Another Werner (Or ElRon) Wanna-be
depro...@mailandnews.com
Landmark Forum, the Sterling Institute of Relationship and Lifespring.
It also is reminiscent of the "human potential" training of the 1970s,
with a few Scientology-like elements and parallels to EST, the
much-criticized groupthink program founded by Werner Erhard...."
(ROTFLMAO....It just can't be THAT good. How is it they are able to
fool so many???
Ellen)
Cult of Personality
Forbes Magazine/October 13, 2003
By Michael Freedman
Keith Raniere's devoted followers say he is one of the smartest and
most ethical people alive. They describe him as a soft-spoken, humble
genius who can diagnose societal ills with remarkable clarity. They say
his teachings as an inspirational executive coach can empower some of
the most successful people in the world to attain ever higher levels of
status and money. Why, his program can even cure ailments like diabetes
and scoliosis.
Some 3,700 people have flocked to Raniere, 43, and Executive Success
Programs, the business he created in 1998. Prompted by a potent
word-of-mouth network, they include Sheila Johnson, cofounder of Black
Entertainment Television; Antonia C. Novello, a former U.S. surgeon
general; Stephen Cooper, acting chief executive of Enron; the Seagram
fortune's Edgar Bronfman Sr. and two of his daughters; and Ana Cristina
Fox, daughter of the Mexican president. Raniere's disciples say his
methods sharpen their focus and give them keener insight into the
motivations of others. "It's like a practical M.B.A.," says one
follower, Emiliano Salinas, son of a former president of Mexico.
Raniere, who has no M.B.A., has shrewdly cashed in on the high-profit
fad of executive coaching, a booming multibillion-dollar market. It
includes established firms and renowned individuals who promise--for a
fee--to help people become better executives, improve productivity and
navigate office politics. Well-known trainers like Marshall Goldsmith,
professor Vijay Govindarajan of Dartmouth and Richard Leider charge
from $25,000 a day to $100,000 for a half dozen sessions spread over 18
months. They teach executives how to change their "negative behaviors,"
to find what drives them and to divine the right goals.
But some people see a darker and more manipulative side to Keith
Raniere. Detractors say he runs a cult-like program aimed at breaking
down his subjects psychologically, separating them from their families
and inducting them into a bizarre world of messianic pretensions,
idiosyncratic language and ritualistic practices. "I think it's a
cult," says Bronfman. Though he once took a course and endorsed the
program, he hasn't talked to his daughters in months and has grown
troubled over the long hours and emotional and financial investment
they have been devoting to Raniere's group. One daughter, Clare, 24,
has lent the program $2 million, at 2.5% interest, the senior Bronfman
says (she denies this).
Raniere says there's nothing in his operation that makes it a cult, and
indeed, many enrollees see Executive Success as a good coaching program
and nothing more. Enron's Stephen Cooper puts himself in this category.
Yet Raniere is an unlikely mentor to the wealthy and well-connected. A
decade ago he ran an alleged pyramid scheme that collapsed after
signing up at least 250,000 customers and bringing in more than $33
million in a year. In January a federal judge ruled in favor of an
ex-girlfriend who was in a bitter legal fight with Raniere, citing "a
jilted fellow's attempt at revenge" and finding that Raniere had
harassed her, disrupted her business and manipulated her into giving up
her 10-year-old son to the boy's father. The woman, Toni F. Natalie,
tells Forbes that she believes Raniere brainwashed her, telling her she
was put on Earth to carry his baby--the baby who would alter the course
of history. Raniere calls this claim "ridiculous and not rational."
These days Raniere prefers to be called "Vanguard" by his followers.
(His business partner, Nancy Salzman, 49, a former nurse and therapist
and the public face of Executive Success, calls herself "Prefect.")
Raniere's long, brown hair and beard make him look a little like Jesus,
and his thoughtful demeanor could let him pass for a philosophy
professor--or maybe a slacker poet. He has no driver's license, relying
on friends for rides and walking up to 12 miles a day. He says he has
no bank account and that he forgoes any salary from the $4
million-a-year coaching program he created: "I consider everything
payment for what I've done." Though he co-owns a small house near
Albany, N.Y. with a female friend, he spends most nights at one or
another of three friends' homes. He claims not to own a bed. "I live,"
he says with a disarmingly warm smile, "a somewhat church-mouse-type
existence."
