Once occultism conjured images of dimly lit chambers, austere rituals, and initiates genuinely trying to pierce the veil of existence, wandering in their inner underworld, in a long quest to find their true selves and the secrets of the universe. Fast forward to today’s so-called “esoteric revival,” and you’re more likely to find yourself at an overpriced “Euro convention” that’s half TED Talk, garnished with a DJ, craft cocktails, and a handful of mushrooms or joints.
The modern occult scene’s only true magic is the alchemy of transforming gullible “seekers” into repeat-paying customers.
The academic-occult industrial complex
The whole thing is laughably transparent once you step inside. I recently spoke with a friend, an “academic” turned occult world insider, who casually confirmed what was already evident: these groups, societies, and “institutes of esoteric studies” are glorified party planners with a scholarship coating.
It’s all about networking, branding, and selling experiences with an illusion of depth.
Organisations with fancy names might give you the idea of structured teaching, instead, the “curriculum” is a rotating menu of whatever magical system sounds exotic enough to bait the spiritually naïve. One season it’s hoodoo, voodoo, witchcraft, next it’s Thai animism, then some ceremonial hybrid invented last week, or a bit of “secret alchemical technique” with no verifiable lineage. But authenticity is not a requirement, offering something “fresh” for the next batch of unaware attendees is paramount.
Add a sprinkling of academic titles and a speaker list of “well-known names”, or anyone with a vaguely mystical reputation. They churn out lectures that sound profound enough to the untrained ear, and no one bothers to question the content because, well, they paid for it.
Conferences
So, what’s the real experience of these deeply transformative events? A fancy historical hall rented for the day.
Lectures that would sound credible even if they never experienced a true spiritual system. Social mingling dressed up as “networking with like-minded souls” or “sacred community.”
Overpriced workshops on mystical-sounding topics. And then the inevitable afterparty, the true ritual of modern occultism.
Out come the DJs, the joints (sometimes laced with more than “just weed”), the psychedelics, the casual hookups masquerading as “tantric exploration.” It’s all very polished and Instagrammable. For a moment, everyone feels like they’re part of an exclusive magical underground when really, it’s just another shallow scene of people drinking, getting high, and pretending it’s “spiritual practice.”
This is the new occult renaissance, where capitalism and cosplay meet a faint whiff of incense.
Even the most unremarkable muggle can claim a “deep mystical experience” and they have “touched the beyond” after a well-laced joint, ayahuasca, a hit of LSD, a tab of mescaline, DMT, or a glass of peyote brew. They’ll swear they met a deity, merged with the cosmos, or unlocked some sacred gnosis until the next morning when the hangover of reality sets in.
Try having a “divine experience” without the chemical crutch or sitting in silence, performing regular rituals and practices that force you beyond your limits, resistance, unconscious patterns, and see what happens. Most can’t. And that’s the point they’re not there for real work. They’re there for the cool titles, the sensation of magic, not the reality of it.
Why it works
My question is: why do people fall for this glittering circus?
One answer is that because most attendees aren’t real seekers. They’re spiritual tourists. They want a curated community that feels edgy, story to tell about how “enlightening” their weekend was, the thrill of dip into mystery without the inconvenience of inner work.
The organisers know it. It sells. Sprinkle in a few well-known names, hint at secret initiations, add some dubious “lineage claims,” and you have a product.
The Western esoteric scene has become a mystical marketplace. It may all sound authentic enough to the uninitiated. And because these people are paying for an illusion, no one dares break the spell by asking tough questions.
My source said that when they speak at these events they are politely clapped and given glowing compliments even after “talking total bullshit.”
The Exotic Trap
Perhaps the most cynical part is the fetishisation of exotic traditions. Western groups love to slap “authenticity” onto their shallow offerings by borrowing from cultures they barely understand diluted and packaged for Western consumption. Who cares if the lineage is bogus, teachings are made up, compatible, or even properly understood?
It’s about selling something “new” for the next workshop cycle. A spiritual buffet for those who think “diversity” equals enlightenment.
A clever technique is to have a slickly marketed group which acts as a front for other money-spinning activities. They usually try to rope in customers by claiming expertise in a chosen field. However, when looked at objectively, there are many holes in the practice. For example, there is one person “on the circuit” who claimed he had Whare Ra lineage. Fortunately, we know all the people who have that, and he is not one of them. Later this same person tried to join MOAA if we acknowledged him as a 7=4 and made him a chief. We told him to “go forth and multiply.” In Italy, one trick is to claim lineage from Italian witches as if such a thing existed in a nicely packaged format complete with a certificate. (Italian witchcraft does exist and it is mostly Christian and family traditions rather than something you can train in).
