A new argument over US human-trafficking law has revived a decades-old controversy about “cults”, brainwashing and free will. Courts have repeatedly found classic cult brainwashing theories lacking general scientific acceptance; scholars increasingly avoid “cult” as a neutral label. That does not make coercion or abuse imaginary, but it does make the language used to describe unconventional beliefs unusually important.
The idea is familiar enough to have become part of popular culture.
Someone joins an unusual religion, spiritual movement, political organisation or self-improvement group. Their beliefs change. Their behaviour changes. Friends or relatives struggle to understand why. The explanation arrives quickly: they have been brainwashed by a cult.
There is a serious scientific problem with that explanation.
The classic theory that a “cult” can employ a distinctive set of psychological techniques capable of substantially overriding an otherwise competent adult’s free will has never achieved general acceptance across the relevant scientific fields. Attempts to present versions of that theory as scientific evidence have been rejected by US courts; the American Psychological Association declined to endorse a major report advancing such claims after finding that it lacked the scientific rigour required for APA approval.
At the same time, people can plainly be manipulated, threatened, exploited, isolated, deceived and abused. Psychological pressure exists. Financial dependency exists. Domestic coercive control exists. Religious organisations can commit abuse, just as families, employers, political organisations, businesses and established institutions can.
Those observations do not require a theory of brainwashing.
The distinction has returned to attention following an August 7 article in religious-liberty publication Bitter Winter. Sociologist Massimo Introvigne argues that expanding interpretations of American forced-labour legislation risk allowing controversial theories of psychological coercion to re-enter the legal system through human-trafficking prosecutions.
His argument raises a broader question with consequences far beyond one American statute: when society calls something a “cult” and explains its members’ beliefs through “brainwashing”, what exactly is being claimed?
Is cult brainwashing scientifically accepted?
In the strong form familiar from films, newspapers and anti-cult literature, no.
That does not mean every academic agrees on every aspect of social influence. They do not. Thought reform, persuasion, conformity, manipulation, coercion, charismatic leadership and group dynamics are all legitimate subjects of research.
The controversial leap comes when those phenomena are assembled into a special explanatory mechanism said to overcome a person’s capacity to choose without the ordinary forms of coercion that would normally explain compelled behaviour.
The dispute became particularly important during the American “cult wars” of the 1970s and 1980s.
Psychologist Margaret Singer became one of the best-known proponents of applying coercive-persuasion theories to new religious movements. The American Psychological Association commissioned a task force, chaired by Singer, to examine deceptive and indirect methods of persuasion and control.
The resulting report did not receive APA endorsement.
The APA’s Board of Social and Ethical Responsibility for Psychology concluded that the report lacked the scientific rigour and balanced critical approach required for the association’s approval. One external reviewer was particularly critical of “brainwashing” as an explanatory concept and argued that claims in the report were inadequately supported by evidence. The board ultimately said it did not have sufficient information to take a position on the wider issue.
That last point matters. It would be inaccurate to say that the APA issued a universal declaration that every concept ever described as coercive persuasion was pseudoscience.
What it did do was reject a prominent attempt to establish the cult-brainwashing framework under its scientific authority.
The distinction is less dramatic than saying “the APA proved brainwashing does not exist”, but considerably more accurate.
A federal court confronted the question directly
The scientific status of the theory was examined in considerable detail in the 1990 federal case United States v Fishman.
The defendant wanted Singer and sociologist Richard Ofshe to testify about alleged thought reform associated with Scientology.
The court examined evidence from supporters and critics of the theory, as well as the positions taken by professional organisations. It concluded that Singer and Ofshe’s application of coercive-persuasion theory to religious groups had not achieved general acceptance within the relevant scientific community.
The judgment is unusually useful because it did not pretend that social influence was nonexistent.
It explicitly recognised a continuum of influence. Military organisations, fraternities, self-help organisations, criminal gangs and religious communities can all influence their members. People obviously behave differently under intense social pressure than they would in isolation.
The problem was proving the stronger proposition that particular non-physical persuasion techniques could be scientifically identified as having deprived someone of free will.
The court found no scientific consensus either that such deprivation occurred in the manner claimed or on how it could reliably be measured. It therefore excluded the proposed thought-reform testimony.
An earlier federal appeal, Kropinski v World Plan Executive Council, had similarly found insufficient evidence that Singer’s theory of thought reform without physical threats or coercion enjoyed significant support in the scientific community. The Fishman court cited that decision while reaching its own conclusion.
This history explains why describing classic cult brainwashing theory as scientifically discredited is broadly defensible.
Describing every form of psychological coercion as pseudoscience would not be.
The word ‘cult’ has its own scientific problem
There is another difficulty hiding inside the phrase “cult brainwashing”: defining the cult.
In ordinary speech, “cult” sounds like an objective category. In practice, its boundaries can be remarkably elastic.
Modern scholars of religion frequently prefer terms such as “new religious movement”, partly because “cult” acquired strongly negative popular connotations.
