Guru culture is an undeniably central and historically important element of the yogic tradition. In our postmodern yoga world, however, it is a practice that has created fertile ground for grooming and abuse.
Allegations of sexual assault include Bikram Choudhury, Sharath Jois, Swami Satchidinanda, Amrit Desai, and lesser-known teachers across the United States. Each of these exalted teachers has been credibly accused of using their power, respect, resources, and privilege to harm vulnerable people.
How can such a fundamental aspect of yoga, one that is founded on a profound need for trust, care and love, be so routinely abused? Although there are many factors, I believe one of the biggest factors in the United States is that we live in a consumer culture. “Consumer culture is a form of material culture facilitated by the market, which thus created a particular relationship between the consumer and the goods or services he or she uses or consumes.” Essentially, we define ourselves by what we buy. Ingroups and outgroups are dictated less by merit, talent, or tradition, and more by who buys in. Consumer culture is the foundation of a capitalist society, and as such, yoga in the United States is not immune.
In a society where membership is vetted by who is buying, it is not possible to have a healthy and safe guru/disciple relationship. Why? Because money is not value-neutral. It is quite the opposite. Our safety, our health, our ability to live freely, is dictated to some degree by money. Teachers (myself included) need money to keep a roof over our heads, feed our families, and get us to the studio on time. This is a fact of our lives.
However, money is finite and corrosive. It is of this material world. As a product of the world, and as a leading factor in our overall well-being, a purchased practice is inherently spiritually compromised.
It just is.
Therefore, within the context of our lived experience (capitalism and consumerism), the ability to be a true guru is impossible. Once money is a primary factor, we cannot have good, honest, generous gurus.
This is not to say that great and good teachers do not exist, they do. Nor does it mean we don’t strive to be our very best selves, we do. However, our culture makes the conditions necessary for a truly generous and selfless guru, living only for the betterment of others, unreasonable.
So, what does this mean? It means you must never give your most precious gifts: your personal power, autonomy, and control of yourself to another human being, not even one that is really smart, really funny, really nice. No matter how charismatic and charming they are, they are still living in this time, in this space, and they, through no fault of their own, are compromised by capitalism and consumerism.
To say “listen to your inner self” or to shame someone for not paying attention to that warning voice that says, “hmmm, this is sitting uncomfortably with me” does not address the root cause of the problem, which is: the guru does not exist out there somewhere because we do not have the correct conditions to create gurus. You do not need to be patient and wait for them, because they do not exist. Knowing this will save you from great harm. It will arm you with the necessary tools you need to grow and shape your life, to leverage the teachers and teachings to benefit your own spiritual growth while maintaining good, healthy boundaries and expectations.
Again, this is not to vilify our teachers. We need teachers. We need those more skilled and adept than us to help us grow. But at the end of the day, we are all just humans, living gross human lives, muddling through as best we can. No one teacher, as generous as they may seem, is unaffected by their environment.
A consumer culture is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing: you are free to choose. You decide how you want to spend your money and you decide how you want to define yourself. The curse is that money is limiting and corrosive. The autonomy it gives you is finite and fleeting. Once spent, it will always ask for more, it will always leave you wanting. The downside to a consumer culture is that you cannot leave the confines of the consumer culture and, like any other culture, it is limiting.
Knowing its limits is imperative to good decision-making. Understanding that every human teacher you encounter is also living this life will help remind you that they are limited, finite, and flawed. And if they ask you for your autonomy, to have power over you, or to control you, it is not to better you. If your teacher demands you sacrifice your voice, if your teacher doesn’t say to you: “It’s ok for you to say no to me,” if your teacher does not ask for permission, if your teacher demands control over you or absolute adoration from you, it is because those things are incredibly valuable. They are worth a lot.
And no one should ever ask those things of you. The price is too high.
And you are worth infinitely more.
With love,
