Silkworth, Buchman & Bill

Alcoholics Anonymous resulted from a combination of two historical trajectories.


One of these had to do with certain people at a certain time wrestling with the puzzle of a particular type of alcoholic. The best doctors, notably William Silkworth and Carl Jung had found their methods utterly ineffective for a certain type of drinker. Silkworth and Jung effectively said to Bill Wilson and Rowland Hazard – we’ve tried everything we know, and we can’t help you. Bill and Rowland were the type of alcoholic who drank even when they didn’t want to, even when they knew a great deal of accurate knowledge about their drinking experience.

To varying degrees, and with varying experiences, they would be overcome by what Silkworth called a physical ‘allergy’ to alcohol, which triggered a phenomenon of craving. One drink could usually trigger this. They also had a mental obsession, or a kind of blank spot, which meant all previous experience of suffering and humiliation and damage went out the window. The alcoholic ‘thinking’ that precedes, justifies, rationalizes or just throws in the towel just before the first drink.

Though such drinkers were often perfectly normal in other respects, being good men, successful businessmen, skilled physicians, etc., will power seemed to be non-operative with regard to alcohol. Their only hope, according to Silkworth and Jung, was what some called ‘vital spiritual experiences’, which had seen some of these types recover. But such miracles were rare and little understood. Alcoholics like Bill and Rowland were sent off looking for such a solution…


The second historical trajectory had to do with other people at another time seeking to get back to the basics of religion – in this case, Christianity. This trajectory in a sense goes all the way back to the dawn of humanity and all religious ideas, but in more practical terms it starts with the experience of Frank Buchman.

Buchman was a Lutheran minister who had started up a hospice for young men, and had grown so upset at the board over financial disagreements that he resigned. At the 1908 Keswick convention in England, a message preached by Jesse Penn-Lewis brought him face to face with his self-focused, self-justifying anger. He came to see that they had probably wronged him, but the main point for him was that he had gotten “so mixed in the wrong that I was the seventh wrong man.”

This foundational pivot, a perfect example of taking the log out of your own eye (Matthew 7:5), set Frank on a trajectory of founding the First Century Christian Fellowship, a movement seeing to embody a return to the original teachings of Christ, simple and practical. This fellowship, later known as the Oxford Group, had a particular affection for the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord’s Prayer, and the epistle of James. They were convinced that faith without works was useless, and that one must clear their blockages from God, be of service to others practically, and seek constant daily direction from God through prayer and meditation.

This movement, seeking to build Christianity down to it’s most vital elements, grew in effectiveness and size. Though they had no formal articulation of their process, through their four absolutes (Honesty, Unselfishness, Purity & Love), they saw the lives of many people with various struggles turned around, including many alcoholics. One in particular went by the name of Ebby Thatcher.


These two trajectories were made for one another, and would merge in the person of Bill Wilson.

Bill Wilson was one of those rare types of drinkers for whom there seemed no solution, save the rare spiritual kind. He was a friend of Ebby Thatcher, who had been dramatically sobered up through the Oxford Group. The story of Ebby sharing his experience with Bill is featured in chapter 1 of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, called ‘Bill’s Story’. At the time of the writing of the book, according to one of the foundational stories called ‘He Sold Himself Short’, the Oxford group had a sub-group of Alcoholics who seem to have tailored the Oxford process into a sequence of 6 steps, as used by Dr. Bob (the co-founder of A.A.):

1, Complete deflation.
2. Dependence and guidance from a Higher Power.
3. Moral inventory.
4. Confession.
5. Restitution.
6. Continued work with other alcoholics.

Bill and nearly a hundred other alcoholics adopted the Oxford process and formulated the 12 steps of AA as they are known now.

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

When you look at the steps, especially as they are explained in the AA Big Book, you can see that the first two steps encapsulate the wisdom of Dr Silkworth concerning the unique powerlessness and insanity of the alcoholic concerning alcohol. The rest of the programme seems clearly dependent on the process of the Oxford Group.

So there you have it.

Silkworth & Jung found that the alcoholic problem needed a spiritual solution
Frank/OG spread a spiritual solution that relieved all kinds of problems.
Bill and the early AA’s said yes – thank you.

bad remorse?

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, gives incredibly simple, practical and transformative guidance for daily rhythms of prayer and meditation. Instructions are given for how to pray and meditate a) to start the day (“Upon awakening…”), b) during the day (“As we go through the day…), and c) as you finish the day (“When we retire at night…”). It’s brilliant stuff.