A 2025 Cambridge University Press study of abuse in new religious movements traces how “cult” moved from older sociological classifications into a popular label for controversial or supposedly illegitimate religion. The author notes that academics largely approached the growth of new religious movements as a phenomenon to study while wider public discourse increasingly framed some of the same movements as threatening.
A separate 2025 Cambridge volume on cults and persuasive leadership describes the definition of a cult as subjective and often pejorative. Its discussion also stresses that affiliation cannot simply be reduced to a single personality defect or mechanical process; relationships between leaders, followers, group dynamics and wider social conditions all matter.
This does not make “cult” an unusable word.
It does make it a dangerous word to treat as though it were a diagnosis.
A group can be tiny, eccentric, authoritarian, communal, intensely religious or centred on an unusual leader without those characteristics automatically demonstrating criminality or psychological incapacity among its members.
Conversely, an old, respected or socially integrated institution can contain abusive structures. Recent academic work on abuse in religious movements explicitly warns against assuming that social integration prevents abuse.
The relevant questions therefore concern conduct: what happened; who did it; whether someone was threatened, deceived, assaulted or exploited; whether their labour was compelled; whether money was taken improperly; whether people could realistically leave; and what evidence supports those conclusions.
The label attached to the organisation cannot answer those questions.
‘Cult’ can become shorthand for ‘a group we consider unacceptable’
This is where the issue extends beyond obscure academic terminology.
In popular discourse, “cult” can function less as a description than as a verdict.
Religious-studies scholarship has repeatedly noted the pejorative character of the term. Researchers studying new religions have often avoided it for precisely that reason. Academic discussions have traced a shift from older technical meanings towards a popular-negative meaning associated with deviance, danger and illegitimacy.
The danger becomes clearer when the label is combined with brainwashing.
Suppose a person joins an unconventional spiritual movement and genuinely adopts beliefs their family considers absurd.
If the starting assumption is that no rational person could sincerely hold those beliefs, the existence of the belief itself can become evidence of manipulation.
The reasoning risks becoming circular.
Why does the person believe something strange? Because they were brainwashed.
How do we know they were brainwashed? Because they believe something strange.
That approach leaves very little room for genuine human eccentricity.
People voluntarily adopt demanding religions. They join monasteries. They give away possessions. They fast. They remain celibate. They undertake missionary work. They accept elaborate cosmologies. They devote enormous amounts of time to political causes. They join intentional communities. They make career choices that relatives consider ridiculous.
The fact that a commitment looks irrational from outside cannot establish that the person making it has lost the ability to choose.
Abuse remains abuse
None of this requires romanticising unconventional groups.
New religious movements can contain abuse. So can mainstream churches, corporations, families, schools, political movements and therapeutic organisations.
A useful scientific approach asks about observable conduct rather than relying on the supposed mystical power of a category.
Researchers studying potentially abusive religious environments examine identifiable factors including isolation, concentrated authority, blurred boundaries between leadership and private life, punishment, threats, barriers to leaving and unusually high exit costs.
These are investigable.
A leader threatening to publish intimate information unless somebody works is an observable allegation.
Confiscating someone’s passport is observable.
Withholding wages is observable.
Threatening immigration consequences is observable.
Physical restraint is observable.
Fraud is investigable.
Sexual assault is investigable.
Saying that a charismatic leader somehow captured someone’s mind is a much less precise proposition.
That difference matters both scientifically and legally.
Why OneTaste has become part of the argument
Introvigne’s Bitter Winter article focuses heavily on the prosecution of OneTaste founder Nicole Daedone and former head of sales Rachel Cherwitz.
Both were convicted in June 2025 of conspiracy to commit forced labour. In March 2026, Daedone was sentenced to nine years in federal prison and Cherwitz to 78 months. The court also imposed a $12 million forfeiture judgment against Daedone and awarded more than $887,000 in restitution to seven victims.
Bitter Winter presents the case as evidence of forced-labour law moving towards punishment based on spiritual and communal fears and describes the prosecution as a return of brainwashing reasoning.
That characterisation should be separated from the established facts of the prosecution.
According to the US Department of Justice, prosecutors alleged a substantially broader pattern involving economic, sexual, emotional, financial and psychological abuse, together with surveillance, indoctrination and intimidation. Prosecutors said members were subjected to uncompensated labour and, in some cases, sexual conduct.
A jury convicted both defendants.
That makes OneTaste an awkward case to use as a simple example of authorities prosecuting people merely because their spirituality was unconventional.
There remains a legitimate legal question about where persuasion ends and legally actionable coercion begins. The factual record described by prosecutors, however, extends considerably beyond unusual doctrines or fear of spiritual consequences.
An independent assessment needs to preserve both facts.
The Supreme Court warned about psychological coercion decades ago
The legal problem identified by Bitter Winter has a genuine historical foundation.
In United States v Kozminski in 1988, the US Supreme Court considered how broadly federal involuntary-servitude law could define coercion.
The government had proposed an interpretation capable of reaching psychological coercion whenever a victim was left with no tolerable alternative to working.
