Huffington Magazine Issue 57 | Page 60

HUFFINGTON 07.14.13 STRAIGHT TALK Stories like this have supplied critics with ample fodder. As the gay rights activist Wayne Besen put it, in a blog on The Huffington Post, “If so-called ‘ex-gay’ therapists had a slogan, it would be ‘Getting paid and getting laid.’” Not everyone has required the prodding of public humiliation to call it quits. Just a few years after he appeared in advertisements with his wife saying “change is possible,” Alan Chambers, the head of Exodus until its disbanding last month, announced at the group’s annual meeting last year that he no longer believed homosexuals could be “cured” through Christian prayer and psychotherapy. When I spoke with him, he said he was “deeply sorry” that he’d had a hand in promoting the therapy. “It causes people shame, and shame internalized never produces freedom,” he said. “It causes death, and for the rest of my life I’ll do everything I can to help people realize they don’t need to be ashamed.” Chambers said he’s starting a new organization to help any Christians, gay or straight, who choose to live a celibate life. “There are always going to be peo- ple like me who view the Bible in such a way that calls them to celibacy,” he said. Perhaps the biggest blow to the movement came last spring, when Dr. Spitzer acknowledged in a letter to the editor of the Archives of Sexual Behavior that there was no way of knowing whether the subjects of his influential 2003 study had truthfully responded to his questions. He apologized for “making unproven claims” and asked for the forgiveness of any gay person who “wasted time and energy” because of his endorsement. Ex-gays and their political supporters have long accused defectors of bowing to political pressure. David Pickup, an ex-gay therapist who acts as an unofficial spokesman for NARTH and continues to cite the Spitzer study on his website, told me he didn’t think the defections proved anything. “Does authentic reparative therapy work for everyone?” he asked. “No. Does it work for some people? Yes.” We were at Nicolosi’s counseling center, a drab corporate building in Encino, an L.A. suburb. A handsome minister’s son with a deep, confident voice, Pickup spoke in glowing terms about his own experiences in reparative therapy. “It saved my life,” he