Secular Step Two

THE moment they encounter Step Two, most newcomers to secular recovery face a fundamental challenge. How often have we heard them say, "Look what you've done to us! You've convinced us that we can't control alcohol through willpower alone—that our individual efforts have consistently failed. Having shown us the limits of self-reliance, you now suggest that something beyond our personal control can help us. Some of us have never believed in higher powers, others have lost faith in such concepts, and still others who believe in various forms of guidance have no confidence it will work for this particular problem. Yes, you've presented us with our limitations—but where do we go from here?"

Let's look first at the case of the person who says they won't believe in anything beyond individual capability—the determined rationalist. They often feel their entire worldview is under attack. It's difficult enough, they think, to admit that alcohol has defeated their best efforts. But now, still reeling from that acknowledgment, they're being asked to consider something that seems to contradict their fundamental beliefs about human agency and rational problem-solving. How they treasure the conviction that human beings, through reason and individual effort, can solve any problem they encounter! Must they abandon this framework to recover?

The Sponsor's Response

At this point, their recovery guide usually smiles knowingly. This, the newcomer thinks, is adding insult to injury. This seems like the end of any hope for help. And in a way it is: the end of their old approaches, and the beginning of their emergence into something more effective. Their sponsor probably says, "Take it easy. The door you need to walk through is much wider than you imagine. At least I've found it so. So did a friend of mine who was a committed materialist and former philosophy professor, but she found a way through that worked perfectly well for her secular worldview."

"Well," says the newcomer, "I believe you're being honest with me. It's obviously true that many people in recovery once thought as I do. But exactly how, in these circumstances, does someone 'take it easy'? That's what I need to understand."

"That," agrees the sponsor, "is precisely the right question. I think I can show you exactly how to relax about this. You won't have to work very hard at it, either. Listen to three key points. First, secular recovery doesn't demand that you believe anything supernatural. All suggestions are simply that—suggestions to test against your experience. Second, to get sober and stay sober, you don't have to swallow all of Step Two immediately. Looking back, I took it piece by piece myself. Third, all you really need is genuine openness to evidence. Just step away from the debate society and stop worrying about ultimate philosophical questions. Again I say, all you need is openness to what actually works."

The Scientific Approach

The sponsor continues, "Take my own case as an example. I had scientific training. Naturally I respected evidence, valued peer review, and believed in testing hypotheses. As a matter of fact, I still do—I just apply these principles more consistently now. Time after time, my professors emphasized the foundation of all genuine inquiry: hypothesis formation, testing, and revision, always with openness to results that challenge our preconceptions. When I first encountered recovery communities, my reaction was just like yours. This recovery business, I thought, seems completely unscientific. This I cannot accept. I simply won't consider such fuzzy thinking.

"Then I had to face facts. I had to admit that these approaches showed measurable results—remarkable, consistent results. I saw that my attitude regarding the evidence had been anything but scientific. It wasn't recovery that had the closed mind; it was me. The moment I stopped arguing with the data, I could begin to observe and learn. Right there, Step Two gradually began to work in my life. I can't point to a specific day when I came to believe in guidance greater than my isolated will, but I certainly have that experience now. To develop it, I only had to stop fighting the evidence and practice the rest of recovery's suggested actions as carefully as I could.

"This is just one person's perspective based on their experience, of course. I should quickly tell you that people in secular recovery follow countless different paths in developing this trust. If the approach I've described doesn't appeal to you, you'll certainly discover one that fits better if you remain open and observant. Many people like you have begun by treating the recovery community itself as their 'guidance greater than individual will.' Here's a large group of people who have solved their alcohol problem. In this specific area, they certainly represent knowledge and experience greater than yours, since you haven't come close to a lasting solution. Surely you can trust their collective wisdom in this domain. Even this minimal starting point will be sufficient. You'll find many people who began exactly this way. All of them will tell you that once they started, their trust broadened and deepened. Freed from alcohol's domination, their lives measurably improved, and they came to believe in various forms of guidance beyond isolated individual effort."

Those Who Have Lost Faith

Consider next the situation of those who once had faith in higher powers or guiding principles, but have lost that trust. There will be those who have drifted into indifference, those filled with self-sufficiency who have isolated themselves, those who have become prejudiced against any form of spiritual or communal guidance, and those who are frankly defiant because life has failed to meet their expectations. Can secular recovery offer all these people a workable form of trust?

