"An A.A. group ought never
endorse, finance, or lend the A.A. name to any related facility or outside
enterprise, lest problems of money, property, and prestige divert us from our
primary purpose."
The
moment we saw we had an answer for alcoholism, it was reasonable (or so it seemed
at the time) for us to feel that we might have the answer to a lot of other
things. The A.A. groups, many thought, could go into business, might finance
any enterprise whatever in the total field of alcoholism. In fact, we felt
duty-bound to throw the whole weight of the A.A. name behind any meritorious
cause.
Here
are some of the things we dreamed. Hospitals didn't like alcoholics, so we
thought we'd build a hospital chain of our own. People needed to be told what
alcoholism was, so we'd educate the public, even rewrite school and medical
textbooks. We'd gather up derelicts from skid rows, sort out those who could
get well, and make it possible for the rest to earn their livelihood in a kind
of quarantined confinement. Maybe these places would make large sums of money
to carry on our other good works. We seriously thought of rewriting the laws of
the land , and having it declared that alcoholics are sick people. No more
would they be jailed; judges would parole them in our custody. We'd spill A.A.
into the dark regions of dope addiction and criminality. We'd form groups of
depressive and paranoid folks; the deeper the neurosis, the better we'd like
it. It stood to reason that if alcoholism could be licked, so could any
problem.
It
occurred to us that we could take what we had into the factories and cause
laborers and capitalists to love each other. Our uncompromising honesty might
soon clean up politics. With one arm around the shoulder of medicine, we'd
resolve their differences. Having learned to live so happily, we'd show
everybody else how. Why, we thought, our Society of Alcoholics Anonymous might
prove to be the spearhead of a new spiritual advance! We might transform the
world.
Yes, we of A.A. did dream
those dreams. How natural that was, since most alcoholics are bankrupt
idealists. Nearly every one of us had wished to do great good, perform great
deeds, and embody great ideals. We are all perfectionists who, failing
perfection, have gone to the other extreme and settled for the bottle and the
blackout. Providence, through A.A., had brought us within reach of our highest
expectations. So why shouldn't we share our way of life with everyone?
Whereupon
we tried A.A. hospitals-they all bogged down because you cannot put an A.A.
group into business; too many busybody cooks spoil the broth. A.A. groups had
their fling at education, and when they began to publicly whoop up the merits
of this or that brand, people became confused. Did A.A. fix drunks or was it an
educational project? Was A.A. spiritual or was it medical? Was it a reform
movement? In consternation, we saw ourselves getting married to all kinds of
enterprises, some good and some not so good. Watching alcoholics committed
will-nilly to prisons or asylums, we began to cry, "There oughtta be a
law!" A.A.'s commenced to thump tables in legislative committee rooms and
agitated for legal reform. That made good newspaper copy, but little else. We
saw we'd soon be mired in politics. Even inside A.A. we found it imperative to
remove the A.A. name from clubs and Twelfth Step houses .
These adventures
implanted a deep-rooted conviction that in no circumstances could we endorse
any related enterprise, no matter how good. We of Alcoholics Anonymous could
not be all things to all men, nor should we try.
Years
ago this principle of "no endorsement" was put to a vital test. Some
of the great distilling companies proposed to go into the field of alcohol
education. It would be a good thing, they believed, for the liquor trade to
show a sense of public responsibility. They wanted to say that liquor should be
enjoyed, not misused; hard drinkers ought to slow down, and problem
drinkers-alcoholics-should not drink at all.
In one of their trade
associations, the question arose of just how this campaign should be handled.
Of course, they would use the resources of radio, press, and films to make
their point. But what kind of person should head the job? They immediately
thought of Alcoholics Anonymous. If they could find a good public relations man
in our ranks, why wouldn't he be ideal? He'd certainly know the problem. His
connection with A.A. would be valuable, because the Fellowship stood high in
public favor and hadn't an enemy in the world.
Soon
they'd spotted their man, an A.A. with the necessary experience. Straightway he
appeared at New York's A.A. headquarters, asking, "Is there anything in
our tradition that suggests I shouldn't take a job like this one? The kind of
education seems good to me, and is not too controversial. Do you headquarters
folks see any bugs in it?"
At
first glance, it did look like a good thing. Then doubt crept in. The
association wanted to use our member's full name in all its advertising; he was
to be described both as its director of publicity and as a member of Alcoholics
Anonymous. Of course, there couldn't be the slightest objection if such an
association hired an A.A. member solely because of his public relations ability
and his knowledge of alcoholism. But that wasn't the whole story, for in this
case not only was an A.A. member to break his anonymity at a public level, he
was to link the name Alcoholics Anonymous to this particular educational
project in the minds of millions. It would be bound to appear that A.A. was now
backing education-liquor trade association style.
The
minute we saw this compromising fact for what it was, we asked the prospective
publicity director how he felt about it. "Great guns!" he said.
"Of course I can't take the job. The ink wouldn't be dry on the first ad
before an awful shriek would go up from the dry camp. They'd be out with
lanterns looking for an honest A.A. to plump for their brand of education. A.A.
would land exactly in the middle of the wet-dry controversy. Half the people in
this country would think we'd signed up with the drys, the other half would
think we'd joined the wets. What a mess!"
"Nevertheless,"
we pointed out, "you still have a legal right to take this job."
"I know that," he said. "But this is no time for legalities. Alcoholics Anonymous saved my life, and it comes first. I certainly won't be the guy to land A.A. in big-time trouble, and this would really do it!"
Concerning
endorsements, our friend had said it all. We saw as never before that we could
not lend the A.A. name to any cause other than our own.