The advice on how to finish the day suggests we “constructively review” the day. This is very similar to the Examen prayer familiar to some Christians. It is, however, less generally focused on ‘where did I sense God’s grace today’ and more specifically inquisitive – asking us to look for when we may have been “resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid” at any point. It leads us to bring this to God and ask for what we might do to correct this.

It then has some great advice about making sure this review is constructive rather than self-destructive. It says: “But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection…” Why not, you may ask? The advice continues and answers, “…for that would diminish our usefulness to others.” (p. 86)

When I’m obsessed about myself, even my own failures, I’m really no use to anyone.

The word ‘remorse’ jumps out at me. Isn’t ‘remorse’ a good thing for those who have done something wrong? What is meant by this guidance about avoiding ‘remorse’?

Dictionary.com has this helpful discussion of the Latin root for the word ‘remorse’:

In Latin, mordere means “to bite;” thus, remorse is something that “gnaws” at you over and over. In criminal court, judges are always looking for signs that a convicted felon is suffering remorse for his crime; if not, the judge may well lengthen his sentence or deny him parole after serving part of it. Remorse is stronger than mere regret; real remorse is the kind of thing that may last a lifetime.

The wisdom of the AA Big Book’s guidance becomes instantly clear. This kind of ‘remorse’ is far more than admitting, acknowledging and amending for past wrongs. It is a continual ‘biting’ of self that is hopelessly self-focused, self-pitying, self-obsessed, and ultimately self-destructive.

One final reflection on the judge and sentencing metaphor may be helpful.

It’s true that judges consider remorse as they weigh up appropriate sentencing. I think this is true socially as well. If a politician is caught doing something wrong and isn’t ‘remorseful’ enough, they are seen to be arrogant and not appropriately sorry, and likely to do the same thing again. Social discourse is quick to pounce on anyone who is not publicly and severely ashamed of themselves.

There can be an unintended dynamic that results from such understandable social judgmentalism. Wrongdoers know what is coming if their situation is to become known, and they anticipate and internalise the judgment upon themselves. They are quietly killing themselves even as they continue in the wrong. Another thing that can happen is that remorse can be performative. We perform remorse to assure our critics that we are sufficiently horrified at ourselves. But performative remorse is self-protective and not transformative.

The AA Big Book strikes a profound balance. Wrongdoing of any kind is to be weeded out with the utmost vigilance and humility. But such weeding must be ‘constructive’ and transformative. It is not about protecting oneself from public shame, or proving to them (or yourself) how sorry you are and demonstrating the high level of justifiable hate you have for yourself. Obsessing about how bad, stupid, foolish or wrong you were is really of no use to anyone.

What is of use to everyone, including ourselves, is simple, and far less dramatic and sensational. Admitting and seeking to amend your wrongs.

the sneaky allure of selfishness

I’m a prayer guy, and I’m a fan of 12-step spirituality.

So one of the resources I use for prayer is the guidance offered in the AA Big Book for step 11.

It suggests some patterns of meditation and prayer “upon awakening”. Here’s the first bit of advice…

“On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

AA Big Book, page 86

I am in awe of how practical this advice is. If I’m not directed by God, I will eventually (or immediately!) drift into spiritually unhelpful ways of thinking about my day. It mentions three huge categories of bad day-planning: “self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

In my insecurity, I can lapse into the self-pity of imagining how certain situations may not go my way, or dreading the experience today of the effects of having been wronged yesterday.

In my self-protecting fear, I can drift into dishonesty, looking at the day ahead with a distorted lens that lies to myself by exaggerating the good that I think I might do, or minimising the mistakes I may make.

In my grandiosity (itself a product of insecurity), I can wade into the waters of imagining how impressively I might perform in this or that situation.

Later on in these couple of pages of advice, the AA big book has a strong suggestion around making our prayers that are oriented to being useful to others.

We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it doesn’t work. You can easily see why.

AA Big Book, page 87

I don’t think it is theologically wrong to pray for ourselves, of course. But it is not hard to see the wisdom of this advice. Our thinking about the day, and our ways of going about the day itself, are quickly distorted by self-focused motives. Heck, I can find myself drifting into worry, fear or self-protecting resentment even during a time of prayer itself!

The advice here is to always remember our priority of being useful to others. That is damned good advice.