The Playbook of Control: 10 Tactics Used by High-Control Religious Systems
And why naming them can help you reclaim your story
This is a VERY long post. Consider saving it to come back later.
One of the deepest harms of high-control religious systems is that the language, messaging, and practices remove you from yourself and limit your thinking, leaving you unable to describe the nightmare you’re waking up from.
Naming the tactics is how the fog begins to lift.
This post offers language. Not as labels to carry, but as light to see what’s been hidden for too long.
If you’ve ever felt broken, defective, or alone know that the system was built to keep you unsteady.
Here is what I want to offer:
You are not alone.
Healing is possible.
A Note Before You Begin
This is a long and detailed post that names specific tactics of high-control systems.
Your safety and consent are what matter most.
You are in charge of your pace. Pause, save this for later, or step away at any time.
Take only what you need. Skim the headings and read only what feels relevant.
Trust your body. If you feel yourself getting activated, listen. Feel your feet on the floor. Look around the room. Breathe.
You are not broken. You are healing.
The Tactics of Control
The perpetrators in these systems live somewhere on a spectrum between knowingly harming you and mindlessly being formed exactly how the system wants them to be.
These sorts of patterns are seen across authoritarian systems — religious, political, relational, and familial.
When you start to see the blueprint, you begin to realize it wasn’t your failure.
You were being conditioned.
1. Information Control & Hermeneutical Injustice
In a high-control environments, the leadership positions itself as the gatekeeper of truth.
By systematically devaluing all outside information, the group engineers a state of dependence on them and prevents you from acquiring the language to name your own experiences.
Information control can look like:
Actively demonizing psychology and therapy as “secular” or “worldly,” thereby cutting you off from the very tools that could help you identify manipulation, trauma, and coping skills.
Insisting that inspiration comes only from god to the leaders, meaning any external book, podcast, or teacher is a potential source of “deception.”
Discrediting former attendees by labeling them as “offended,” “bitter,” or “divisive,” ensuring their testimony is invalidated and silenced before it can ever be heard.
Reducing outsiders to spiritual projects (”crops to be harvested”) or threats (”unequally yoked”), which strips them of their shared humanity and isolates you from genuine, non-transactional relationships.
The impact of this tactic is intellectual suffocation known as hermeneutical injustice.
This is what happens when you are denied the interpretive tools of your experience.
The concepts, words, frameworks are hidden, leaving you to suffer in silence.
When your pain has no name, you are led to believe it isn’t real or that you are the cause of it.
This prevents you from recognizing our shared humanity in your struggle, often leading to deep feelings of isolation and loneliness.
Your world shrinks until curiosity feels like betrayal, and the system becomes your only mirror.
You forget that wisdom can be found in many places, and the open air of intellectual freedom begins to feel like a terrifying void.
2. Loaded Language & Thought-Stoppers
High-control groups rely on specialized vocabulary of religious jargon and spiritual clichés designed to shut down critical thinking before it can form.
These phrases flatten complex human experiences into pre-approved, pacified, unquestionable categories, making curiosity feel dangerous.
Loaded language can look like:
“don’t lean on your own understanding” or “god’s ways aren’t our ways” to dismiss legitimate questions about suffering, injustice, politics, or logical incongruences in doctrine or religious texts.
Employing slogans like “god places people into leadership” to shield pastors from accountability and frame any challenge to their authority as an attack on god, the church, or doctrines.
Responding to emotional pain with directives to “let go and let god” or to “take every thought captive,” which spiritually bypasses the need for genuine emotional processing.
Labeling critical thinking as “pride” or a “rebellious spirit,” thereby equating intellectual honesty with “sin.”
The impact of this tactic is a conditioned intellectual paralysis.
The thought-stopping cliché acts as an internal kill switch for curiosity.
This is the antithesis of mindfulness—a core component of self-compassion (see Neff’s work below)—which asks us to observe our thoughts and feelings without judgment.
Instead, loaded language teaches you to instantly judge and suppress any thought or feeling that deviates from the group’s script.
Language ceases to be a tool for exploration and becomes a cage for your mind, keeping you from the nuance, complexity, and contradiction where authentic truth often resides.
3. Fear and Shame
Fear and shame are the twin engines of high-control environments, creating invisible psychological electrical fences that enforce compliance.
These systems weaponize the fundamental human nervous-system need for safety and belonging, teaching you that both safety and belonging are conditional upon your compliance and assimilation.
Fear and Shame can look like:
Employing graphic theological language, such as the ideology of total depravity or Jonathan Edwards’s imagery of god holding you like a “loathsome insect” over a burning flame, designed to evoke deep-seated shame and spiritual anguish.
Constant threats of relational disconnection, where you are warned that leaving the group will mean losing closeness with family, friends, and the social structure.
