While watching Candace Owens respond publicly to the murder of Charlie Kirk, it felt like a mask was coming off. There had been glimpses before here and there of what was underneath the mask, but with Charlie Kirk’s public assassination, something shifted, and a more distorted version of Candace Owens was being revealed.
As she presented increasingly wild theories and accusations about who she thought killed Charlie Kirk, seemingly out of nowhere, Jim Jones came to mind.
Yes, that Jim Jones. The cult leader who led more than nine hundred of his followers to their deaths in 1978.
Clearly, Jim Jones didn’t come to mind because of what he ultimately did, because, of course, Candace Owens isn’t responsible for anything comparable. Jim Jones coming to mind has nothing to do with the deaths of his followers. But there’s a recognizable set of behavioral patterns in Jim Jones that I recognize in Candace. And there’s a similar leader-follower dynamic.
Patterns matter because they often reveal what’s happening long before the full outcome unfolds. Again, the situations are different, and I’m not suggesting a demise like that of Jim Jones’ followers, but the patterns are hard to ignore.
What stood out wasn’t just how confidently Candace made claims and accusations about Charlie Kirk’s murder that lacked logic or evidence, but even more, how her followers unquestioningly accepted them. The more far-fetched the claims, the more they were embraced.
I’d often wondered what made people follow Jim Jones so blindly, ignoring red flags along the way. So many years later, I’m wondering the same thing about Candace Owens’ followers.
The patterns seem eerily similar.
That thought stayed with me as I continued to see how easily Candace’s followers believed her claims about Charlie Kirk’s murder; how they clung to her every word, how they abandoned their own logic and reason in exchange for grand conspiracies.
Much of this I attribute to the conspiracy addicted world we live in today. But the other part is deeper and just as concerning. It’s the pull of a confident, charismatic voice that people start trusting more than their own judgment.
Without followers, this type of person is simply a charismatic person. With devoted followers, however, they’re what I call a cult personality.
What Is A Cult Personality?
The common phrase is cult of personality, which describes the system of loyalty built around a cult type leader. But because I’m focusing on the person who creates that system, I call it a cult personality.
By cult personality, I mean a person whose influence becomes so strong to the point that followers no longer question them but trust them enough to believe whatever they say or do.
Crimes, violence, or extreme outcomes aren’t what define a cult personality, although it wasn’t until Jim Jones’ followers ended up dead that he became known worldwide. It’s really about how the leader’s influence is used.
A cult leader tends to position themselves as someone who is uniquely insightful or chosen. They seemingly have answers and solutions that no one else has. They want loyalty from their followers, not discernment, especially when that discernment challenges their narratives. Doubt (towards them or what they say and do) is seen as betrayal.
Most of these leaders crave admiration and special status. The more their followers praise and defend them, the stronger that cult personality becomes.
These leaders gain power as their followers suspend critical thinking and logic to support everything they say or do.
Cult Leaders Don’t Start As Villains
Jim Jones didn’t start as a monster. Most cult leaders probably don’t.
Equality and community are what Jim Jones preached in the 1950s when he started his church two decades before he called for the tragic deaths of his followers. He was a White man, specifically reaching out to Black Americans. And he wasn’t all talk. He was heavily involved in the civil rights movement, and he and his wife adopted children across racial lines when it was practically unheard of. Many saw him as courageous and heroic. People saw in Jim Jones and his church a representation of what a caring world should be.
Candace Owens rose to prominence when many Americans, particularly White conservatives, felt frustrated with mainstream media and political narratives. She was bold and spoke with confidence about culture, race, and personal responsibility, and many found her messaging necessary. She was seen as someone who could bring huge change in the political and social world.
As a young Black conservative woman willing to challenge dominant viewpoints, Candace Owens quickly stood out. She encouraged Black Americans to leave the Democratic Party, what she often referred to as the Democratic Plantation. She spoke out about the danger of gangster rap culture. She was anti-liberal and promoted conservative values. Candace represented boldness, independence, and a willingness to say what White conservatives wouldn’t or couldn’t say out loud, specifically when it came to race.
There’s undoubtedly a point where things start to shift for both Jim Jones and Candace Owens.
With Jim Jones, I don’t know exactly when that shift happened because I wasn’t watching it in real time, but clearly a shift took place. He began with what seemed like well meaning intentions, yet over time something changed, and his leadership took a much darker turn.
In the documentary Jonestown: Terror In The Jungle, one of the cult survivors said of Jim Jones, “The more powerful he became the sicker he got.” He craved power and relevance, but the more influence he gained over his committed followers, the more distorted he became.
With Candace Owens, it seems the same pattern is happening.
After leaving The Daily Wire and building an even larger platform on her own, backed by deeply committed followers, her rhetoric became more extreme, more conspiratorial, and more hostile. And after Charlie Kirk’s murder, the shift became much harder to ignore. She seems to be moving towards a place where the line between what she knows and doesn’t know no longer matters. Her messaging has become much more distorted.