If these groups are so hollow and misleading, why does the universe allow them to exist?. Perhaps because they serve a hidden function. They are filters and distractions, catching those who are not yet ready for the real work. The numbers of people who appear ready for training is legion, but after a couple of initiations and at the first sign of difficulty they leave in search of the next shiny object. Maybe the universe is saving real groups the time and effort of initiating those who want an “eyes wide shut” experience with drinks, drugs and sausages-on-sticks to follow.
They offer the illusion of progress to those who still crave shortcuts, comfort, and spectacle. The false temples exist so that only the few who can see beyond the glitter will seek what is true. In that sense, they are necessary stepping stones or dead ends, depending on one’s capacity for discernment.
Some choose them unconsciously, to keep their ego safe. Joining a hollow system means never having to confront the real shadow work that strips away identity and comfort. It offers the appearance of depth without the discomfort of genuine transformation.
In such spaces, your beliefs are never challenged, illusions remain intact, and spiritual vanity is constantly fed. For those terrified of true change, the shiny fake world is a perfect refuge, it lets them play the role of “seeker” without ever risking their ego.
What about true seekers who want to do the work, adventure in an initiatory path that transforms rather than entertains?
They come into this world hungry for meaning, and instead they’re fed psychedelic escapism, endless superficial socialising, and the false glamour of “exclusive” groups. Without discernment, the risk is to leave more confused, disenchanted and often financially and spiritually poorer.
Meanwhile, the real, lonely, slow, unglamorous work of inner transformation, uncomfortable stripping away of illusions, instead of feeding the ego, remains ignored by the most.
Rock bottom has a DJ
The modern magical scene has reached rock bottom and apparently decided to throw a party there. Instead of initiates, we have influencers. Instead of teachers, we have salesmen.
These groups will keep thriving, not because they’re magically powerful, but because most people prefer the illusion of depth over the reality of transformation.
This phenomenon in the occult world is not isolated, it reflects a much wider condition in contemporary society. We live in an age where everything is made easily accessible, stripped of challenge, and repackaged for instant consumption. Education is reduced to degrees earned with minimal effort, spiritual teachings are compressed into catchy memes, and the internet has made even the rarest knowledge available without the discipline and respect once required to earn it. But easy access dilutes value. The modern occult scene mirrors the larger cultural disease, and its attraction for a fashionable packaging, easy entry, no real trials, no true initiations, just an illusion sold to those who can’t tell the difference.
I’m not claiming that all esoteric conventions are a complete waste of time, but they require careful discernment. When I was younger, I had my share of disappointing experiences, nothing unusual for someone starting out, but I quickly recognised the red flags and walked away. In my personal path within the Golden Dawn tradition, I consider myself extremely fortunate. I could have easily ended up in the wrong group, and that might have damaged my trust and willingness to continue the work in that direction.
A fair question for anyone approaching the esoteric world is: how do I recognise if someone is genuine or just selling empty words wrapped in mystical language? The truth is that those who have done the real work rarely sell themselves easily. They don’t flatter your ego with promises of quick results. Their path feels demanding, not convenient, and they will likely ask you to unlearn more than you learn. A genuine teacher or system will leave you with more questions than answers, and their work will feel often painfully transformative rather than theatrically “magical.” While anyone who promises instant empowerment, markets their lineage like a product, or constantly needs to be seen and praised in social circles is giving you performance, not initiation. Real depth is quiet, slow, and uncomfortable; emptiness is loud, fast, and easy.
So, don’t look for magic in the marketplace. Be careful when it comes to glittery shallow worlds and fancy locations, “scholars” whose main skill is delivering academic jargon with no direct experience into a magical system and the “exclusive societies” that feed you endless exotic systems like a new fashionable pair of shoes while promising enlightenment.
If what you’re offered looks like sex, drugs, networking, and a DJ set, know that you’re not being invited into a discovery of the secrets of the universe but a marketing funnel.
Real magic is quieter, harder, less glamorous. It doesn’t need hashtags or afterparties.
May the occult celebrities, mystical event organisers and academic magicians propping up this radiant abyss enjoy their empire of illusions. It may sell well, but it leads nowhere, especially after the psychedelic haze clears, the DJ packs up and all that remains is you and your shit to sort out.
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