This exploits what Brené Brown identifies as the core of shame: the fear of being unworthy of connection.
Sharing “negative testimonies” about those who have “backslidden” or walked away, painting a narrative of misery for anyone who dares to choose a different path.
Publicly punishing confessions or moments of vulnerability, transforming the desire for healing into an opportunity for control and public humiliation.
The impact of this tactic is chronic nervous system activation.
The constant spiritual and relational threats keep your body locked in a trauma response—a state of fight, flight, or freeze.
As Laura E. Anderson explains in When Religion Hurts You, you are living in a state of hypervigilance where your rational mind is offline.
This is the direct opposite of what is required for self-compassion.
You cannot practice “self-kindness” (Neff) when you are being taught you are inherently flawed and worthy of punishment.
This ideology is a direct assault on humanity, replacing your inherent dignity with a pervasive sense of worthlessness.
4. Doctrine Over Dignity
This occurs when a theological system is treated as more sacred than the human beings it claims to serve.
In this moral inversion, doctrinal “purity” and systemic “rightness” are prioritized above compassion, justice, and individual well-being, framing human suffering as acceptable and guaranteed in order to discover a “deeper truth.”
This can look like:
Dismissing a person’s profound marital pain by citing a rigid doctrinal stance on divorce, placing a rule above a person’s safety and sanity.
Refusing to re-examine harmful theological frameworks. Even when presented with evidence of the deep psychological damage they caused, because the doctrine itself is considered untouchable.
Reframing legitimate trauma as spiritual immaturity, a lack of faith, or a necessary part of one’s “sanctification,” which effectively blames the victim for their own suffering.
This can manifest is any sort of demographic of people, whether a woman being told she can’t hold a particular role in the church, a queer person not allowed in the stage band, or whatever sort of falsely contrived ideology that tries to suggest folks are sinful and incompatible with “biblical truth.” This reduction of their entire personhood down to a singular theological problem to be condemned or “fixed” is bigotry.
The impact of this tactic is the systematic violation of your inherent dignity.
Dignity is the non-negotiable, inherent worth of every person. No qualifiers.
By placing doctrine over people, the system teaches you to mistrust your own empathy and sense of justice.
It severs you from the “common humanity” component of self-compassion (Neff), because your pain is not seen as a valid, shared human experience but as an individual spiritual failure.
It is a corrosive form of gaslighting that conditions you to believe that the system’s integrity matters more than your own.
5. Confession as Surveillance
In healthy contexts, confession is a practice of unburdening that can lead to healing and restoration.
In high-control systems, this sacred act is repurposed into a mechanism for surveillance and control.
Your vulnerability is no longer met with grace, but is instead mined for data to monitor, measure, and manage you.
This can look like:
Public confession sessions where intimate struggles are exposed to the judgment of the entire group, creating shame rather than resolving it.
So-called “accountability partners” who function as extensions of leadership, tasked with monitoring your behavior, phone usage, finances, or adherence to purity codes.
Leaders who weaponize privately shared information, bringing up past sins or struggles as leverage to enforce compliance or reassert their authority.
A culture where privacy is seen as suspicious, and you are encouraged to “live in the light” by relinquishing all personal boundaries for the sake of group “purity.”
The impact of this tactic is the complete erosion of psychological safety and the conditioning of a fawn response.
As described in When Religion Hurts You, fawning is a trauma response where you learn to survive by “pleasing, appeasing, and submitting.”
You are trained to perform an acceptable, “holy” version of yourself to avoid punishment or ostracism. This makes self-compassion impossible.
You cannot be mindful of your true inner state when you are constantly curating it for an external audience, nor can you practice self-kindness (Neff) toward the parts of you that you’ve been taught must remain hidden.
The very act of being known becomes dangerous, forcing you to sacrifice authenticity for the illusion of safety
BREATHE. PAUSE. REST.
You are magnificent. Never forget you are magnificent.
6. Unquestionable Authority
This tactic concentrates all spiritual and moral authority into a single person or (a charismatic leader), a “highest governing body” (a board), or a single interpretation of a text, effectively placing them beyond reproach.
Critical thinking is relabeled as rebellion, and dissent is framed as an attack, creating a system where blind obedience is considered the highest virtue.
This can look like:
A “solo heroic leader” who claims a direct and exclusive line to god, making their personal vision non-negotiable and bypassing any need for community input or accountability.
Using phrases like “god places people in leadership” to create a shield around leaders, making any question of their character or decisions an act of defiance against god.
Equating a specific, rigid interpretation of scripture with the “word of god” itself, such that to question the interpretation is to be accused of denying the sacred texts and thus, defying god.