Like Jim Jones, it seems the more her followers validate her, the more distorted she becomes. And just as Jim Jones’ followers didn’t recognize the shift in him as a red flag, many of Candace Owens’ followers don’t seem to see it either.
Blind Loyalty Is The Defining Feature
A cult isn’t defined by having followers. It’s defined by having followers who follow blindly.
There’s nothing wrong with being a dynamic leader and having followers. Healthy leaders inspire growth, welcome questions, and encourage people to think for themselves, not simply fall in line with their narrative.
Once Jim Jones’ followers felt connected not just to his message but to him personally, many stopped using their own judgment and common sense. They trusted him. And when warning signs began to appear, loyal followers ignored the red flags or were no longer able to identify them as red flags.
By the time Jim Jones started calling himself the messiah and claiming to heal sick people, his followers didn’t question it because of their trust in him and their emotional connection to him.
In the documentary, Jim Jones cult survivors tell how the healings were staged. They, as well as all the other followers, were too emotionally invested to question what they were seeing. They believed it even though it was fake. They practically accepted anything Jim Jones said and did because of the strong connection they formed with him.
Their loyalty replaced discernment.
A similar pattern can be seen by Candace Owens’ followers in her response to Charlie Kirk’s murder.
Candace rejected the police and FBI narrative almost immediately and suggested elaborate theories about the assassination. She accused Charlie’s friends, people at Charlie’s organization, and even his wife of having sinister motives towards Charlie.
Instead of questioning those claims, her devoted followers accepted them. Because Candace was saying it, it must be true.
When Candace Owens said she was Charlie’s only true friend and that those in his inner circle were all fake and possibly connected to his murder, her audience didn’t question it because they were emotionally invested and trusted her.
This kind of loyalty doesn’t happen overnight. It builds over time. When people listen to a trusted voice day after day, a relationship forms. Eventually that trust can grow so strong that followers stop evaluating what they hear. The voice of the leader becomes enough.
That’s the power of a cult personality.
But a person isn’t a cult personality unless they wield enough influence to draw people in. Without followers, there is no cult leader. There’s also no cult leader without people who follow without question.
Why People Follow Without Question
Most people assume cult followers are simply foolish or weak-minded. And from the outside, that’s what it looks like. But I think what most cult followers want is certainty when the world feels chaotic. So they turn to someone who sounds confident and assured, someone willing to challenge the systems they no longer trust.
When you step back and look at it, several reasons can explain why followers stop questioning.
First, there’s trust in the leader. When someone listens to a public voice often enough, a connection forms. Over time, that voice becomes familiar and trustworthy. Followers believe the person is credible, truthful, and knowledgeable. And in the beginning, that may have been true. But as time goes on , instead of evaluating every new claim, followers eventually trust the person enough to assume that what they say must be correct even if it’s not.
Second, there’s the deep distrust of institutions. Many followers already believe the government, the media, or other authorities can’t be trusted. And it makes sense because governments sometimes lie, and the media can be manipulative. So when a trusted voice challenges those institutions, followers are ready to believe the alternative, sometimes no matter how unreasonable it sounds, instead of doing the work to figure out what’s actually true.
Emotion also plays a huge role. Because most cult personalities lead with emotion, followers can feel a personal connection to the leader. They admire them. They feel understood by them and even feel represented by them. Over time, admiration turns into loyalty, and loyalty makes it harder to question them, even when what they’re saying doesn’t fully make sense. Followers can be so emotionally invested that they can often deify the leader and refuse to believe anything negative about them.
As one survivor said in the documentary Jonestown: Terror in the Jungle:
“Jim…had this way of really reaching into your emotions.”
And then there’s the power of community. When followers gather in comment sections of a podcast and social media threads, they reinforce one another. In Jim Jones’ case, it was church gatherings and eventually life in a commune. If everyone around them is affirming the same belief, it becomes easier to accept it as truth. Doubt becomes uncomfortable, and agreement becomes the norm.
When trust in the leader, distrust of outside institutions, emotional connection, and group reinforcement all come together, it becomes much easier for followers to accept what they’re told without question.
That’s what happened with Jim Jones and his followers. That’s what’s happening with Candace Owens and her loyal followers.
But there’s another layer that can make the leader’s influence even stronger.
When Authority Is Spiritual
When followers see a leader as spiritually aligned or appointed, they begin to view that person as having a special connection to God, and they trust them even more. Some may even believe that by staying connected to that person, it places them in alignment with God. When a leader’s authority is seen as spiritual, it creates a deeper level of influence.
Of course, not all spiritual leadership is harmful. Healthy pastors and church leaders point people to God, not to themselves. Nor do they use God to manipulate people.
Jim Jones used spiritual authority to influence his followers. Candace Owens too, but in a different way.
His spiritual manipulation is easier to see because it was direct and structured. Jim Jones had a defined role. He was the pastor of a church and was already positioned as a spiritual leader.
