The latest example in a long line of new-age bunkum is “The Secret,” which promises you everything you want if only you can visualize it and want it enough. You know, without all of that pesky effort, work, committment, or talent. The book & DVD combo are nicely summarized and dissected by Jason Steorts on NRO:
An Australian TV producer named Rhonda Byrne recently began moonlighting as prophetess-in-the-desert. In this more exalted station she made a film and wrote a book, both called The Secret and both claiming to reveal The Secret. The Secret to what? Why, to everything: wealth, health, relationships, happiness, world peace. Want to be a millionaire next month? Consult The Secret. Feel like eating whatever you wish and having 8 percent body fat? It’s in The Secret. Need to re-grow that diseased kidney? The Secret tells you how.
This Secret works according to something called the law of attraction, which governs the Universe (a word always capitalized by Ms. Byrne, who uses it much as a Christian or a Jew would use “God”). “The law of attraction says like attracts like, and so as you think a thought, you are also attracting like thoughts to yourself.” Not merely thoughts: “If you can think about what you want in your mind, and make that your dominant thought, you will bring it into your life. . . . Your thoughts become things!”
Any time someone asserts that success in life is dependent on having a certain vibrational profile or resonating on a certain frequency you can be sure they are utterly full of crap. And yet this book is sold out all over the country. Steorts considers the profile of a “Secret” believer:
I first began to wonder whether a specific kind of person is especially vulnerable to Byrne’s enchantments when a friend of mine described his plan for getting into shape with The Secret. “I’m going to attract a sixpack,” he proclaimed. When I faithlessly asked whether his abs could use some time in the gym, he conceded that yes, he might have to do a few sit-ups — “but not as many as someone who isn’t putting it out there.”
Now this friend is by no means stupid. He has a clever and agile mind, and would probably get a high score on an IQ test. At the same time, he has one of the most aggressively anti-philosophical temperaments I have ever encountered. Thought bores him endlessly; he prefers to feel his way through each day. He is full of religious sentiment, having been raised in a family of believers; but, being homosexual, he is now estranged from the faith. For as long as I’ve known him, he has experienced life as a series of crises — personal, financial, professional — and has scanned the horizon for a Great Escape.
It’s easy to think of this stuff as harmless, but in many cases it can take the place of something that could be genuninely helpful to a person. But if you can really be convinced you’re the center of the Universe, then maybe you aren’t helpable.