Recovery sucks. It is one of the most difficult things to do in life. I have been a social worker for about 5 years in the realm of homeless and addiction assistance and have personally been affected by addiction in my family. And if there is one thing I can say that should define recovery…it’s an act of courage and immense strength. I have never witnessed anything more impressive in my life. Recovery is an act of reclamation. It’s a deeply personal struggle with deeply personal results.
Unfortunately, those struggling are often also the most taken advantage of by those who seek to enrich themselves within the addiction treatment industry. I have personally come across various institutional and independent entities that have made it a business to push people through programs which end up having not been entirely transparent about their aims.
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But they are not all bad. Don’t get me wrong- Institutional recovery programs, such as 12-step frameworks, inpatient rehabilitation centers, and medication-assisted treatments, often serve as essential lifelines for those struggling with addiction. These systems provide structure, community, and evidence-based interventions that can be critical in the early stages of recovery.
However, they can also become problematic when their rigid frameworks overshadow individual autonomy. The emphasis on conformity to specific narratives—such as the necessity of surrendering to a higher power or adhering to a universal model of sobriety—can inadvertently create new forms of dependency. Critics like Michel Foucault highlight how institutional systems can reinforce power dynamics, prioritizing social reintegration and compliance over personal empowerment. This risks transforming recovery into a process of assimilation rather than liberation, where individuals feel pressure to fit into predefined molds rather than crafting their unique paths to healing. When recovery becomes a one-size-fits-all paradigm, it risks alienating those whose needs, identities, or values diverge from the institutional norms.
So…let’s talk about Max Stirner’s philosophy in relation to the potential spooks of the world of recovery because I believe it offers a powerful lens to examine these questions. Ultimately, his concept of “spooks” invites us to ask the central question: What ideas have I internalized in my recovery, and what ideas are truly mine?
Today, we’ll explore how Stirner’s philosophy, along with insights from thinkers like Gabor Maté, Michel Foucault, and Deleuze and Guattari, can help untangle the rhetoric of recovery from spooks. So…for the haters let me preemptively say this: This isn’t about rejecting recovery, not at all—it’s about reclaiming it.
Addiction as a Struggle with Spooks
Let’s start with addiction. Addiction often arises from unmet needs—a truth that resonates deeply. Many of us lack the tools to meet our own needs, often because we were never taught how. Some of us try to suppress those needs, shutting them off entirely. In that struggle, we reach for whatever is available to cope. And let’s be honest—drugs are not only accessible but remarkably effective in the short term. This is why addiction is not a failure of willpower; it’s a response to not knowing how to navigate the complexities of one’s own psyche.
As Gabor Maté emphasizes in In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts, addiction stems from pain, trauma, and an innate yearning for connection. Maté provides a compassionate lens for understanding addiction, viewing it not as a moral failing but as a coping mechanism developed in response to unresolved emotional wounds. He underscores how early childhood experiences—neglect, abuse, or chronic stress—can disrupt brain development, altering the reward systems and leaving individuals more vulnerable to addictive behaviors.
Furthermore, Maté critiques the stigma surrounding addiction and the punitive nature of many societal systems. He advocates for a trauma-informed approach, one rooted in empathy and understanding, emphasizing that healing requires addressing the underlying pain, fostering reconnection with oneself, and creating environments of safety and compassion.
What Would Stirner Say?
Max Stirner’s philosophy provides a strikingly different lens through which to view these ideas. He might pose an essential, thought-provoking question—not as an expectation but as a thought experiment:
Who are you without your trauma? Without your pain? Without the abuse you endured in childhood? Who are you if those experiences, while undeniably formative, were nothing more than choices you could now set aside?
And please, don’t get mad right now and stop listening.This is not me trivializing or denying trauma. I myself am right now in this moment going through immense trauma from the last 15 years and am trying to find my way through the horrifying warzone that time has left behind in my mind. I am diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and would absolutely never try to diminish anyone’s trauma. I actually want to help you. And if this does not help you then I understand. But please hear me out, because I do actually think this is important.
I believe that there is nothing that diminishes trauma more than the world’s favorite approved coping mechanisms we rely on to push it into the background. So…Stirner’s approach is not accusatory or judgmental. It’s not about pointing fingers at individuals or demanding they overcome their struggles through sheer willpower. Actually, I think his philosophy is deeply empathetic and invites a fresh perspective, one that acknowledges the fragility of the psyche and our tendency to internalize external forces at the expense of our agency.