Sometimes recovery comes harder to those who have lost or rejected previous beliefs than to those who never held strong convictions, because they feel they have tested faith and found it lacking. They have tried believing and tried not believing. Since both approaches have proved disappointing, they conclude there is nowhere left to turn. The barriers of indifference, assumed self-sufficiency, prejudice, and defiance often prove more solid for these people than obstacles faced by those who never had strong beliefs in either direction. Traditional religion claims the existence of divine guidance can be proven; skeptics say it cannot be proven; and atheists argue for proof of non-existence. Obviously, the dilemma of the disillusioned person is profound confusion. They consider themselves lost to any form of reliable conviction. They cannot achieve the confidence of the believer, the clarity of the agnostic, or the certainty of the atheist. They are genuinely bewildered.

Many people in secular recovery can say to such wanderers, "Yes, we too became disconnected from beliefs that once sustained us. Youthful overconfidence was too much for us to handle wisely. Of course, we remained grateful that good upbringing and ethical training had given us certain values. We still believed we should be reasonably honest, tolerant, and fair, that we should work hard and treat others decently. We became convinced that such basic principles of good conduct would be sufficient.

"As external success based on nothing more than these ordinary qualities began to come our way, we felt we were succeeding at life. This was energizing, and it made us happy. Why should we concern ourselves with abstract philosophical questions or complex ethical systems, or worry about the ultimate meaning of our existence? The here and now seemed quite adequate. Individual determination would carry us through. But then alcohol began to dominate our decision-making. Finally, when all our scorecards showed failure, and we realized that one more major mistake might end everything, we had to look for guidance we had dismissed. It was in recovery communities that we rediscovered it. And so can you."

The Intellectually Self-Sufficient

Now we come to another type of challenge: the person who feels intellectually self-sufficient. To these individuals, many in recovery can say, "Yes, we were exactly like you—far too impressed with our own intelligence for our own good. We enjoyed being called sharp, insightful, analytical. We used our education and quick thinking to build impressive intellectual personas, though we were careful not to let others see our pride too clearly. Privately, we felt we could rise above common problems through pure brainpower. Scientific and technological progress seemed to prove there was nothing human intelligence couldn't eventually solve. Knowledge was power. Rational analysis could master any challenge. Since we were smarter than most people (so we assumed), victory would be ours through superior thinking. The god of intellect had replaced any other form of guidance. But alcohol had different plans entirely. We who had succeeded so brilliantly in intellectual pursuits became spectacular failures at controlling our drinking. We saw that we had to reconsider our entire approach or face destruction. We found many in recovery who once thought exactly as we did. They helped us find our appropriate place in the world. Through their example they showed us that intellectual humility and sharp thinking could coexist beautifully, provided we put humility first. When we began to do that, we received the gift of trust in guidance beyond our individual reasoning, and this trust actually worked. This same trust is available to you."

Those Disgusted with Traditional Approaches

Another group in recovery says: "We were thoroughly disgusted with organized religion and all its manifestations. Traditional religious texts, we said, were full of contradictions; we could cite them chapter and verse, and we couldn't see wisdom for all the archaic language and cultural baggage. In some places the morality seemed impossibly demanding; in others it appeared impossibly primitive. But it was the behavior of religious people themselves that really disturbed us. We focused obsessively on the hypocrisy, narrow-mindedness, and self-righteousness that seemed to characterize so many 'believers' even in their best moments. How we loved to point out the destructive fact that millions of 'good religious people' were still harming one another in the name of their beliefs. This all meant, of course, that we had substituted cynicism for curiosity. After we came to recovery, we had to recognize that this attitude had been primarily about feeding our egos. In attacking the failures of some religious people, we could feel superior to all of them. Moreover, we could avoid examining some of our own character defects. Self-righteousness, the very quality we had mockingly condemned in others, was our own worst problem. This false form of superiority had destroyed our ability to find any meaningful guidance. But finally, driven to recovery, we learned better approaches."