A culture of fear around the “chain of command,” where voicing a concern to anyone, including your immediate superior, is seen as gossip or division.
The impact of this tactic is the systematic outsourcing of your personal agency.
Some theological systems attempt “erase any meaningful sense of agency” by teaching you to fundamentally distrust your own mind, intuition, and internal moral compass.
You learn to subordinate your discernment to an external authority, creating a state of perpetual dependency.
Over time, you stop flexing your own critical thinking muscles and can forget you ever had them.
This short-circuits your ability to mature into an integrated adult, keeping you in a state of stunted spirituality where your worth is tied to your compliance.
7. Imposed Identity & The Erasure of Self
The ultimate goal of a high-control system is not merely to control your behavior, but to dismantle your authentic self and replace it with a new, system-approved identity.
Your unique personality, desires, and dreams are seen as threats to group cohesion and are systematically suppressed until the “you” that remains is a reflection of the system itself.
This can look like:
Being told that your “old self”—including pre-existing hobbies, ambitions, and personality traits—is part of your “sinful nature” that must be “put to death.”
Leaders assigning you a “life purpose” or “calling” that serves the institution, which you are not permitted to question or refuse.
An intense “love bombing” phase for new members, designed to rapidly assimilate them into the group’s identity before their own critical thought and personal attachments can interfere.
A subtle but constant discouragement of any trait that doesn’t fit the group’s narrow mold—labeling artistic expression as “frivolous,” intellectual curiosity as “pride,” or emotional sensitivity as “weakness.”
The impact of this tactic is the loss of connection to your authentic self.
It creates a painful and disorienting split between the persona you must perform to survive and the quiet, embodied knowing of who you really are.
This makes self-compassion feel impossible; you cannot offer self-kindness to a self you’ve been taught to hate or a persona you know is not real.
It is the ultimate violation of a person’s dignity, as the system attempts to overwrite your unique, personhood with a standardized template.
For many, the scariest part of leaving is not just losing a community, but facing the terrifying void of not knowing who you are without the imposed identity.
Healing begins with the slow, courageous work of meeting yourself again, or perhaps for the very first time.
8. Spiritual Bypassing
Spiritual bypassing is the practice of using spiritual beliefs, language, and platitudes to sidestep or prematurely “resolve” complex human emotions and psychological needs.
Legitimate feelings like grief, anger, and doubt are relabeled as spiritual deficiencies that must be transcended through faith rather than processed through experience.
This can look like:
Instructing someone to “give their sadness to god” or “choose joy” in the face of profound loss or depression, effectively shaming them for the natural and necessary process of grieving.
Demanding immediate forgiveness for betrayal, abuse ,or injustice without acknowledging the harm, which short-circuits righteous anger and prevents the establishment of safe boundaries.
Dismissing clinical anxiety or depression as a “spiritual attack” or a “lack of faith,” thereby discouraging professional help and promoting a Gnostic-like dualism that treats the body and its signals as untrustworthy.
Responding to valid questions or doubts with the directive to simply “pray more” or “have more faith,” shutting down intellectual and emotional exploration.
The impact of this tactic is a profound and dangerous disconnection from your own humanity.
This effectively “disciples us into disembodiment” (K.J. Ramsey).
It is in opposition to mindfulness—a core component of self-compassion—which requires us to observe our feelings without judgment. Mindfulness with our emotions allows us to feel what we feel in they way we need to feel them.
Instead, spiritual bypassing teaches you to immediately judge, suppress, and spiritually override your body’s most essential signals.
This makes true healing impossible, as it denies a fundamental truth: wholeness isn’t found by escaping our humanity, but by integrating it.
Spiritual bypassing leaves trauma unprocessed and your nervous system in a state of dysregulation, all under the guise of holiness.
9. Opacity and Exploitation
In these systems, accountability is replaced by unquestioning loyalty. A culture of secrecy is cultivated around finances, governance, and decision-making, while members are simultaneously pressured into sacrificial giving of their time, talent, and treasure.
Questions about these practices are framed not as responsible stewardship, but as spiritual weakness.
This can look like:
High-pressure tithing messages (think: prosperity gospel) that explicitly link your financial generosity to your level of faith or potential for god’s blessing.
A celebrated “culture of burnout” where staff and volunteers are overworked and under-supported, with exhaustion being praised as a sign of spiritual devotion. Work 40 hours a week, serve 40 hours a week.
Major directional and financial decisions being made by an unaccountable board or leader behind closed doors, often justified by a simple “god told me/us.”
Punishing or shaming those who ask for financial transparency, labeling their legitimate questions as evidence of a “critical spirit” or a lack of trust in leadership.
The impact of this tactic is the normalization of exploitation and the creation of moral injury.
It reframes burnout as holiness and treats people as consumable resources for the institution.
