A Tribute To Mike Rinder; A Billion Years: A Deep Dive Into Scientology, and His Path to Freedom

Mike Rinder’s memoir, A Billion Years, is not just a retelling of his life in the Church of Scientology—it's a raw, unflinching account of survival, betrayal, and a struggle for truth. In this deeply personal book, Rinder opens up about his journey, both the parts that are difficult to hear and the moments that might seem unimaginable to those unfamiliar with the inner workings of one of the world’s most controversial religions. A Billion Years is not just about Scientology—it’s a story of one man’s fight for freedom and redemption, and the painful, gritty process of rebuilding a life after years of manipulation, control, and abuse.

Mike Rinder, born in Australia in 1955, had no idea that his life would soon be shaped by an ideology that would come to dominate everything he believed in. As a teenager, he was drawn into Scientology through his parents, who had embraced the religion. What began as a pursuit for self-improvement, spiritual enlightenment, and belonging quickly escalated into a lifelong commitment that would ultimately strip him of his autonomy and sense of self.

His move to the United States at the age of 18 marked the start of his full immersion into the world of Scientology. Rinder’s years in the Sea Org, the organisation’s elite, military-like group, were spent under intense pressure, working non-stop in exchange for little pay or personal freedom. Scientology's high expectations for its members were set against the backdrop of a carefully cultivated culture of obedience, where personal sacrifice and emotional subjugation were commonplace. Rinder’s ascent through the ranks was relentless, but it also marked the start of a disillusioning and painful journey.

The title of Rinder's memoir—A Billion Years—refers to the commitment members of the Sea Org are asked to make when they join the organisation: a pledge to serve for a billion years, symbolising an endless devotion to the cause. For Rinder, this meant not just a personal vow, but an internalisation of the belief that his entire life was meant to serve the church’s interests. His role in the Church of Scientology took him across the world, including time spent in the United States, the UK, and other countries, where he worked as the church’s spokesperson, interacting with the media and the public in defence of Scientology.

Yet, Rinder's memoir isn't just a recounting of his professional life—it's a stark, raw look at the personal cost of his involvement. His book is real in a way few others are, laying bare the emotional, physical, and psychological toll Scientology took on him.

A Billion Years is not polished or filtered—it is raw. Rinder doesn't shy away from the uncomfortable truths about his own actions or the ways in which Scientology manipulated him. He exposes his own complicity in perpetuating the church’s lies, admitting how deeply embedded he became in its system of control and how that power silenced his better instincts. The toll on Rinder’s mental health was gradual but profound. His years in Scientology were marked by constant self-doubt, anxiety, and the crushing weight of expectation. The pressure to be perfect, to adhere to the church’s rules, to deliver results no matter the cost—these became defining features of his life. Scientology’s ethics system and internal punishments would have broken many others, and Rinder himself was not immune to its effects. The breakdown of his emotional and psychological state is something he confronts head-on in the book, making A Billion Years a vulnerable and incredibly human memoir.

The abuse Mike Rinder experienced within Scientology was not just a backdrop to his story; it was a defining feature of it. A Billion Years is unflinching in its portrayal of the abuse Rinder endured—both emotional and physical—and the psychological tactics used to control him and others. His years in the Sea Org were filled with harsh, often brutal, punishment for any perceived transgression, no matter how small. In the Sea Org, the ethics system was designed to keep individuals in a constant state of fear, guilt, and self-doubt.

Rinder recounts being subjected to physical punishment—everything from forced labour to intense, sometimes violent, interrogations by higher-ups. But perhaps even more damaging was the emotional manipulation: the relentless psychological pressure to conform, to self-criticise, to submit. Members who fell out of line were punished, sometimes physically, sometimes through isolation, and often through forced confessions of sins they didn’t commit. The fear of "fair game"—a Scientology policy that allows the church to harass or punish its perceived enemies—was ever-present, with Rinder himself falling victim to its punitive tactics when he later left the church. The book’s rawness comes from Rinder’s willingness to expose these horrors without glossing over the trauma they caused.

His accounts of forced labour, harsh punishments, and the constant need to defend the church’s ideals—sometimes at the cost of his own happiness and health—are visceral and heartbreaking. What A Billion Years does so powerfully is reveal just how insidious the abuse was: how it became not just a series of actions but a systemic, all-encompassing force that controlled every aspect of his life.

Perhaps one of the most gut-wrenching aspects of Rinder’s time in Scientology is the destruction of his family relationships. Scientology’s policy of “disconnection,” which forces members to sever ties with anyone deemed a threat to the church—including family and friends—led Rinder to make heart-breaking decisions. He had to cut off ties with his parents, his children, and his wife, under the false belief that it was necessary for spiritual purity. The emotional devastation caused by this forced disconnection is one of the most painful elements of the book.

Rinder writes with raw honesty about the guilt and anguish he felt in abandoning his family. Scientology’s manipulation was so powerful that even when he was confronted with the reality of the pain he had caused, he was unable to break free of the church’s hold on him. A Billion Years doesn’t just expose the toxic nature of Scientology—it reveals the deep, personal cost of the church’s control on a human level.

Leaving Scientology wasn’t an easy decision for Mike Rinder—it was, in many ways, a life-and-death struggle. His escape from the church was not a simple matter of walking away; it involved years of emotional and psychological turmoil, constant surveillance, and fear of reprisal. A Billion Years doesn’t shy away from this harrowing process. Rinder's decision to leave was the culmination of years of disillusionment, internal conflict, and a growing awareness of the abuse he had suffered.

The book goes into great detail about the emotional battle he faced in breaking free. Scientology had taught him that leaving would result in eternal damnation, and he was forced to reconcile the crushing guilt that came with abandoning everything he had been taught to believe. Rinder’s escape was fraught with risk, and his departure was met with hostility, harassment, and a brutal smear campaign from the church. But despite the pain, A Billion Years captures the triumphant moment of realisation that freedom was possible—that his life was worth more than the chains of Scientology.

After leaving, Rinder faced the long and painful process of rebuilding his life, free from the psychological abuse and manipulation of Scientology. A Billion Years doesn’t just focus on the trauma he endured; it also highlights his journey towards healing. The process of recovery wasn’t instant—it involved confronting years of abuse, rebuilding trust, and learning to function in a world that had been alien to him for so long.

Rinder’s work with The Aftermath Foundation and his public activism through the Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath series became vital parts of his post-Scientology life. His willingness to speak out, to be a voice for others who had suffered the same fate, helped others to heal as well. Through his activism, Rinder was able to bring much-needed attention to the abuses of the Church of Scientology, and A Billion Years serves as a lasting testament to his resilience.

A Tribute to Mike Rinder

Mike Rinder passed away on January 5th 2025 after a battle with cancer, but his legacy is one of immense courage, resilience, and advocacy for the truth. A Billion Years is a testament to his strength—a raw and real account of a life that was shaped, broken, and ultimately freed from the grip of Scientology. His journey is one of immense personal cost, but also of hope and redemption.

Rinder’s story has inspired countless others who have found themselves trapped in similar high-control groups, offering them a glimpse of what it might look like to escape and rebuild. Through his memoir, his activism, and his work with other survivors, Mike Rinder has left a legacy of hope and truth.

Rest in peace, Mike. Your fight for freedom, your willingness to expose the truth, and your advocacy for those who are still trapped in Scientology will never be forgotten. Your story will continue to inspire and support those who need it most.