(Return conversation with Severin Sindermann (our last talk is here)
This podcast was taken down by substack, due to the guest’s complaining that it was “a copyright infringement.” After it aired, “SS” (Sindre) received pressure from the spiritual teacher he follows (whom I also spent many years with), and from other members of that group. Even though he was using a pseudonym, they convinced Sindre he was “compromised” by the podcast (by talking about the Jewish question and doubting the historical accuracy of the “Holocaust”), and by extension, had compromised the group.
Ironically, the spiritual teacher and his group strongly advocate open, honest, vulnerable expression as being essential to reconnecting to one’s soul. Apparently, this only extends to some things, however, and not to others.
After a two-hour talk on Skype, Sindre decided that he was happy with the podcast and that it should remain up regardess of what the others were saying to him. A few days later, however, after an online meeting or two with the group, he changed his mind again.
I offered him the chance to edit it, but he ignored my offer. I agreed to put the whole thing behind the Paywall, but this was still not enough. We discussed it for several weeks but got nowhere: Sindre ignored all my suggestions, and many of my questions, and returned over and over to his request, without offering any credible reasons for his fear.
It seemed to me that Sindre’s anxiety was not so much to do with any actual danger the podcast presented, but his fear of being ostracized by the group and his desire to please the spiritual teacher. It was ironic, because the subject of the offending podcast—as much as or more than the Jews or the Holocaust—was the risks, perils, and pitfalls of talking about certain things. Now the dangers had manifested, and it seemed paramount to face the challenge presented, not to back down at the first sign of group pressure.
Sindre had looked into these subjects for twenty years and talked privately about them for perhaps as long. Now suddenly, he was in a crisis because he had gone public (anonymously) and received some pushback from a handful of people. Naturally, his crisis (the emotional charge of the group and the pressure they were applying to Sindre) passed on to me, causing niggling uncertainty and low-level, simmering anxiety.
Sindre had been pressured to change his mind and given in to the pressure. To me, this didn’t mean he was more “soul-oriented” than when he had agreed, only more anxious. I was hoping he would stand up for himself and realize that he was worrying about nothing.
Sindre’s spoken concern was that someone, someday, would hear the podcast at his workplace, and he would lose his job. Yet no one would be able to listen to it without paying to subscribe. Sindre then admitted he was afraid someone in the spirtual group might gain access to the audio, and send it to his workplace. I asked if he thought anyone in the group would be that vindictive. Did that sound like an open-minded, caring community to him? He didn’t answer.
Another of Sindre’s concerns was that “This will be one of [the spiritual teacher’s] stories he will share frequently to newcomers.” I asked if this squared with the teacher’s supposed concern for his welfare, or his claim that Sindre had compromised himself with the podcast? If the ST truly believed that, why would he try and make sure more people knew about it?
My sense was that the ST was trying to push Sindre into some sort of crisis, and that it was having the effect of turning him against me, the group “boogeyman” (in Sindre’s phrase). I told Sindre I was not willing to be complicit with such a “strategy of tension.”
Sindre had told me in our post-podcast conversation that I was “the group boogyman,” ever since I had been canceled from the summer 2023 retreat (for no obvious reason). He now qualified this: he didn’t mean that everyone in the group was against me, necessarily, but that my refusal to remove the podcast had “cemented [me] as an untrustworthy individual.”
Sindre seemed confused as to whether he wanted the podcast taken down because of a genuine fear of being “compromised,” or because he didn’t think he sounded erudite enough (my “Beavis and Butthead” comment may have annoyed him). Since he wasn’t concurring with any of my points, I asked him a series of questions:
A poor review or two is par for the course; you knew the risks when you agreed? Do you take any responsibility for your evident lack of foresight? If I took down every podcast because guests didn’t like the feedback they got, would that strike you as a sensible or serious policy for a public media figure? What about integrity and transparency of journalism?
Do you agree that there is no risk of the podcast being online (behind a paywall), except for the fact that [spiritual teacher] is telling people in the group about it, who you fear might be vindictive? If you don’t agree, please explain to me the risk you perceive.
Do you agree that your fear of seeming stupid is a separate issue entirely to that of your being “compromised,” and that raising them both alternatively sends out a mixed and confusing message?
Do you no longer believe the things you said on the podcast? If you believe them still, are you willing to recant at the first whiff of peer pressure?
My wife thinks you just need to grow a set of bollocks, and that’s really what I’ve been waiting to happen; waiting in vain, as the song goes. In the meantime, can you see that my being “untrustworthy” in some people’s eyes might be a form of personal integrity for me, as well as a desire to stand firm in your soul’s corner, for as long as it takes?
You have thrice approved the podcast, once during it, once after, and once again when we spoke about this the first time.
If, as you said in the podcast, you can go to jail for saying it’s OK to be white, then what’s the point in trying not to commit “hate crimes” or offend the wrong people?
The problem is your lack of seriousness about this: you are staring at an imaginary storm in your teacup, while the real tsunami is carrying your house away.
Sindre responded that he still believed the things he had said on the podcast and that he would state the same if he were asked (at the spiritual retreat which he hopes to attend this summer, “where the pressure to follow the group is the highest”). He didn’t think it was worth having the podcast up, however, because he had chosen a quiet life, not a dissident’s life.
I didn’t reply for a few days. It occurred to me that I could suggest he edit the recording, using a voice distorter; I suspected this wouldn’t satisfy him either. By now, it felt as though this was mostly about getting me to bend to Sindre’s “iron will,” just as the group was trying to get him to bend to theirs.
A few more days went by and I received an email from Substack, saying the post had been taken down due to “copyright infringement,” and that I could counter the charges if I wanted. I chose not to bother, even though I knew Sindre wouldn’t back his claim with a lawsuit.
Today, while looking at my dashboard, I saw the podcast had simply been moved to my drafts, and I decided to put this up in its place.
(The now censored talk was on WW2 revisionism, the JQ, skapegoating Adolf, radicalized researchers, the many pitfalls of revisionism, and other verboten topics. Listening back, I was tempted to call this podcast “Beavis and Butthead Talk About the Jews,” but I thought that’d be unfair to me and my guest, two guys trying to grapple with a subject that is disproportionately hard to talk about, precisely because talking about it has been strategically prohibited.)
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