I don’t recall Swami Sivananda discussing perversions of thought power in his book Thought Power, at least not at great length. It’s clear that he’s aware of the possibility of a yogi abusing thought power, and it would have been obvious to him that ethical practices (such as the yamas and the niyamas from Raja Yoga) would have been put right at the beginning of the path. Wisely do many religious traditions start with ethics. It’s because the powers that shall, from that point, be cultivated need a preliminary ego-emptying in order for the powers so cultivated to be of benefit to all others. One can’t but think here of the bodhisattva.

Of course, modernity (unlike, say, the Confucian ethic whose point was to ensure that those who work on behalf of the state are ethically good) has placed no guardrails on the cultivation and exercise of thought power. A university education amounts to almost nothing as far as this issue is concerned. This, I submit, is what makes the Epstein case so mesmerizing: he had thought power, albeit of the evil kind.

We know that the mythos of the Fall of Man contains a profound, if haunting truth: the more powerful mind, that of Satan who is described as being “more crafty than any of the wild animals [and two humans] the Lord God had made” (Genesis 3:1), prevailed over the weaker minds (i.e., Eve’s and Adam’s). They were willing to accept, open to being persuaded. In other words, their minds were already receptive to persuasibility.

What is said of Satan in Genesis can also be said of Epstein. It must be deduced that he was the smartest guy in the room. But not only that. He had a charm, a charisma, a way about him, and–perhaps above all–a way with words that transfixed “the power elite.” What are we to infer but that his mind was more powerful than theirs? I don’t see any way around that conclusion.

Without naming names of the massive number of power elite who regularly corresponded with Epstein, I can say that these cases reveal seemingly powerful people undone by the lowest chakras at which they were clearly stuck: the desire for endless health, for countless pleasures and wealth, and for increased status plus greater power. Setting aside the many young women he abused, Epstein didn’t (or so I’ve yet to read) coerce the many power elites (and wannabe power elites) who came to him and begged for favors. No, he charmed, seduced them. They found a confidante in him. In the language of New Thought: they accepted his suggestions.

Epstein’s mind was more powerful than theirs, and his influence must have been felt, so we can read, in myriad ways. He was like a cult leader to whom others kept readily coming. He was like a great magician whose spells most wanted and many, many accepted. This story is not about how “the mighty have fallen” but about how the mighty are actually very weak inside.

We should pause and take stock. Are we so impressionable? Are our minds so facile, receptive, conquerable? If someone offered us what we most desired, indeed offered us “the world,” would we take it? Are we so sure that we wouldn’t? How could we even think to measure twice and cut once so long as we were so completely enthralled by the spells that were set on fulfilling our greatest longings for the grandest worldly objects?

The yogis and Vedantins are right to suggest that a more powerful mind–and what I’m about to write is only an apparent paradox–is the one that’s slowly emptied of desires. Above the lower chakras we find love and intuitive clarity. Keep emptying. Keep ascending.