The Defiant Ones

"As counselors and therapists have often observed, defiance is a prominent characteristic of many people with alcohol problems. So it's not surprising that many of us have spent considerable energy defying various forms of authority and guidance. Sometimes it's because life has not delivered the good things we specified, like demanding children making impossible lists of what they want. More often, though, we had encountered major disappointments, and felt abandoned by whatever forces we thought should protect us. The relationship we wanted didn't work out; we hoped desperately that circumstances would change, but they didn't. We wanted healthy, successful lives, and instead faced illness, setbacks, or isolation. We worked for career advancement, but it never came. People we depended on were taken from us by illness, accident, or their own choices. Then we became problem drinkers, and expected that sincere desire to stop would be enough. But nothing changed. This felt like the cruelest disappointment of all. 'To hell with trusting anything beyond myself!' we declared.

"When we encountered recovery communities, the flaws in our defiant attitude became clear. At no time had we asked what guidance might be available to us; instead we had been dictating what that guidance ought to provide. No one, we learned, could simultaneously trust in guidance and defy it. Trust meant reliance, not demands. In recovery we saw the fruits of this trust: people spared from alcohol's final destruction. We saw them meet and transcend other disappointments and difficulties. We saw them calmly accept challenging situations, seeking neither to escape nor to rage against them. This was not just faith; it was trust that worked under all conditions. We quickly concluded that whatever price in humility we had to pay, we would pay it."

The Religious Person Still Drinking

Now let's consider the person full of faith, but still unable to stop drinking. They believe they are spiritually committed. Their religious observance is careful and regular. They're sure they still believe in divine guidance, but suspect that divine guidance has given up on them. They make promises and more promises. Following each commitment, they not only drink again, but behave worse than before. Courageously they try to fight alcohol, asking for spiritual help, but the help doesn't seem to come. What, then, could be wrong?

To counselors, doctors, friends, and families, the sincere person who tries hard but continues drinking is a heartbreaking puzzle. To most people in recovery, they are not puzzling at all. Too many of us have been exactly in their position, and have found the answer. This answer has to do with the quality of trust rather than its intensity. This had been our blind spot. We assumed we had humility when really we had not developed it. We assumed we had been serious about spiritual practices when, upon honest examination, we found we had been only going through motions. Or, going to the other extreme, we had wallowed in emotional displays and mistaken them for genuine spiritual experience. In both cases, we had been expecting something for nothing. The fact was we really had not done the practical work necessary for spiritual principles to be effective in our lives. In no deep or meaningful sense had we ever honestly assessed ourselves, made repairs to relationships we had damaged, or freely given to other people without expecting reward. We had not even approached prayer or meditation correctly. We had always said, "Give me what I want" instead of "Show me what I need to do." The love of our higher power and of our fellow human beings we understood not at all. Therefore we remained self-deceived, and so incapable of receiving enough guidance to restore us to sanity.

The Question of Sanity

Few people actively drinking have any clear idea how irrational their behavior has become, or, recognizing some irrationality, can bear to face its full extent. Some will be willing to call themselves "problem drinkers," but cannot tolerate the suggestion that their thinking has become fundamentally unsound. They are supported in this blindness by a society that does not understand the difference between normal drinking and compulsive drinking. "Sanity" means "soundness of mind." Yet no person with drinking problems, honestly analyzing their destructive behavior, whether that destruction affected their physical health, their relationships, their work, or their moral character, can claim "soundness of mind" during their drinking periods.

Therefore, Step Two is the rallying point for all of us. Whether skeptic, former believer, or current practitioner of various faiths, we can stand together on this Step. True openness and willingness to test new approaches can lead us to workable trust, and every recovery meeting demonstrates that guidance greater than isolated individual will can restore us to sanity if we relate ourselves appropriately to it.

Practical Applications of Step Two

For those preferring evidence-based approaches, Step Two translates into concrete practices. We can trust in the accumulated wisdom of people who have successfully stopped drinking. We can rely on therapeutic techniques that have demonstrated effectiveness. We can depend on medication when medically appropriate. We can have confidence in the power of routine, community support, and values-based decision-making.

The "guidance greater than ourselves" might be the recovery community's collective experience, the structure of a well-designed treatment program, the wisdom embedded in cognitive-behavioral therapy techniques, or simply the effectiveness of having a planned response to craving instead of improvising in the moment when our judgment is compromised.

