A Letter That Revealed the Man

The inspiration for this reflection came during my monthly sponsorship family meeting tonight with my sponsor and sponsor brothers.

We are usually in the Big Book when we come together for our monthly meeting, but tonight, my sponsor chose to read the famous correspondence between Bill W. and Carl Jung: Bill’s letter to Jung dated January 23, 1961, and Jung’s remarkable reply dated January 30, 1961. The exchange was later published in the Grapevine in January 1963 and has become one of the most treasured pieces of AA history.

Most of us know the story. Years before AA was founded, an alcoholic named Rowland H. sought help from Jung. After exhausting conventional treatment options, Jung told him that his case appeared hopeless from a medical standpoint, but that profound spiritual experiences had occasionally transformed alcoholics in ways science could not explain. That message eventually found its way through a series of events that helped lay the groundwork for what would become Alcoholics Anonymous.

What struck me during our discussion tonight wasn’t the history itself. It was Bill.

Reading his letter, one of my sponsor brothers shared he was struck by the humility and gratitude that flowed through every paragraph. Here was a man who had co-founded a worldwide Fellowship, helped write the Big Book, shaped the Twelve Traditions, and guided AA through its formative years. Yet there was no sense of ownership, self-importance, or self-congratulation in his words.

Instead, Bill wrote as a grateful alcoholic acknowledging a debt.

As we talked about the letters, toward the end of our meeting, my sponsor highlighted one thought: How did Bill maintain that perspective after becoming one of the most recognized figures in AA? What did anonymity look like for him? How did he handle praise, influence, and recognition? And how did he continue practicing these principles in all his affairs long after the Fellowship was firmly established? #citizenship

The Long Road from Founder to Trusted Servant

Most of us know Bill W. the founder. We know about the kitchen table. We know about the meeting with Dr. Bob. We know about the writing of the Big Book. We know about the formation of the Traditions and the creation of the General Service Conference.

But what happened after all of that? One of the most remarkable things Bill ever did was give AA away.

By the mid-1950s, AA had become an international Fellowship. Bill could have remained its unquestioned leader for the rest of his life. Many founders of successful organizations do exactly that. Instead, he spent years preparing AA to function without him. At the 1955 International Convention in St. Louis, Bill formally transferred responsibility for AA’s future to the General Service Conference. The Fellowship would no longer depend upon the personality of its founders. It would be guided by principles, trusted servants, and a collective group conscience.

In many ways, this may have been Bill’s greatest act of leadership.

He stepped aside.

A Man Who Knew the Danger of Fame

What makes this even more remarkable is that Bill openly admitted he was not naturally humble. Throughout his writings he spoke honestly about his struggles with pride, prestige, recognition, and the desire for approval. He knew those temptations because he experienced them personally.

Bill later admitted that when the Big Book was first published, he was tempted to abandon anonymity and become publicly identified as AA’s founder. Trusted friends convinced him otherwise. Looking back, it is my understanding Bill believed that decision helped protect the Fellowship from becoming centered around personalities rather than principles. Bill didn’t become humble because he was immune to ego. He became humble because he learned to recognize ego and place principles ahead of it.

What Anonymity Looked Like for Bill

Many people misunderstand anonymity. By the 1950s and 1960s, plenty of AA members knew exactly who Bill was. Anonymity wasn’t about hiding. It was about refusing to place personalities above principles. Bill declined honors and recognition that would have elevated him above the Fellowship. He understood that AA’s future depended upon its principles being more important than any individual, including himself. He also understood something many of us eventually discover: The ego doesn’t care whether we’re famous around the world or simply the biggest personality in our home group.

Recognition is recognition.

And ego is ego.

The Humility of Being Unknown

There is something beautiful about the idea of a newcomer sitting across from Bill and having no idea who he was. Whether or not a particular story can be verified, the principle certainly reflects the spirit he tried to live by. Imagine spending decades building something that changes millions of lives and then walking into a meeting where nobody knows your name. For many people, that would feel insulting. For a recovered alcoholic, it can be liberating. Because once the introductions are over, none of that matters.

• The newcomer doesn’t need a founder.
• The newcomer needs another alcoholic.
  • Someone who understands desperation.
  • Someone who has taken the Steps.
  • Someone who knows what it feels like to wake up defeated and afraid.

In that moment, Bill wasn’t “Bill W., Co-Founder of Alcoholics Anonymous.” He was simply one drunk talking to another. Just as Dr. Bob taught him. Just as the Big Book teaches us. Just as countless sponsors have done ever since.

Practicing These Principles

When we read Step Twelve’s instruction to practice these principles in all our affairs, it’s easy to think about honesty, forgiveness, kindness, and service. But Bill’s later life highlights another principle we sometimes overlook: The willingness to become unnecessary.

• Good sponsors eventually watch sponsees stand on their own feet.
• Good trusted servants rotate out of positions.
• Good leaders develop other leaders.
• Good AA members remember that the Fellowship existed before them and will continue after them.

Bill spent the final chapter of his life proving that AA didn’t belong to him. It belonged to all of us.

The Real Legacy

The longer I stay sober, the more I find myself reflecting on what some members call “seconds and inches.” Those moments that seem insignificant at the time.

• A chance meeting.
• An unexpected conversation.
• A phone call answered at just the right moment.
• Someone who stayed after the meeting.
• Someone who took us through the Steps.
• Someone who believed in us before we believed in ourselves.

I sometimes ask whether these things are “odd or God.”

Reading Bill’s letter to Jung reminded me that Bill never forgot those moments in his own story. Even after all the recognition, all the accomplishments, and all the years of sobriety, he remained grateful for those who had helped carry the message to him. Which raises a few questions for all of us.

• Who was your Ebby?
• Who first sat across from you and shared hope?
• Who answered the phone when you called?
• Who carried the message to you?

And perhaps the most important question: For whom are you becoming an Ebby today?

The world remembers Bill Wilson as a founder. AA remembers him as Bill W. And after reading his letter to Carl Jung, I suspect that’s exactly how he wanted it. Not as a celebrity. Not as a legend. Not as the owner of Alcoholics Anonymous. Just a grateful alcoholic who never forgot where the miracle came from.

Read The Letters: Click Here

In love & service,