You're welcome!
I do try to think in terms of fallacies, and I think that warning signs are indeed important heuristics, though they can be spurious. They should make you update your beliefs to some extent.
At the very least, when you notice them you should do a formal outside view perspective, to compare to your inside view perspective. You can often learn a bit about how to present things this way.
What do you mean by causal models in this context?
I think that the discussion would have gone more productively if you had narrowed your original comment to the feature of the ritual that worried you, the effect it could have, and how that feature could reasonably lead to that effect. Then, people can focus on the individual components of the specific worry, rather the amorphous charge of cultishness. Even if you only noticed the danger because of it sounded your cult alarm, you don't need to use that as part of your explanation of why you think it's dangerous.
Indeed, if you can't come up with an independent reason for why it's dangerous, that's moderate evidence that it's not dangerous, but still suggests something like "I'm worried about group confessions as a component of this ritual; what could go wrong?", which will get the contrarians to do your imagining for you.
Even if in the majority of these meetings all or most members are long-time friends, there can be concerns about sharing very personal information.
I think these concerns are worth informing attendees about- "hey, remember, there's no oath of secrecy here, but also please don't spread stories without permission"- but because attendees can choose to share whatever they like, there's no element of coercion to be worried about. (There might be a reciprocity concern, but that seems minimal and could be ameliorated with the addition of a targeted "X is verboten" rule.)
On Sunday, April 14th, the Boston group held our first Schelling Day celebration. The idea was to open up and share our private selves. It was a rousing success.
That doesn't do it justice. Let me try again.
By all the stars, you guys. This was beautiful.
About fifteen people showed up. Most of us were from the hard core of Boston's rationalist community. Two of us were new to the group. (I'm hopeful this will convince them to start attending our regular meetups.) There was a brief explanation and a few vital clarifying questions before we began the ritual, which went for maybe 90-120 minutes, including a couple of short breaks. All of us spoke at least once.
I don't want to go into specifics about what people said, but it was powerful. I learned about sides of my friends I would never have guessed at. People went into depth about issues I had only seen from the surface. I heard things that will make me change my behavior towards my friends. I saw angst and guilt and hope and pain and wild joy. I saw compassion and uncertainty and courage. People said things they had never said before, things I might not have been brave enough even to think in their position. I had tears in my eyes more than once.
Speaking went remarkably smoothly. I set a timer for five minutes for each speaker, but it never ran out. (Five minutes is a surprisingly long time.) Partway through, Julia suggested we leave a long moment of silence between speakers, which was a very good idea and I wish I'd done a better job of enforcing it.
Afterwards, we had a potluck and mingled in small groups. At first we talked about our revelations, but over time our conversation started drifting towards our usual topics. Next time, in order to keep us on topic, I'll probably try adding more structure to this stage.
The other area I wanted to improve was the ritual with the snacks. We had five categories: Struggles, Confessions, Hopes, Joys, and Other. There weren't many Hopes, and there wasn't much distinction between Struggles and Confessions. I'll change this for next time, possibly to Hardships, Joys, Histories, and Other. There's room for improvement in the specific snacks I picked, too.
This celebration was the most powerful thing I've experienced since the Solstice megameetup. I don't think I want to do this again soon—it was one of the most exhausting things I've ever done, even if I didn't notice until after I'd left—but I know I want to do it again sometime.
To everyone who came: I'm so proud of what you did and who you are. Thank you for your courage and sincerity.