"Hello there, you awakening wonders."
That's how Russell Brand greets his audience at the start of his YouTube videos. This greeting communicates to viewers that they're special, that they're waking up to the truth — and he's the one with the lessons that will help them move forward on their spiritual quests.
What truths does he deliver? Anti-vax conspiracies. Clickbaity advice on "The #1 Reason Why Couples Break Up" and "Find it Hard to Meditate? Then Watch This."
Brand isn't an expert on those topics. He's a comedian with good looks, a fun accent, and a talent for speaking off the cuff. He's also an egomaniac with an adoration addiction who's found the right voice for the right audience.
Brand has spent years developing a guru persona, but a recent slew of sexual assault accusations (and a rehashing of verified disturbing behaviors) makes it clear that he's the last person you should turn to for spiritual guidance.
What Is a False Prophet?
Reading about Russell Brand and sampling his YouTube videos, two labels came to my mind: fake guru and false prophet.
A fake guru is a person who pretends to be an expert on a topic in order to scam customers or students. A false prophet is someone who claims to speak for God in order to gain power, influence, or profit.
Brand doesn't claim to be channeling God, but he does offer spiritual advice, and he profits off of his followers. Let's call him a fake spiritual guru.
He reminds me of the phony guru who once captivated my own imagination: Carlos Castaneda.
Who Was Carlos Castaneda?
Before diving into the life of Carlos Castaneda, I'll acknowledge that "fake" is a subjective term. Castaneda was brilliant. His teachings were profoundly meaningful for many people, myself included. When I call him "fake", I'm referring to the lies and manipulation that were central to his work.
Carlos Castaneda was born in Peru in 1925 and moved to the US in 1951. He earned a bachelor's degree and Ph.D. in anthropology from UCLA. While he was a student, Castaneda authored three books:
- The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge
- A Separate Reality
- Journey to Ixtlan
These famous books, along with his later works, cover Castaneda's supposed shamanistic apprenticeship with Don Juan Matus, a Yaqui sorcerer. The Yaqui are a Native American people of northwest Mexico and Arizona. In his writings, Castaneda describes learning Don Juan's mystical philosophy and experiencing peyote and other psychedelic plants with him.
In my opinion, Castaneda's books were impactful in three ways. First, they were anthropological texts with mainstream appeal, using dramatic storytelling to discuss aspects of a native culture. Second, they sparked public curiosity about the use of hallucinogenic plants for spiritual exploration. Third, they outlined a compelling philosophy on living a powerful, meaningful life.
Likewise, I see three problematic areas regarding Castaneda's work. First, there's the simple fact that his stories were eventually determined to be either mostly or entirely fictional, but he claimed they were real — he even used his third book as his Ph.D. dissertation. Second, he did harm to the Yaqui people and other Native Americans by falsifying anthropological accounts and glorifying stereotypes about Native mysticism.
From Paul Boyer in the Tribal College Journal:
"After Castaneda and other writers popularized peyote, Mexican communities became often reluctant hosts to spiritual tourists eager to experience what they believed don Juan shared with Castaneda. This increased visibility has made it harder for Indians to use peyote in a traditional manner."
The third set of issues surrounding Castaneda's career involve his later years.
Castaneda published a number of books in the 70s and 80s that continued his shamanistic storytelling. He never admitted to any fictional embellishment, even as his tales became increasingly unrealistic and full of magical events.
He lived mostly in seclusion, but privately followed the cult leader playbook: he convinced several impressionable young women to live with him and embrace his shamanistic teachings. They changed their names, wore matching haircuts, and were Castaneda's lovers and devotees — a dual role that always indicates an unhealthy power dynamic.
Castaneda died of cancer in 1998. Many details of his life are hazy because he was so secretive. But, it's clear to anyone who examines the facts that he was a false guru. Sadly, shortly after his death, three of his followers (all women) disappeared. Years later, one of their skeletons was found in the Death Valley desert. It's suspected that the three women killed themselves in an effort to follow Castaneda's teachings about death and transcendence.
Castaneda and Me
When I first read Castaneda, I was unaware of the biographical details described above. I knew that there was controversy surrounding whether or not his books were genuine nonfiction, but that debate seemed silly to me because the stories are so obviously fictional. They're written like novels and describe miracles such as teleportation. Thus, not knowing the full story, I didn't mind that Castaneda was a secretive guy who preferred to cultivate a preposterous mystique.
What mattered to me were the spiritual teachings. Castaneda described a bold way of living that involved "erasing personal history" to break free of the expectations that others place on us. Like nothing I'd ever read before, his books exposed the restrictive thought patterns that I felt were keeping me from living my best life. He inspired me to embrace the spiritual journey above all else.
At that point in my life, he offered the messages that I was craving. I was working the night shift in a psychiatric hospital, drowning in anxiety and ready to break free, but how? Into what reality?
I remember telling a friend, "These books make me feel like I'm flying."
Castaneda's words empowered me, helped me believe that I could live life on my own terms. Thus, I'll never regret reading them and loving them.
When I eventually learned about his awful wrongdoings, Castaneda provided me with an additional lesson — to beware of false prophets.
Reflecting on Russell Brand, Carlos Castaneda, and other spiritual liars, I offer the following:
- A teacher and their teachings are not necessarily in alignment
- Beware gurus who make bold claims about their own exceptionalism
- As a media consumer, be thoughtful about which voices you support and elevate
- Know that many individuals can teach you something, but no one can teach you everything
I believe that those with the most wisdom tend to speak quietly. They don't build media empires. And while a spiritual journey requires mentors and teachers, we should always be wary of individuals who fill those roles too zealously.
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