Two young ladies sitting on a couch laughing

"What I had to resolve was that I was not for sale."

Product: Living the Twelve Traditions in Today's World

Other titles you may like.

Product: Walk the Talk with Step 12
Walk the Talk with Step 12

Product: Recovery Now: A Basic Text for Today
Recovery Now: A Basic
Text for Today

Product: A Gentle Path through the Twelve Principles: Living the Values Behind the Steps
A Gentle Path through the
Twelve Principles: Living the
Values Behind the Steps

Visit Recovery Road to view and
listen to all the episodes.

Episode 117 -- May 27, 2021

Tradition Eight: Giving It Away

Those of us in recovery understand that the person "carrying the message" needs no special expertise other than his or her own personal experience in the program. In this way, the recovered alcoholic is on the same level as the person needing help; no diplomas or academic courses are required to share your story for the benefit of another. This idea of "freely carrying the message" is enshrined in Tradition Eight: "Alcoholics Anonymous should remain forever nonprofessional, but our service centers may employ special workers."

In their book Living the Twelve Traditions in Today's World, Mel B. and Mike F. guide readers through the Twelve Traditions of AA, pointing out what they see as the key to the heart of the movement's lasting success: principles before personalities. In this excerpt, recovery old-timer Tom I. describes the necessity of practicing the principle of giving without payment and "staying in one's own lane"—that is, keeping our work in the program separate from our paid employment. In working the Twelve Step program, we carry the message to others not only to help the still suffering alcoholic or addict but to also protect our own recovery.

This excerpt has been edited for brevity.

AA member Tom I. shares some of his experience with the Eighth Tradition:

"Eight has to do with 'not selling what we give away.' There were talks of Bill W. getting involved in working with hospitals, including discussions about possible chains of hospitals [in AA's early days]. This is, in part, what generated the need for the Eighth Tradition. AA itself needs always remain nonprofessional because you can't sell a spiritual gift. That is what we have—a spiritual gift. We are not selling a product—that's not what we're about. The whole experience of the program where Bill met with Bob and Bob stressed how important it was that he and Bill talked about their experience, not knowledge. This is the bonding that occurs, and is what we need to preserve.

If we follow that principle, we won't be 'hustling' in AA—we are not going to be selling to people. Not everybody practices this, however, not by any means. There are people who sell their service, but unfortunately in the process, also sell their souls. This is something that cannot happen.

When I first got into the program, this Tradition was extremely helpful to me in several ways. When I was first employed to work in a prison system, I didn't really have any old greybeards to talk with about it. Nobody had dealt with this sort of thing before. So this Tradition was extremely important to me. Tradition Eight and a couple others were extremely important in keeping proper balance in what I was doing, especially considering that I had just been paroled from a maximum custody penitentiary about two years earlier. Then, there I was, employed as a professional employee in a corrections system, with a lot of my work being done in a maximum custody penitentiary.

That was heady wine. I had to do a lot of thinking—just me and my Higher Power having these conversations, because nobody else could talk about personal experience.

My sponsor was able to offer some insights and understanding, but he had never stood where I was. I became centered on this Tradition, because if I was going to wear the title of a prison official, then that is what I would be. I was not going to try and work both sides of the street.

I could have been a real hoodlum hero, the toast of the world's prison population, on the cover of every tabloid in the world. That would have been unbelievable!

What I had to resolve was that I was not for sale. I respect anonymity, and I also respect that a gift is to be given. So I made up my mind when I began my professional career that I would not become some kind of hoodlum hero. I was going to take my place in the agency and do my job. If I was paid for a job, I was going to be a professional employee. Practicing these principles in my professional career for thirty-nine years led me to the top of my profession until my retirement.

The thing that I notice with people and their sponsors is that for anyone who goes into the field of alcoholic treatment, there's a sharp distinction between what you sell as a professional and what you give away. I don't care if you're an aide or an orderly who works in a treatment center, you do your job, and you're not a professional AA. If I am working with someone who is working in a setting like that, when I talk to them, I'm not only participating in their life, but I'm watching them. What I'm looking for is somebody sitting in a discussion meeting who is counseling, rather than sharing. When I see that, he and I will have a talk; same if a guy is speaking at a meeting. If he starts making what sounds like a treatment lecture, there will be another conversation. That is exactly what gets you into trouble, when you start marketing a spiritual gift.

I received a call one day from a lady I've known for many years. She had been a solid AA member for years, a PhD, and a very sharp woman. I knew she was working with the mental health system somewhere. She told me that she would buy me lunch. so I said, 'Okay, I'll go.'

She was troubled.... She said, 'Tom, you're still active in AA, aren't you?' I said, 'Yes, aren't you?' She replied by saying, 'No.' So I inquired, 'Well that's too bad, why not?' It was a sad thing she said: 'I gave at the office.'

That is what happens when you get distorted about your God-given gift and you try to sell it to somebody else. My God, that's an untenable position. To me that's what is so important about this—we cannot sell this gift. I can give you hundreds of stories about that. But that's exactly what it comes down to: 'I gave at the office.' She thought that what she was doing in her day job could substitute for going to meetings and working a program. That is a sad, sad culmination of a very bright woman. She had been in AA for twenty years.

We have many people who get into trouble thinking that a sales job they have given to themselves is a form of recovery. When that paycheck hits, it is pretty hard to reconcile that as a gift. I think it's important for sponsors to help folks to hang on to that principle. You can't sell it. You have to give it away—otherwise it doesn't count."

About the Author:
Mel B. is a recovering alcoholic and a longtime member of Alcoholics Anonymous. He writes anonymously on subjects related to alcoholism and was a contributing writer for Pass It On, AA's authorized biography of cofounder Bill Wilson. In addition to Ebby: The Man Who Sponsored Bill W., he has authored four other Hazelden books: New Wine, My Search for Bill W., Walk in Dry Places, and 101 Meeting Starters, as well as several Hazelden pamphlets. He has also contributed about sixty articles to The Grapevine, the international journal of AA.

Michael Fitzpatrick is coauthor with William G. Borchert of 1000 Years of Sobriety and is one of the leading historians and speakers in the field of alcoholism, specializing in the development of the Twelve Step movement. He owns what is possibly the largest audio archive related to the Twelve Step movement ever assembled, containing more than three thousand original reel-to-reel recordings of the voices of the men and women who pioneered the Twelve Step movement. Mike is in the process of digitizing these recordings, which are now being made available online at recoveryspeakers.org.

© 2012 Hazelden Foundation
All rights reserved