Candace isn’t a leader in a church, but she speaks in a way that can make people believe she’s in alignment with God. She used the mantra “Christ is King,” making it seem as though she’s a follower of Jesus Christ. She often labels people or groups as demonic, which implies she’s on the side of what is godly. She’s spoken about her Catholic stance in a way that elevates her spiritual authority, and has even described her platform as “God’s platform” and herself as a “conduit of God.”
When followers see a leader’s authority as spiritual, there’s a greater opportunity to influence and manipulate them.
Conspiracies Feed The Cult Dynamic
Another pattern I see in both Jim Jones and Candace Owens is their reliance on conspiracies.
Conspiracy theories became a regular part of Jim Jones’ worldview, and he used them to influence and control his followers. When his church was in Indiana, he warned them of a coming nuclear attack to convince them to relocate to California. Once in California, he continued pushing conspiracies to justify moving his followers to Guyana.
Jim Jones might have believed many of his conspiracies. But in many ways, they served a purpose. They kept followers fearful, suspicious, and dependent on Jones as the one person who “understood” what was really happening and who could “protect” them.
Candace Owens leans heavily into conspiracies. While she didn’t begin her public career this way, over time, conspiracies have become a larger part of her messaging. And since Charlie Kirk’s death, she leans into them more than ever, revealing what I believe is a conspiracy addiction.
She’s made an overwhelming number of conspiracies about Charlie Kirk’s murder. Some of which are: Israel had something to do with Charlie Kirk’s murder; Charlie’s staff and all of his friends and family are fake and suspicious, and should be investigated. She made claims that Egyptian planes were somehow connected to the murder.
People are often drawn to narratives that suggest hidden motives, secret plots, or larger forces at work, especially when those narratives come from someone they already trust. Simple explanations can feel unsatisfying to people who are hooked on a charismatic leader who tends to feed them conspiracies. Even when the explanations lack evidence, they can feel more compelling than the ordinary explanation.
Candace uses conspiracies to position herself as someone who knows more than everyone else. She’s the one exposing “hidden truths.” They also serve to keep her audience engaged. By now, she knows they’re drawn to them, so she continues to feed that appetite. She’s reached a point where she can say almost anything, and her loyal followers will believe it, especially when it feeds the grand narratives they’ve come to expect.
There seems to be a clear pattern with conspiracies and cult leaders. This isn’t unique to Jim Jones and Candace Owens. Other cult personalities like Warren Jeffs, David Koresh and Marshall Applewhite of Heaven’s Gate and many others, also relied on conspiracies to shape how their followers saw the world.
The Cost of Blind Loyalty
Jim Jones’ followers ultimately lost their lives. But long before that, they surrendered their discernment, critical thinking, and sound judgment when it came to Jones, and that ultimately led to their loss of life.
Candace Owens isn’t calling her followers to a physical death. But her audience is showing signs of the same loss of discernment, trading it for loyalty, and critical thinking has taken a back seat to emotional connection.
That loss of sound judgment is also showing up in something else: human compassion.
Instead of grieving with a widow and her children, they’ve misplaced their compassion, directing it toward unproven and outlandish claims while suspicion, hostility, and even threats are aimed at the widow herself.
This kind of erosion doesn’t happen overnight. It happens slowly. With each podcast. With each new claim that goes unchallenged. One dismissed red flag at a time. And eventually, the shift is complete.
They stop weighing what they hear. They stop testing it against reality. The voice of the leader becomes enough.
For the follower, it’s no longer “Does this make sense?” It becomes “Do I trust them?”
And if the answer is yes, almost anything can get through that filter.
Candace’s committed followers wait for her daily podcast the way Jones’s followers waited for him to appear before them, giving them a message. Not to evaluate whether or not what they say is true, but to stay connected and remain inside the comfort of belonging and security.
With Jim Jones, those people didn’t wake up one day willing to die. They were drawn in over time, little by little. They got used to accepting what he said, even when it didn’t make sense. The same with Candace’s followers. They will accept what she says even if it doesn’t make sense. But the irony is that to them, it does make sense because they’ve made the shift. They blindly follow.
Blind loyalty takes away the ability to see the truth and the warning signs.
The Pattern Is The Warning
The situations involving Jim Jones and Candace Owens are clearly different, but the leader-follower patterns are hard to ignore.
Nothing compares to the horror of what happened to Jim Jones’ followers in the end. But dangerous patterns don’t begin with the final outcome. They begin much earlier. They begin when followers surrender critical thinking in exchange for blind trust in the leader.
Even though the full outcome of Candace Owens’ influence on her followers is still unfolding, some of the effects are already visible in the hostility, extreme narratives, and loss of compassion surrounding Charlie Kirk’s widow and children. The danger may not look like that of Jim Jones’ followers, but there is danger when followers surrender discernment, believe increasingly extreme narratives, and lose compassion in exchange for loyalty to a leader.
The pattern is the warning.
Image Credit: Gage Skidmore / Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0)