His teachings are mysterious, filled with self-serving and impenetrable
jargon about ethics and values, and defined by a blind-ambition ethos
akin to that of the driven characters in an Ayn Rand novel. His shtick:
Make your own self-interest paramount, don't be motivated by what other
people want and avoid "parasites" (his label for people who need help);
only by doing this can you be true to yourself and truly "ethical." The
flip side, of course, is that this worldview discredits virtues like
charity, teamwork and compassion--but maybe we just don't get it.
Executive Success resembles motivational groups such as the Landmark
Forum, the Sterling Institute of Relationship and Lifespring. It also
is reminiscent of the "human potential" training of the 1970s, with a
few Scientology-like elements and parallels to EST, the much-criticized
groupthink program founded by Werner Erhard. Unlike EST, which famously
discouraged students from using the bathroom during sessions, Executive
Success offers plenty of breaks. Students pay up to $10,000 for five
days of lectures and intense emotional probing in daily 13-hour cram
sessions. They remove their shoes for class, learn obscure handshakes
and wear patented colored sashes in dozens of different variations that
signify rank in the organization. When a higher-ranking student enters
the room they must stand to show respect. They are taught to bow to one
another and to "Vanguard." When he makes a rare appearance, Elvis-like,
students rush up to him. Some ex-clients say they have seen him greet
each woman with a kiss on the mouth, although Raniere denies this.
Once a day the attendees recite a 12-point mission statement written by
Raniere. (Sample: "There are no ultimate victims; therefore, I will not
choose to be a victim.") It is apocalyptic in tone, with the occasional
grammatical error--his genius notwithstanding. The world is full of
people who try to "destroy each other, steal from each other, down each
other or rejoice at another's demise." Thus, he writes, "it is
essential for the survival of humankind" that the world's wealth and
resources be controlled by "successful, ethical people"--i.e., those
trained at Executive Success.
It is quite a sales job, one that comes naturally to this corporate
Svengali. Born in Brooklyn and bred in the suburbs, Raniere has a flair
for promotion, like his adman father. An old bio labels Keith "one of
the top three problem solvers in the world." His current Web site
quotes Albert Schweitzer, Margaret Mead--and himself. "Humans can be
noble. The question is: Will we put forth what is necessary?" he
writes, concluding that his program "represents the change humanity
needs in order to alter the course of history."
Raniere claims he spoke in full sentences when he was a 1-year-old,
taught himself high school math in 19 hours when he was 12 and, by 13,
had learned three years of college math and several computer languages.
As a boy he read an Isaac Asimov sci-fi novel about a brilliant
scientist who knew his galaxy was in irremediable decline and had
reduced all human behavior to elegant mathematical equations. It
inspired Raniere later to try to do the same. After graduating from
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, N.Y. in 1982, with majors in
physics, math and biology, he went to work in computer programming and
consulting.
On the job he began to nurture his notion of unalloyed self-interest as
the path to ethical behavior. He felt employees too often took jobs
they didn't like and made decisions they didn't believe in. A more
ethical world, he reasoned, would consist of people who understood
their goals and pursued them. Raniere says he found inspiration in
Rand's books. The protagonists in Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead
are über-individualists, aggressive and ruthless.
In 1990 Raniere decided to apply his theory to his new business,
Consumers' Buyline, a multilevel marketing program near Albany that
promised lucrative commissions to old customers for recruiting new
ones. He barnstormed the nation promoting discounts on groceries,
dishwashers and even hotel stays, stoking crowds of a thousand
pumped-up and profit-hungry people. "He was like a mythological
figure--the guy with the 240 IQ was coming to town," says Robert
Bremner, a former distributor for the outfit.
Raniere says by the end of 1993 he had sold $1 billion in goods and
services, employed 80 people and had a quarter-million believers paying
him $19 a month to hawk his goods. He claims he was worth $50 million.