This is a profound violation of a person’s dignity, as it denies their inherent worth and treats them as a means to an end.
It also makes self-compassion a spiritual crime.
You cannot practice self-kindness by setting healthy boundaries around your time or money when the system glorifies boundary-less sacrifice.
This dynamic can cause deep moral injury and institutional betrayal, as the very organization that claims to care for you becomes a source of harm, leaving your nervous system frayed and your sense of justice shattered.
10. Double Binds and Gaslighting
High-control systems thrive on the psychological trap of the double bind—the “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” scenario.
Gaslighting is the tool used to enforce this trap; it’s a form of psychological manipulation designed to make you doubt your own memory, perception, and sanity, leading you to believe that you are the problem, not the contradictory system.
This can look like:
Proclaiming, “We welcome questions,” but when you ask one that challenges the status quo, you are punished or labeled as having a “rebellious spirit.”
Insisting, “We’re a family here,” but the moment you express an uncomfortable truth or a dissenting opinion, that “family” connection is severed, and you are treated like a threat.
Preaching, “You are free in Christ,” while simultaneously micromanaging every aspect of your life—from your relationships and finances to your entertainment choices.
No matter what you do, you are positioned to fail. If you are quiet, you lack passion. If you are passionate, you are being emotional and insubordinate.
The impact of this tactic is the systematic erosion of your reality, forcing a violent split between your mind and your body.
Gaslighting is profoundly damaging because it teaches you to betray your own physical, intuitive knowing.
As Hillary L. McBride argues in The Wisdom of Your Body, our mental well-being and bodily condition are an “indivisible whole.”
Gaslighting is a direct assault on this unity.
The anxiety that twists your stomach before a service, the tension headaches that follow a difficult conversation with a leader, the shallow breathing that occurs when you feel judged, these are all valid signals from your nervous system.
In a gaslit environment, you are taught to override your body and spiritually suppress your feelings. Your body becomes a landscape of unexplained symptoms—chronic pain, fatigue, digestive issues—screaming what your mind has been trained to silence.
The ultimate goal is to sever the trust in your own embodied knowing that you become dependent on the abusive system to interpret your reality for you.
Exhaustion begins to feel like devotion, and the slow betrayal of your own body feels like faith.
A Gentle Embodiment Practice
If your body feels stirred right now, that makes sense.
If it feels safe, take ninety seconds for this grounding practice:
Let your eyes move slowly around the room. Name three neutral objects you see.
Notice the surface beneath you. Feel how it supports you completely.
If you can, hold something cool, a mug, a metal object, a stone, and notice its temperature.
Place one hand over your chest, one over your stomach. Whisper softly: “I’m here. I’m allowed to take my time.”
Ask your body: Continue, pause, or stop? Trust the first answer you feel.
Reclaiming Agency After Control
Name the pattern, not your failure. This is not a story of personal brokenness; it’s a story of survival.
Rebuild curiosity in small, safe steps. Read something new. Listen to a voice outside the circle. Let yourself wonder again.
Reconnect carefully. One honest conversation, one coffee, one shared laugh. Relationship, not replacement.
Practice consent with your own attention. You decide what’s too much, what’s enough, and when to stop.
Seek trauma-informed support if you want it. There is no shame in needing witnesses who understand.
You are not too sensitive.
You adapted to survive a system designed to override your instincts.
That adaptability is intelligence.
Your capacity to notice, question, and care for yourself now, that is agency, a core component of dignity.
You get to be in charge of your next.
At your pace. On your terms. In your language.
Resources for Continued Learning
This journey is not meant to be walked alone. The authors and thinkers below have been life-altering guides for me and so many others.
If you’re looking for your next step, this is a good place to start.
When Religion Hurts You: Healing from Religious Trauma and the Impact of High-Control Religion by Laura E. Anderson.
I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn’t): Making the Journey from “What Will People Think?” to “I Am Enough” by Brené Brown, PhD.
The Wisdom of Your Body: Finding Healing, Wholeness, and Connection Through Embodied Living by Hillary L. McBride, PhD.
Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself by Kristin Neff, PhD.
This Too Shall Last: Finding Grace When Suffering Lingers by K.J. Ramsey.
Leaving the Fold: A Guide for Former Fundamentalists and Others Leaving Their Religion by Marlene Winell, PhD.
If this met you in a tender place, I’m honored.
If it wasn’t the right time, I’m honored by your choice to pause.
Your experience is real. Your perception is trustworthy.
Your dignity matters — always.
This is a brilliant summary of the topic. I've certainly experienced them all. I used Marlene Winell's work when I first deconstucted, and found it useful. I've not read all the others but I'll add them to my list. Thanks again for such a thoughtful and challenging read.