The Policy Of Truth

Reflections On The Spiritual Teaching Industry

Andy Hobson
6 min readDec 17, 2021

In the age of social media, where the tech masterminds design their platforms so that we constantly consume content but then discard it like an old newspaper each day, the emphasis is on creating more rather than creating something of worth — with true grit and longevity. More of anything is better than nothing it seems.

Sadly, the world of spiritual teaching is no exception. But it should be. Spiritual teaching has been around as long as humans have walked the earth. Teachings from all traditions, cultures, and religions have held strong for thousands of years because they had meaning and worth. In the modern world these teachings still hold true. Our human needs and wants have not changed. Read Marcus Aurelius ‘Meditations’ if you disagree. It was written around 170AD and speaks of the same struggles and daily woes that we have today. Our teachers have changed a little though.

Modern gurus and teachers want to make a living from teaching. Myself included. There are many ways to do this, more so now through the wonders of technology. But this modern sorcery brings with it fierce competition. The online spiritual industry now looks like a walk down an Istanbul marketplace. You quietly enter for a little inner peace only to be jumped upon by thousands of shop owners jangling their shiny trinkets, beckoning you in a little further to purchase their wears.

“The grabbing hands grab all they can
All for themselves, after all
It’s a competitive world
Everything counts in large amounts”
Depeche Mode

This competition and constant need to sell isn’t just limited to the online world. I remember dragging my dad across London to watch a talk by a very well known and popular meditation teacher, only to get there and be sold a book for two hours. My dad never went near a meditation teacher again. When I started out teaching mindfulness to local groups I remember calling another well known and respected teacher in the area, out of courtesy, and asking her if she’d mind me setting up some group courses in the same area of London. To my shock she said that she did mind as this was her turf (in so many words). I didn’t run any courses just in case she sent ‘the boyz’ round to teach me a lesson. (Just kidding on that one). This was about 10 years ago and I remember finding it really disheartening. Naively, I thought meditation teaching was about having a sharing spirit. Aren’t we all working for the same cause anyway? Thankfully I’ve been lucky to meet many other teachers where there have been wonderful exchanges of sharing and kindness.

It turns out that money can lead us all astray. When I started teaching, I started from a place of joy and excitement. I’d found something that really helped me and that I knew could help others. I went into teaching with all my heart, running little groups locally and sessions for kids and parents in schools. All I did was teach exactly what I practised myself and worked through in my own life. Why would I teach anything else?

Well, then a big publisher came along and asked me to record a heap of audio courses on mindfulness. They offered me some good money so I said yes without hesitation. They wanted mindfulness courses for everything. Mindfulness for boredom, mindfulness for sailing a boat, mindfulness for replacing a car battery. You name it. But I struggled to come up with the content. I just found myself coming up with scenarios that fit a chosen topic and then sticking the mindfulness badge on. Yep, I was pretty much making it up.

Suddenly I was supposed to be an expert on mindfulness for relaxation, creativity, confidence, relationships, decision making and so on. I cut my day job down to 4 days a week and worked every Friday in a library, tearing my hair out trying to write scripts. I’d never written scripts for my meditations before. I used to just hit record and speak. I recorded hours and hours of content in the style that they wanted, edited it for months. I spent thousands of pounds getting it all mastered (polished by an audio engineer). But when it was all finished, it didn’t sound like me, it didn’t talk like me and it sure as heck wasn’t really going to help anyone. Not that much anyway. I sounded like a gameshow host and that is what I was. I’d sold my soul for money.

Luckily, I was able to pull out of the contract and none of those courses got released. I knew I had messed up and I had work to do. I went back to study, meditate and try to figure out what I should be teaching and if I should be teaching at all. What came up is that I can only teach what I truly know and that there’s no joy in teaching something you don’t live and breathe. There’s no joy in creating for the sake of fulfilling someone else’s plan for you. And in a world where the truth is so hard to find, the least we can do as spiritual teachers is speak our truth if nothing else. That doesn’t mean being the best teacher, the wisest, the expert or anything else. It just means being real and honest.

In summary, I see nothing wrong with making money from spiritual teaching. I make money from this work and I am grateful for that and for everyone who has helped me to amplify my voice. There is nothing wrong with selling what you create. There is nothing wrong with promoting what you do because you’re passionate about it. Because you believe in it. But if the selling, promoting, creating and profiting comes before your integrity, your authenticity, your wish to help others, ethics, blood, sweat, grit, living what you teach and, of course, love — then we have a problem.

There are two sides to every tale. Business and spirituality are forces that need balance, but I fear that balance is tipping the wrong way. There are many wonderful teachers out there. There are many well meaning teachers who are perhaps not being true to themselves. And then there are some who just want your money and have the gift of the gab and a great marketing strategy. In the same way, there are many wonderful spiritual teaching businesses, some who are well meaning but haven’t quite found their way and some who just want your money.

Overall, teachers and businesses have a responsibility to take time to reflect on whether they’re offering their honest best to those they serve. Especially because many are vulnerable. Many people turn to meditation or a spiritual path when they’re in a fragile place. In fact, it’s no surprise that the spiritual industry is full of trauma amongst teachers and those that follow them. You don’t usually get into teaching unless life has sent you some serious stuff to overcome and many seekers have been through the ringer in one way or another.

There is no regulation for spiritual teaching. Anyone can set up shop. So it takes a community to set an example — the businesses and teachers. So at the very least someone looking for guidance should know that whomever they follow is trustworthy, authentic and has some depth of knowledge and experience in what they teach. Surely, that’s not too much to ask, especially at a time when we need something to hold onto as planet earth goes through some huge challenges. Can some things be kept sacred? Can there be something we can all trust? Can turning a profit also mean taking responsibility for the integrity of what is sold?

I don’t have the answers for all of this but I feel there needs to be a conversation started. Please feel free to share any reflections and thoughts. Agree, disagree or propose another way.

Thank you so much for reading.

With love,

Andy

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