We begin to trust that when we follow certain actions—attending meetings, being honest about our struggles, following through on commitments, practicing healthy routines, staying connected to supportive people—we get predictable results. This isn't mystical; it's empirical. We're trusting in what can be observed and verified: these approaches work for people who work them.

Building Trust Through Experience

Step Two trust develops gradually through accumulated evidence. We start with small experiments: attending one meeting, making one phone call, following one suggestion we wouldn't normally consider. We observe the results without trying to control them or interpret them according to our preconceptions.

Many of us discovered that our resistance to "depending on something greater than ourselves" was actually resistance to depending on anything beyond our immediate control and understanding. But we were already depending on countless things we didn't fully understand: the effectiveness of medications, the safety of transportation systems, the reliability of food supply chains, the functioning of complex technologies.

Step Two simply extends this rational trust to the domain of alcohol recovery. We don't need to understand exactly why certain practices work; we only need to observe that they do work, consistently, for people who apply them consistently.

The Community as Higher Power

For many in secular recovery, the community itself becomes the "power greater than ourselves." Not because the group is mystically powerful, but because the group possesses knowledge, experience, and perspective that we individually lack. The community has solved the problem we cannot solve alone.

This community power manifests in practical ways: shared strategies for handling difficult situations, accountability that helps us follow through on commitments, encouragement during challenging periods, and reality-checking when our thinking becomes distorted. The group can often see patterns in our behavior that we cannot see ourselves, and can offer suggestions based on what has worked for others in similar circumstances.

We learn to borrow the group's confidence when our own confidence wavers. We use the group's memory of our progress when we can't remember how far we've come. We accept the group's hope for our future when we can't generate hope ourselves.

Sanity as Practical Soundness

"Restored to sanity" in secular terms means restored to practical soundness of thinking and behavior around alcohol and related life areas. It means our actions consistently align with our stated values and long-term interests. It means we can make decisions based on evidence rather than wishful thinking.

Sanity in recovery looks like: keeping commitments we make to ourselves and others, responding to problems with appropriate action rather than avoidance, treating our bodies and minds with basic care and respect, maintaining relationships through consistent honesty rather than crisis management, and making choices based on likely consequences rather than immediate impulses.

This restoration happens gradually as we practice new patterns of thinking and behaving. We don't wait until we feel completely sane to act sanely; we act sanely and gradually begin to feel more centered and clearheaded.

Daily Practice of Step Two

Step Two becomes a daily practice of choosing guidance over isolation. Each morning we can remind ourselves that we don't need to figure everything out alone. We can seek input from people we trust, follow structured approaches that have proven effective, and make decisions based on our core values rather than momentary emotions.

When facing challenges, instead of immediately trying to solve them through individual effort, we can pause and ask: What guidance is available to me? Who has faced similar challenges successfully? What approaches have worked for others? What do my values suggest I should do?

This daily practice keeps Step Two alive as an ongoing choice rather than a one-time decision. We're not just people who once admitted needing guidance; we're people who continue choosing connection over isolation, proven approaches over improvisation, and evidence over wishful thinking.

Step Two as Foundation for Action

Step Two prepares us for the action steps that follow. We cannot effectively work on character defects, make amends, or help others if we're still insisting on handling everything through individual willpower alone. Step Two establishes our willingness to accept help, follow suggestions, and trust in approaches that are larger than our personal preferences and strategies.

This trust becomes the foundation for all subsequent growth. Whether we call our guidance "God," "the group," "evidence-based practices," or "life's inherent wisdom," we have acknowledged that reliable help exists beyond our isolated individual efforts. From this acknowledgment, real change becomes possible.

Conclusion

Step Two offers everyone—skeptics, former believers, and current practitioners of various faiths—a way forward that respects their background while opening the door to effective help. The step asks not for blind faith, but for openness to evidence. It suggests not dependence on the unknown, but trust in what can be observed and verified.

Whether we understand this guidance in spiritual terms or purely practical ones, the result is the same: we find that we are not alone, that effective help is available, and that our lives can be restored to sanity through our willingness to accept and act on guidance that comes from beyond our individual understanding and effort.

This is Step Two in action: the daily choice to remain open to help, to test what works, and to let results rather than preconceptions guide our decisions. Through this openness, we are indeed restored to sanity—not through miraculous intervention, but through the accumulated wisdom of people who have walked this path before us, and through our willingness to walk it with them.