The Esalen Institute, a storied hippie hotel on the Pacific coast south of Carmel, California, has a new mission: a home for technologists to reckon with what they have built.
BIG SUR, Calif. — Silicon Valley, facing a crisis of the soul, has found a retreat center.
It has been a hard year for the tech industry. Prominent figures like Sean Parker and Justin Rosenstein, horrified by what technology has become, have begun to publicly denounce companies like Facebook that made them rich.
And so Silicon Valley has come to the Esalen Institute, a storied hippie hotel here on the Pacific coast south of Carmel, California. After storm damage in the spring and a skeleton crew in the summer, the institute was fully reopened in October with a new director and a new mission: It will be a home for technologists to reckon with what they have built.
This is a radical change for the rambling old center. Founded in 1962, the nonprofit helped bring yoga, organic food and meditation into the American mainstream.
Most Read Business Stories
- King County property tax bills are coming, and the housing market slowdown won't lower your bill
- Furloughed federal workers offered 90-day, interest-free loans by Washington Federal
- Seattle still has the most cranes in America, and construction isn't losing much steam
- Macy's will close its Northgate store next year, Redmond store in next few months
- Outpouring of generosity for TSA workers, others without pay VIEW
The leaders behind humanist psychology worked from the lodge, and legend has it that Hunter S. Thompson wandered the place with a shotgun. Nudity was the norm.
Esalen’s last year has been apocalyptic. Three landslides in the spring took out the roads on all sides, and participants in a massage workshop had to be evacuated from a hilltop by helicopter. While closed, flooded and losing $1 million a month, the institute’s board made big changes. When the road reopened in October, the place had a new executive director, Ben Tauber, and its new mission.
“There’s a dawning consciousness emerging in Silicon Valley as people recognize that their conventional success isn’t necessarily making the world a better place,” said Tauber, 34, a former Google product manager and startup executive coach. “The CEOs, inside they’re hurting. They can’t sleep at night.”
Tauber has stacked Esalen’s calendar with sessions by Silicon Valley leaders, which are selling out.
Dave Morin, a venture capitalist and early Facebook employee, will lead a program on depression and tech; a former Google ethicist, Tristan Harris, led a weekend on internet addiction; and tech futurists will host a conference on virtual reality and spirituality.
Chargers have been installed for Tesla electric cars, and there is usually a line to use them. The new sessions in 2018 are aimed at the workers building virtual reality, artificial intelligence and social networks.
“They wonder if they’re doing the right thing for humanity,” Tauber said. “These are questions we can only answer behind closed doors.”
About a three-hour drive south from San Francisco along Highway 1, Esalen holds 120 guests, who stay in little cottages along the rugged coast and wander among classes, the hot springs and the dining hall.
The kitchen is famous for its bread, especially the sourdough rye, which sits out all day and night along with apricot spread and peanut butter for snacking. This is not a health retreat.
The bar serves kombucha, coconut water, wine and beer. Sitting and having a cold kombucha one recent evening was Bodhi Kalayjian, 47, who lives in Big Sur, wears flip-flops and has shaggy gray-blond hair.
“It’s about putting Silicon Valley back in their bodies,” he said. “Everybody’s got a soul. It’s about finding it.”
Kalayjian was an early Google employee and Google chef, but “once the IPO happened it was less fun,” he said. Now he’s an Esalen baker and masseuse.
Gopi Kallayil, the chief evangelist of brand marketing at Google, was running late from work to the class he would host at Esalen called “Connect to Your Inner-Net.”
His assistants were scrambling to set up. “It has to be so if two engineers are sitting on opposite sides they wouldn’t feel there is too much space between them,” said Jnanada Schalk, who was formerly named Jennie and is assisting Kallayil as a volunteer.
Kallayil had the participants go in a circle and introduce themselves. There was a health-tech investor, a product manager, several software engineers and developers, an entrepreneur who had just sold his food startup, a nurse, an affordable-housing advocate and two lawyers. Kallayil spoke in the language of Silicon Valley.
“What is it that moves the technology to where your inner net moves forward?” he asked. “Thankfully, other people have developed the operating manual.”
He said that many of the people who came to him had foundered this year, and that he, too, found himself wondering about the impact of his work.
“What are these technologies doing?” said Kallayil “Decisions we make affect more than 1 billion people. Here, you shed your clothes and your inhibition, and there’s a rawness.”
The Inner-Net schedule is loosely packed. The next morning, there would be mindful walking, mindful eating, re-imagining work and life integration, then compassion practice, self-compassion and, finally, yoga. After dinner, there would be work on envisioning lives as they are and as we want them to be. Then Kallayil would lead some chanting.
Esalen’s hot springs are good all day but are famous for the night scene, when they open to the public between 1 and 3 a.m. A weekend stay for a couple at Esalen can cost $2,890, so budget travelers stay nearby and come wandering in with towels a little after midnight.
The dirt path to the baths leads to a concrete corridor and a changing room. Around a corner, it was pitch black with an overpowering smell of sulfur. As the eyes adjusted to starlight, big steaming concrete hot tubs, claw-foot personal tubs and a couple of dozen quiet naked bodies could be seen. The space cannot be photographed.
Tauber was a surprising pick to head a retreat center. He had previously founded a real-time celebrity geo-stalking service called JustSpotted when Google hired him and his team in 2011. Soon after, he vacationed in Big Sur and decided his work was causing harm, he said.
“I realized I was addicting people to their phones,” Tauber said. “It’s a crisis that everyone’s in the culture of killing it, and inside they’re dying.”
In the hot spring one night, he ran into an Esalen leader who invited him to a conscious business event. Tauber quit Google to open a business coaching startup founders and developed Esalen’s technology strategy, joining the board in 2015. During the springtime flooding, as Esalen cut its staff to 50 from 330, Tauber took over.
His plan is to aim programming at top executives. “How do we scale our impact as an organization?” he asked. “We do it through impacting the influencers.”
His house is a wood-and-stone half circle built into the hillside, looking out through the cypress onto the water. By the dying embers of a fire that he makes every morning, he was reading a history of Esalen and a Summer of Love coffee-table book.
Upstairs, the Inner-Net class was doing a compassion exercise. Everyone spent 10 minutes looking into a stranger’s eyes and silently repeating phrases like “this person has emotions just like me,” “this person has experienced pain and suffering just like me,” “this person will die just like me.” They were barefoot. Some were wrapped in coarse blankets.
The art teacher downstairs had made a trough of warm, foaming mushroom drink.