For Stirner, addiction would not be a matter of fault or blame. He would reject collective narratives that offer societal approval or externally imposed solutions. Instead, he would direct attention to the individual, beginning with the assertion: “I am the owner of my might.” Which is a statement that encapsulates his belief in the primacy of self-ownership and agency, even in the face of internalized pain.
Stirner’s Dialectical Egoism
To fully grasp how Stirner’s philosophy aligns with this discussion, it’s essential to understand the distinction between his philosophical approach - his dialectical egoism - and other philosophical frameworks. Stirner’s egoism is neither rooted in abstract thought, as in Hegelian idealism, nor in material conditions, as in Marxism. Unlike Hegel, who sees the individual as part of a universal progression of ideas, or Marx, who emphasizes the material realities shaping human life, Stirner focuses on ownness—the capacity to claim and define oneself free from external abstractions, or “spooks.”
Spooks, in Stirner’s terms, are internalized ideals, norms, and structures that exert control over the individual. These could include societal expectations, moral imperatives, or even the notion of addiction itself as a fixed identity. Stirner’s goal is not to dismiss the material realities of life or the internalizations borne of trauma but to challenge individuals to examine which of these constructs they choose to keep. His philosophy is about navigating a world that wants to own us with the optimism that one can truly become their own—not by denying pain or rejecting methods of healing, but by reclaiming agency in how they define and interact with these experiences.
This approach offers a unique and liberatory perspective. It does not strip people of their material realities or the scars of their past but instead encourages them to question which parts of their identity they genuinely own. For those struggling with addiction or the rhetoric of recovery, this can be a powerful tool: not a replacement for healing but a companion to it, a way of stepping outside inherited narratives and reclaiming the ability to chart one’s own path.
The Rhetoric of Recovery and Its Spooks
So what is the rhetoric of recovery? Well the best way to look for rhetorical rationale is to look at representations of recovery in discourse. So let’s conduct a tiny discourse analysis by looking at the biggest recovery programs available in America and checking out their mission statements.
So what programs does the recovery realm even have to offer. Let’s look at the most popular according to Google:
First, we have 12 step programs like Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous, the most widely recognized recovery program, founded in 1953, and focused on abstinence and mutual support through a 12-step spiritual framework.
Then there are Residential Rehabilitation Centers like the Betty Ford Center which is part of the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation. This is one of the most prominent rehabilitation organizations offering inpatient and outpatient services.
Then we have Medication-Assisted Treatment Providers like the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) which is a government agency offering grants and resources for MAT, such as the use of methadone, buprenorphine, and naltrexone.
Additionally, we have Harm Reduction Organizations, like the International Network of People Who Use Drugs (INPUD) which advocates for the rights and safety of drug users globally.
Then we have State and Federal Addiction Programs such as the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA) which conducts research and provides funding for addiction science and treatment approaches.
And last but not least we have Faith-Based Recovery Institutions like Teen Challenge (Global) which is a Christian-based recovery program with centers worldwide focusing on faith and discipline as pathways to sobriety. Or Celebrate Recovery (USA) which is another faith-driven alternative to traditional 12-step programs.
Of course there are more, but let’s look at a few of these for now.
So, recovery programs often come with their own rhetoric— or a kind of symbolic language that shapes how we think about healing. These frameworks can be life-changing, but they also risk becoming spooks themselves. So let’s look at the mission statements and conduct a brief Stirnerian analysis of them.
Before I go into this I need you all to understand that if you are struggling with addiction, it is always preferable to seek help. As much as Stirner wants to encourage you to think for yourself, he would likely also never want anyone to become lost in the critique itself as a coping mechanism or justification for the further mistreatment of oneself. So, please, do not take this as anything but explorations of the potential problems with these institutions and organizations. Please also remember that you always deserve to be okay, no matter what. And accepting help is never a bad thing.
Nonetheless, let’s first have a look at the philosophy of the NA program.
Narcotics Anonymous (NA) employs abstractions like addiction, spirituality, and community, which Stirner would critique as spooks that subordinate individuality to fixed ideals. By framing addiction as a universal "disease" requiring complete abstinence, as reflected in the notion that "complete and continuous abstinence provides the best foundation for recovery," NA risks reducing unique experiences to a single narrative. Similarly, its emphasis on "spiritual principles" as foundational, even in a non-religious context, creates a moral framework that demands adherence, which replaces personal sovereignty with an abstract ideal. While NA’s decentralized structure encourages mutual support, the collective authority of "NA group meetings" may pressure conformity, prioritizing group identity over personal freedom. Additionally, the rigid focus on abstinence as the only valid path to recovery, described as "the principle of complete abstinence," can act as a moral dogma, which limits individual paths to healing.