Yet he appeared to carry no money, says Bremner, adding that Raniere
seemed to sleep all day, rolled into his office around 10 p.m. and
sometimes held meetings at 1 a.m. Business flagged, debt ballooned and
customers complained. Regulators in 20 states began to investigate. In
1993 the New York attorney general filed a civil suit alleging
Consumers' Buyline was a pyramid scheme. Without admitting wrongdoing,
Raniere settled for $40,000, of which he has paid only $9,000. He says
he can't pay the rest, though he also says his ample finances let him
live on savings.
A year later Raniere created another multilevel outfit, National Health
Network, which sold vitamins. He and his then-girlfriend, Toni Natalie,
set up a health food shop in Clifton Park, N.Y. One day in 1997 Raniere
met the woman who would become his business partner, Nancy Salzman. She
is a nurse and therapist who has studied hypnosis and neurolinguistic
programming, by which therapists examine and mimic a person's language
and speech patterns to alter behavior. (Raniere has studied this, too.)
Salzman had just gone through a tough time. She found Raniere to be
riveting. He became her spiritual guide, and she became his most ardent
follower. "There is probably no discovery since writing as important
for humankind as Mr. Raniere's technology," she once wrote in a
brochure. She ended up treating Raniere's girlfriend, Toni Natalie,
with therapy and lending her $50,000 for the health food business. When
it flopped in 1999, a bitter battle ensued in U.S. bankruptcy court in
Albany. Raniere sided with Salzman. Natalie moved away. Court records
show Raniere sent Natalie verses from Paradise Lost, annotated
("Commits to evil for protection--stupid/weak."). He drew a diagram
that plotted her life and said she was in danger of careening down a
"pride barrier" to a "dream death line."
Raniere and Salzman don't directly deny the assertions, but they say
Natalie may have altered court documents--a charge Natalie says is
outrageous. In January a U.S. judge said he found it "disturbing" to
hear testimony that Raniere had had police sent to Natalie's mother's
house and had made repeated threats to her and her family. Raniere has
appealed several times, driving Natalie to the brink of a breakdown. "I
can't think. I can't work. I can't pay my bills," she says.
In 1998 Salzman incorporated in Delaware the company that launched
Executive Success Programs and applied for patents on Raniere's
behavior-modification "technology." She and "Vanguard" agreed that he
would get a share of the profits at some point. The company is now also
known as Nxivm. Classes now are offered in Albany, Manhattan, Seattle,
Boston and several cities in Mexico, with plans to expand. In August,
in a squat, brown office complex near the Albany airport, 50
entrepreneurs and bankers sat on overstuffed couches, earnestly
discussing words like "value" and "ethics." Days begin at 8 a.m. with
the "ESP handclap," akin to using a gavel to open a court hearing.
Students then go through sessions on "Money," "Face of the Universe,"
"Control, Freedom & Surrender" and more. They learn baffling and
solipsistic jargon: "Parasites" are people who suffer, creating
problems where none exist and craving attention. "Suppressives" see
good but want to destroy it. Thus, a person who criticizes Executive
Success is showing suppressive behavior.
In "Money," students are taught that every dollar spent represents a
portion of effort, and that "Vanguard identified the concept of giving
and taking with integrity." Coaches urge students to take each session
several times at a cost of several thousand dollars--and to think of
each dollar spent as a worthwhile representation of that effort. In a
core piece of the program, known as "exploration of meaning," teachers
plumb students' beliefs and backgrounds, looking for emotional buttons.
People are encouraged to reveal a negative habit, describe how it
benefits survival and pledge to replace it with a new one.
Confidentiality is sacrosanct. Students must sign a nondisclosure
agreement and vow never to talk about what they learn. If they violate
it, they are "compromising inner honesty and integrity." In August
Raniere sued a woman for, the suit claimed, divulging information. When
a Forbes reporter asked to audit a session, the group's lawyer
presented a three-page confidentiality agreement forbidding the
magazine to write about virtually anything seen or heard at the event.
The reporter declined (and later was allowed to make a brief visit to
the Albany site).