The Supreme Court rejected that broad interpretation of the statutes then before it. The majority warned that it could criminalise an enormous range of ordinary conduct intended to persuade reluctant people to work. One example discussed before the court involved a parent threatening to withdraw affection from an adult child who refused to work in a family business.
Under the law considered in Kozminski, the court limited involuntary servitude principally to physical restraint or injury, threats of it, or coercion through law or legal process.
Congress subsequently expanded federal forced-labour law.
The Trafficking Victims Protection Act of 2000 created 18 USC §1589, which included threats of “serious harm” as a means by which forced labour could be obtained.
The now-familiar statutory definition expressly stating that serious harm may be physical or nonphysical, including psychological, financial or reputational harm, was added through the 2008 reauthorisation. It requires harm sufficiently serious, in the circumstances, to compel a reasonable person of the same background and circumstances to perform or continue performing labour or services to avoid it.
That chronology is worth clarifying because the Bitter Winter article compresses the development into the original 2000 legislation.
Why the forced-labour definition is difficult
There was a reason Congress moved beyond physical chains.
Modern forced labour does not always require somebody to be locked in a room.
Threatening a migrant worker with deportation can compel labour without physical violence. Deliberately creating overwhelming debt, threatening legal consequences or exploiting a person’s particular vulnerability may also produce genuine compulsion.
Federal law therefore looks beyond physical restraint.
The difficulty is drawing the outer boundary.
A threat of deportation made against a vulnerable migrant worker and a prediction that somebody will suffer spiritual consequences if they abandon a religious vocation may both produce fear.
They are not necessarily equivalent acts.
Religions routinely attach consequences to behaviour.
Christianity has concepts of sin, salvation and damnation. Other religions contain karma, ritual obligations, divine judgement, impurity, reincarnation, spiritual advancement or consequences extending beyond death.
Believers may take those claims extremely seriously.
A legal rule that automatically treats sincerely held supernatural fears as externally imposed psychological harm could therefore create obvious religious-freedom problems.
The scientific weakness of simplistic brainwashing theory makes that problem more acute. If unusual belief itself is treated as proof that the believer’s judgement has been captured, the distinction between protecting somebody’s freedom and overruling their freedom becomes difficult to maintain.
What Bitter Winter wants Congress to change
Introvigne proposes two changes.
The first would create a limiting principle protecting spiritual teaching, religious counselling and communal discipline from being characterised as forced labour unless they were used with the specific purpose of unlawfully extracting labour.
The second would impose reliability requirements on federal training material involving coercive-persuasion theories that courts or scientific bodies have rejected.
These should be understood as Introvigne’s proposed amendments.
They do not appear in the introduced text of H.R. 1144, the Frederick Douglass Trafficking Victims Prevention and Protection Reauthorization Act of 2025. Searches of the introduced bill text show no provisions referring to religion, §1589 or “serious harm”. The bill instead contains measures concerning prevention grants, survivor employment and education, international anti-trafficking programmes, reporting and funding authorisations.
As of July 30, 2026, the US Committee for Refugees and Immigrants was still urging Congress to pass H.R. 1144 and reported that its route through the House and Senate remained uncertain.
So, is brainwashing pseudoscience?
The most defensible answer requires specifying what “brainwashing” means.
If it means that human beings can be influenced, manipulated, pressured, deceived or psychologically abused, there is nothing scientifically extraordinary about the proposition.
If it means that certain disfavoured groups possess a special collection of psychological methods that can reliably override an adult’s free will and manufacture beliefs independently of ordinary coercion, the evidence is much weaker. Prominent versions of that theory failed to secure professional endorsement and have failed legal tests of general scientific acceptance.
Calling the entire field settled would go too far. There are researchers who continue to use concepts such as coercive persuasion and coercive control, and contemporary clinical literature still debates how harmful or controlling groups should be understood.
What has not emerged is a reliable scientific test by which an investigator can examine an unconventional believer and determine that their beliefs were mechanically implanted by a “cult”.
That popular idea has considerably more cultural power than scientific precision.
The danger of treating unconventional belief as pathology
This is ultimately why the argument matters.
Freedom of belief becomes fairly easy to defend when the beliefs involved are familiar.
The harder test comes when somebody believes something most people find bizarre.
Religious freedom has little meaning if it protects conventional Christianity, Judaism, Islam or secular humanism but becomes conditional once a movement is small, new, intensely committed or socially unpopular.
The same principle reaches beyond religion.
Political movements, philosophical communities, intentional communities and alternative lifestyles can all generate strong social commitments. People sometimes remain within them despite costs that outsiders consider unreasonable.
Law and journalism should still investigate abuse rigorously.
The evidence should establish the abuse.
The strangeness of the belief cannot do that work by itself.
“Cult” is therefore best treated as a warning that further questions may be necessary, rather than an answer to those questions. Academic literature increasingly recognises its subjectivity; the history of brainwashing theory shows why claims about mind control require particularly careful evidence.
There are organisations that exploit people.
There are leaders who abuse followers.
There are people subjected to threats, intimidation and manipulation.
There are also people who freely believe exceptionally strange things.
A fact-first approach needs to remain capable of telling those situations apart.