Now, let’s look at the "About Us & Our Mission" text from the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation, with relevant quotes highlighted and analyzed:
The Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation’s mission emphasizes collective healing, societal transformation, and institutional expertise, which Stirner would likely critique as spooks altogether. All in all, the language used in the mission statement is quite vague and self-congratulatory with big aims and fancy language. Statements like considering itself to be a "force of healing and hope" feels quite collectivist and self-elevating and therefore more focused on selling the organization rather than focusing on the how. Similarly, the commitment to helping society "rise above stigma and overcome addiction" sounds a lot like a spook of moral progress, that frames personal struggles as tools for collective transformation. The organization’s emphasis on its "legacy" and institutional scale legitimizes authority through historical abstraction. Recovery is framed as a path to "freedom" from addiction and mental health conditions, which sounds like a way to enforce a binary view that denies personal redefinitions of health and happiness. Moreover, its focus on charity, innovation, and professionalized recovery reinforces the commodification of healing, and encourages deference to institutional authority. Once again we have the problem of definition, telling us what recovery is, what addiction is and how freedom is a collective path.
And last but not least, let’s take one of the faith based programs. In this case we got Celebrate Recovery.
Celebrate Recovery’s framework relies heavily on spooks of divine authority, institutional growth, and moral universality. The program's claim of a divine vision as its origin illustrates the spook of divine calling, where God’s authority overrides personal reasoning. What is expected here is surrender. And the organization is used as a proxy for God, whose love we should be surrendering to. Now mind you, there is nothing essentially wrong with surrender. But surrendering as a principle path to freedom makes this notion problematic. The program universalizes pain and addiction, and frames them as collective struggles resolvable only through "Christ’s healing power." This shifts the locus of recovery from the individual to an external narrative times 1 million. The emphasis on the founder's legacy perpetuates a historical spook, by suggesting that the program’s value derives from its founders’ divine mission rather than from the lived experiences of individuals.
Now, let’s look at our findings and ask some other philosophers why these programs could potentially be problematic.
But before we do this I would like to remind all of you of our awesome project which is still working hard on the various ways to build a network for all things Stirner. We are still working on our Stirner library, which will ultimately help you have easy access to research, essays, videos, and more on or about Stirner and his work. Then we have the e-zine and its newsletter, which offer reviews, personal essays, short analyses, research, thought experiments and more on Stirner and his work and its relevance to contemporary society. And now we are working on the podcast. You can become a member of this project either by contributing financially, or becoming a project assistant. Please feel free to have a look at the project website under recurringparadox.com for more information. You can also find the link in the description.
The Spooks
Universal Narratives
First, we got the problem of universal narratives. Recovery programs often frame the journey of healing as a universal, collective experience that assumes all individuals undergo the same process. From a Foucauldian perspective, this reflects a regime of truth that seeks to normalize the experience of addiction rather than showing us the societal pitfalls which can lead to the development of addictions including its horrendous moralizations and control mechanisms regarding things like the drug trade, media representations, the nuclear family, labor structures and more. These programs don’t critically reflect the social tendency …well… socialize and condition the individual. And by positioning addiction as a shared, universal experience, recovery programs deny the individuality of each person's trauma and response to that socialization.
Moral Absolutism
Then we have moral absolutism. Moral frameworks such as abstinence, spirituality, or faith often function as rigid ideals within recovery programs. From a Deleuzian perspective, these frameworks represent forms of molar control, where individual desires and tendencies are subsumed under abstract, collective moral codes. These frameworks become tools of power that standardize behavior, and create a fixed identity of the "recovered" person.. Deleuze and Guattari’s concept of minority or nomadic subjectivity—where the individual remains fluid, multiplicative, and in motion—clashes with the way recovery programs often demand conformity and fixity in the name of healing. These external moralities are essentially spooks that impose a sense of right and wrong that are alien to the individual’s genuine desires and experiences.
