My Hero and the Hoffman Institute

By: James Crabtree

Posted: 5/4/06

Derek Draper was something of a hero of mine. I met him only once, at a party in a restaurant in London. I was slightly in awe. I was also slightly drunk. Derek was a celebrated, charismatic young spin doctor. He worked with the most renowned of Tony Blair's political advisors. He was also disgraced, having been caught at the centre of a scandal known as "lobbygate".

This mix of political savvy and corruption made him infamous. He was part George Stephanopolous, part Jack Abramoff. He ignored me that night in the restaurant. But I remained slightly in awe.

Why do I mention this? After the lobbygate scandal broke, Draper sank into a deep depression. On the recommendation of his therapist he decided to try an unusual week-long psychotherapy retreat to help solve his problems. Having done so, Draper became a convert. In fact he says the process saved his life. That retreat was run by the Hoffman Institute.

For those that don't know, some thirty or so KSG students spent their spring break at a Hoffman Institute retreat. The trip was backed by the Centre for Public Leadership. It was apparently funded by a donation from Steve Belkin, a wealthy entrepreneur. Belkin was so convinced by his experience at Hoffman that he wanted more people to experience it. In so far as I can establish it, the cost of this jaunt was something in the region of a quarter of a million dollars.

So, what is the institute? It was founded by a Bob Hoffman. His methods are said to be a commonsense fusion of Freud and Jung. He happened upon them after "he underwent a profound personal transformation in 1967." He set up the first institute in San Anselmo, California. There are now institutes across America, as well as in various international locations including one on the South Coast of England that Draper attended.

Hoffman's insight was that all of our lives and attitudes are deeply affected by our parents, much more so than we realize. An example from one participant put it like this:

"We could even be running our whole lives in reaction to our parents without knowing it. If your father was, for example, workaholic, status-obsessed and fearful of intimacy, you may be compelled to lead a driven, barren life just like his, or you may have dropped out with a dope habit." Either way, the participant concludes, you are never free of your parents.

This might all seem sensible enough. But there other elements of Hoffman's institute look more than a little kooky. This nowhere more true than on its board of advisors. Take, for instance, Sonia Choquette, Ph.D. Sonia is a "practicing psychic". Not only that, she is a "third generation" practicing psychic. She has been doing whatever psychic's do since "the age of 12."

But fear not. If Sonia's inherited powers aren't your cup of tea, Hoffman is also advised by Margot Anand. Margot has a background in "Gestalt therapy, Tantra yoga, bioenergetics, and meditation," and "is appreciated for her ability to bring healing, lightness, fun and passion to the role of sex and sensuality in our lives."

So far, so curious. But it gets stranger still. The process involves spending a week in an isolated retreat, without access to telephones or television. Alcohol is prohibited. Obliquely, the institute tells you that "you will need a tape cassette player for listening to standard-size cassette tapes." And you must sign a contract to attend, which includes a strict no masturbation clause.

What do people actually do? Such as I could discover the method involves an eclectic range of activities. These include discussions in which you are invited both to attack and defend your parents, followed by the attacking of a pillow with a whiffle bat to remove any lasting anger you feel towards them. Music, singing, bonfires and rituals to honor participants are also involved.

This might sound odd, but it seems to work. Everyone that I have spoken to about the process has been enthusiastic. It is important to stress this. Although tight-lipped on the details, no one seemed to think it was a waste of time. In any case, the trip was provided free by CPL. Most people seemed to go along skeptically for the ride, but returned having learned something from the experience.

Ultimately, who am I to judge? My hero Derek Draper said it saved his life. Processes like Hoffman can surely be a valuable experience. They can teach us about ourselves and others. But, crucially, this is true of many things; from outward bound trips to formal psychotherapy. Yet outward bound trips and formal psychotherapy are not normally considered to be appropriate elements for inclusion in an academic environment. Enlightening as Hoffman might have been, is it really the sort of thing that belongs in a university?