It is all too intense for some. After sleepless nights and 17-hour days
of workshops, a 28-year-old woman from a prominent Mexican family says
she began to have hallucinations and had a mental breakdown at her
hotel near Albany. She went to a hospital and required psychiatric
treatment. Her psychiatrist, Carlos Rueda, says in the last three years
he has treated two others who have taken the class; one had a psychotic
episode.
Stephanie Franco, a New Jersey social worker, spent $2,160 plus
expenses for a five-day class in Albany at the suggestion of her
half-brother, an executive at a family apparel company (Lollytogs and
other brands). Other relatives joined, but Franco became concerned
about the group's rituals and its emphasis on recruitment. The family
hired Rick A. Ross, a Jersey City, N.J. specialist in cults, to
intervene, to no avail. He put information about the organization on
his Web site--and promptly got sued by Raniere and Salzman, who accuse
him of copyright violations. In September an Albany federal judge
denied the organization's initial request that Ross remove the
information.
The family also hired John Hochman, a forensic psychiatrist who teaches
at UCLA, who pored over the Executive Success manual and describes it
thusly: "It is a kingdom of sorts, ruled by a Vanguard, who writes his
own dictionary of the English language, has his own moral code and the
ability to generate taxes on subjects by having them participate in his
seminars. It is a kingdom with no physical borders, but with
psychological borders--influencing how his subjects spend their time,
socialize, and think." In the lawsuit Raniere and Salzman made similar
claims regarding alleged copyright violations against Hochman, as well
as against Stephanie Franco.
Raniere and Salzman say they are careful to avoid accepting troubled
students. In their world, those who question Raniere's views simply
don't get it. He speaks slowly and methodically, with digression upon
digression, using words he has defined for himself and then pausing to
explain each term. You might think it pure genius. Or maybe horse
manure.
Still, many disciples swear by Vanguard. Several students have achieved
a high enough rank to qualify for a 20% commission on their new
recruits. But most students are in it for the coaching. Sara Bronfman,
Edgar Sr.'s 26-year-old daughter, says she started taking classes at
the end of 2002 after her marriage fell apart. She was living in
Belgium and heard about the class from a family friend. She marveled at
how much Raniere was able to teach her. Sara has since been promoted to
the rank of coach; she now works full time for Executive Success.
Sara and other devotees are talking about erecting centers in Australia
and elsewhere. Raniere has lined up private investors to pay for a $15
million, 75,000-square-foot building near Albany. As originally
designed, the building was to emerge from a stone foundation under a
six-sided, glass roof. It is meant to be a tribute to
civilization--another step in the mission to spread Vanguard's gospel
around the world. "I don't know how much you know about my family,"
Sara Bronfman says, admiring the silky cloth around her chest, "but,
coming from a family where I've never had to earn anything before in my
life, [it] was a very, very moving experience for me to be awarded this
yellow sash. It was the first thing that I had earned on just my
merits."
depro...@mailandnews.com
blac...@dia.gov
depro...@MailandNews.com wrote:
> Nancy Salzman
see http://www.nxivm.com/nancy_1024.php
She's the President of NXIVM Corporation and Executive Success Programs
Nancy Salzman, President of NXIVM Corporation and Executive Success
Programs, Inc. has over 20 years of intensive study and practice in the
fields of healthcare, human potential, and human empowerment.
After almost two decades of searching for unique, permanent therapeutic
solutions to human performance problems, Ms. Salzman became aware that
most models were ineffective in producing the results they promised. It
was at this time that she met Keith Raniere, creator of Rational
Inquiry". Mr. Raniere mentored and taught Ms. Salzman his remarkable
technology and they soon found that she was able to reproduce his
unprecedented results.
In 1998, Ms. Salzman incorporated Executive Success Programs and
implemented a new, reproducible method of teaching Mr. Raniere's model
while ensuring consistent results. As the leading authority in Rational
Inquiry" and one of the top trainers of human potential in the world,
Ms. Salzman coaches and provides special counsel to prominent
individuals and leaders worldwide.
Ms. Salzman now allocates the majority of her time to further
developing the company's capacity to meet its ever-growing needs.
Because of her strong belief in developing each individual, she
personally works with over 300 Coaches and 30 Regional Executives in the
United States and Mexico.
--
"The truth is always the strongest argument."
Sophocles