From Freud’s perspective, this moral absolutism taps into the superego, the internalized social and moral structures that govern the psyche. The superego acts as the internalized authority, and in recovery programs, this is projected outward through the imposition of rules like abstinence and spiritual obedience. While this is supposed to help, it actually runs the risk of creating another cycle of guilt, shame, and self-punishment, which stifles the individual’s capacity for self-empowerment and healthy self-expression.
Institutional Authority
Then there is the problem of legitimacy. The legitimacy of recovery programs is often derived from their institutional scale, historical legacy, or widespread adoption, rather than the true effectiveness of their approach. This, again, is a Foucauldian critique: institutions derive their power not from the authenticity of their methods but from the sheer force of their presence in society. This does not take into account the power structures it took to get there. Foucault's work on governmentality suggests that the power of institutions comes not just from formal authority but from their ability to shape individuals into obedient subjects through the regulation of knowledge and behavior. When recovery programs are legitimized by their institutional scale, they perpetuate systems of control that mask the underlying power structures. This dynamic shifts the locus of authority from the individual to the collective, and erode personal autonomy in the process.
Commodification of Healing
Then there is another problem. The professionalization and institutionalization of recovery transforms the process of healing into a commodified product or service. In a Deleuzian and Guattarian sense that means that the product, through the continued de-and reterritorialization becomes watered down and loses its potency. Which often turns genuine projects to offer paths of healing into products that are sold to give the illusion of healing. This reduction of healing to a marketable product reflects a capitalist logic that relies on external systems for individual empowerment. From a Marxist-Foucauldian critique, this can be seen as part of a larger structure of neoliberal governance, where healing becomes part of the service economy. This means that these options exist, but they are there to support the image of a social system that cares rather than actually helping.
The commodification of healing also serves to further entrench the power dynamics of institutional authority. Recovery programs become market-driven, and start competing for financial support and legitimacy, rather than focusing on true empowerment of the individual. This institutionalization risks further alienating the individual from their own healing process by turning it into a transaction rather than a deeply personal transformation.
A Stirnerian Method?
And now you’re probably thinking. Okay but what is the option? What would Stirner do?
Well…let me give you my perspective of what I think Stirner does in general.
Stirner would likely not start an organization, be it non-governmental, non-profit or for- profit, to get this whole cycle of potential spooks going. He also wouldn’t stand in a fancy building and start yapping about what recovery is and what would help you fix your life.
What he would do is encourage individuals to find their own path by reminding them of the bs throughout our life’s path which may have had an influence on our self-image and our behavior.
He would also likely try to remind us that these influences are a continuous force in our lives and they will always be there, meaning he would encourage self-reflection and a critical engagement with the outside world.
I see Stirner as a supplement. I feel like every organization should have a little Stirner with the official title of a spook-checker. I’m kidding of course, but for the sake of the argument, let’s imagine it.
The spook-checker is a little entity that looks for bs in everything. Rather than looking for FACTS, it looks for potential critical perspectives that could help us understand things and make informed decisions.
So, on a personal level, this little entity would constantly ask things like: Who imposed this label on me? Is it an accurate reflection of who I am, or is it a spook that I'm carrying because society, programs, or others have told me this is who I must be?
So…in this way…Stirner doesn’t have anything to offer that could be integrated on a collective level. And that is what many people say makes his philosophy pointless. But I disagree. I think that his work has the potential to create a little spook-checker in the mind that could improve interpersonal relations in that it would, by the simply act of what he refers to ownness, embody authenticity and self-care, which ultimately could encourage others to find the same within themselves. But only as long as the ego is considered the ultimate authority in determining one’s path, and not as a prescription for how others should act or be.
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Bibliography
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Vintage Books, 1995: https://amzn.to/40JHKRd
Maté, Gabor. In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction. North Atlantic Books, 2008: https://amzn.to/4g4krFX
Stirner, Max. The Ego and Its Own: https://amzn.to/4hrUGAu
Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari. Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. University of Minnesota Press, 1983: https://amzn.to/4h3MnLt
The Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation. "About Us & Our Mission." Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation, www.hazeldenbettyford.org.
Celebrate Recovery. "About Celebrate Recovery." Celebrate Recovery, www.celebraterecovery.com.
Narcotics Anonymous. Narcotics Anonymous: It Works: How and Why. Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1988:
The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA). "Medication-Assisted Treatment (MAT)." SAMHSA, www.samhsa.gov.
International Network of People Who Use Drugs (INPUD). Global Advocacy for the Rights of People Who Use Drugs. INPUD,www.inpud.net.