What motivates a person like Alex Barnes-Ross, who became a bigoted anti-Scientology stalker after he was kicked out of the religion for cause?
To understand that, one must first understand how Alex Barnes-Ross ended up jobless, faithless and alone.
In 2013, Barnes-Ross had, in his own words, “very, very, very, extremely strong feelings” for a female colleague at the Church who rejected his advances.
After stalking her ceaselessly, he texted her this disturbing admission: “The whole time I’ve known you don’t like me, but… I have literally no [control over] my feelings.”
“The [stalker’s] rage at rejection is often augmented by distress at the perceived unfairness or humiliating nature of the rejection.”
Barnes-Ross “ignored my requests to stop his disturbing and harassing behaviour,” the young woman said. He routinely invaded her personal space—making her feel trapped and helpless—“always trying to get physically closer,” in spite of her pleas.
“I felt like a sitting duck and like I couldn’t escape him,” she said.
Barnes-Ross was dismissed from the Church soon after.
His obsession with the young woman whom he had “very, very, very, extremely strong feelings for” and her failure to reciprocate “really ruin[ed] my life,” Barnes-Ross said.
He likewise described how much he “hated” being “kicked out” of the Church that was “everything” to him. “I just kind of get on with my life and try not to think about it too much,” he said, “because I’m horrifically depressed and think that there’s no point in doing anything.”
But he did not “get on with his life.” Far from it. In fact, from that point forward, Alex Barnes-Ross’ behaviour can best be summarised by Cambridge University Press’ Stalkers and Their Victims, and its chapter “The rejected stalker and the resentful stalker”: “The [stalker’s] rage at rejection is often augmented by distress at the perceived unfairness or humiliating nature of the rejection. The sense of loss may be heightened by the stalker’s awareness that for them the lost relationship may be irreplaceable.”
The Church is “irreplaceable” to Barnes-Ross. He says as much—repeatedly and to this day—more than a decade after he was ejected from the religion.
“If I hadn’t been kicked out, I fully believe I would have very much still been in today,” Barnes-Ross said. Scientology “wasn’t just something I believed in, something I did. Everything about me was Scientology. It was everything to me.”
“I was fighting to stay,” he added. “The last time I felt truly inspired to do something, or like a feeling of meaningfulness in my life—like the last time I was like, ‘this is who I am’ was in Scientology.”
Barnes-Ross’ persistent stalking of the Church—its staff and parishioners, male and female—has evolved into a bigotry-for-profit scheme that he now refers to as “a full-time job.”
It has been 11 years since Barnes-Ross was dismissed from the Church. “The rejected can be among the most persistent and intrusive of stalkers,” Cambridge writes.
So, no, Barnes-Ross doesn’t hate Scientology.
What he hates is the fact that he was kicked out of the religion after stalking a Scientologist. Unhinged by the expulsion, Barnes-Ross lost his way in life, and today seeks to get even by attempting to harm the religion he loves—the religion that tried to help him—the religion that discovered, tragically, Alex Barnes-Ross is a man who refuses to reform, no matter what.
That is the real source of Barnes-Ross’ hatred and bigotry.
This article is the second in a three-part series on Alex Barnes-Ross. Next, STAND delves into how Alex Barnes-Ross uses his bigotry as a means of financial support because he has failed at everything he has ever tried. Read Part 1 of the series, “The Malevolent Psychosis of Stalker Alex Barnes-Ross,” here.