Let's Sell These People a Piece of Blue Sky: Hubbard, Dianetics and Scientology (5 page)

I would introduce myself to someone on the street as if I
was conducting a survey. I would ask “What would you most like to be?,” then
“most like to do?,” then “have?.” The questions were purely a device to start
people talking. As soon as they did, I would slip into Hubbard’s “Dissemination
drill”
⁵
by saying I was a Scientologist, and dealing with any
negative response by attacking the person’s source of information. If someone
said, “Didn’t the Australians ban Scientology?” I would say, “Where did you
hear that?” They would almost inevitably say, “In the newspapers.” This could
often be dismissed with “Well, you can’t believe
anything
you read in
the papers,” diverting attention from the complaint. It sounds remarkable, but
many people would agree, and abandon their criticism. This trained tactic
underlies Scientology’s self-defense: divert the critic, attack the source not
the information.

Next, I was told to direct the person to their “ruin”;
whatever they thought was ruining their life. I would keep asking questions
until they showed genuine emotion about some aspect of their life. Then I was
supposed to “bring them to understanding” by letting them know that whatever
their problem was, there was a Scientology course that dealt with it. “You’re
frightened of dying? Scientology has a course that can help you!” “Oh, yes,
Scientology can help you with your asthma!” I was told to say these things, and
I believed what I was saying. The course which would help their problem, from
obesity to pre-menstrual tension, was always the “Communication Course.”

I would take an interested person to the Mission, and hand
them over to a “Registrar” to be given a lengthy Scientology personality test,
or a free introductory lecture. I took many strangers into the Mission, and
most of my friends. Several started courses, though most drifted away without
finishing.

The yellow walls of the Mission were covered with small
notices, newspaper clippings about Scientology “wins,” testimonials (“Success
Stories”), and Hubbard quotes: “Scientology leads to success in any walk of
life,” for instance. The Mission consisted of a course room, an office, a tiny
kitchen, a lavatory, and two counseling rooms. The course room could hold about
30 people, but most of the time only a few students were present. The
receptionist doubled as a Course Supervisor. In the evenings seasoned
Scientologists would arrive to take more advanced courses. Among these were a
bank manager and his wife, who held a senior position with the county Health
Authority. I also did drills with the managing director of an engraving business,
and with an active Quaker.

They were all very encouraging about the benefits they felt
they had experienced because of Scientology.

I expected to take a short course in Dianetics, and then
start shifting my engrams around. This was not to be. In the quarter century
since the publication of “
Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health
,”
Hubbard had allegedly conducted a great deal of research, and the original
procedure was now outmoded. A rigidly defined series of steps constituted the
Scientology “Bridge.” It was possible to receive counseling for a fee, or to
train as a counselor and co-counsel with another student for free. There were
several courses involved, but before Mission staff would even discuss the cost,
they insisted that I do the Communication, or “Comm,” Course.

The Comm Course is the beginning of most Scientology
careers. Hubbard claimed to have been the first person to scientifically
dissect communication. The Comm Course drills are called Training Routines, or
TRs.
⁶

The first two TRs are similar to meditation. They are
supposed to help you focus your attention on the person you are talking to. Two
people sit facing each other, without speaking or moving. In the first drill
(OT TR-0) they sit with their eyes closed, in the second (TR-0) open and
staring at one another. These drills are often done for hours without pause,
and form part of most Scientology courses. As with meditation, I hallucinated
while doing the open-eyed TR-0. My coach explained vaguely that people who had
taken drugs often found this. In fact, hallucination is not unusual for anyone
who stares fixedly for long enough, but I did not realize this, and was
genuinely concerned.

The next step is “TR-0 Bullbait.” One student baits the
other, verbally and through gestures, trying to disturb the recipient’s
motionless composure. If the student moves, laughs, speaks, or even blinks excessively,
the coach “flunks” him. It is presumed that something the coach said or did
provoked the reaction, so the drill is restarted, and the coach tries to repeat
the earlier stimulus exactly. This is done until there is no reaction from the
student.

I was first “bullbaited” by a dour, middle-aged house
painter who had little time for a young hippy. In “bullbaiting,” the coach can
do anything save leave his chair; so he sat and insulted me, told obscene
jokes, and pulled faces until I stopped responding. The idea is to find
“buttons” which when pushed force an immediate reaction and, through drilling,
to overcome these reactions, allowing a more considered response to real-life
stimuli. His main approach was to insist that because I had long hair I must be
a homosexual. It took about two hours before I attained immobility in the face
of this onslaught. I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment.

The next Training Routine, TR-1, is supposed to teach the
student to speak audibly and coherently, and to teach him to ask written
questions in a natural way. In TR-1, the student reads lines at random from
Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland”; he “makes the line his own,” and then
repeats it to the coach. The coach must hear clearly what is said, and feel it
was intended that he hear it. A course room full of people declaiming “Off with
his head!” or “Contrariwise” is one of many surreal experiences Scientology provides.

TR-2 deals with acknowledgments. In counseling it is
necessary to show you’ve heard, so you say “Good,” “Thank-you,” “Okay,” or
something similar. This ends what Hubbard calls a “cycle of communication,” and
prepares the way for a new “cycle.” The coach reads a line from “Alice in
Wonderland” and the student acknowledges it.

By the time the student comes to TR-3, he has learned to
concentrate on the person in front of him and not be thrown by their reactions.
The student has also learned to make sure that he is clearly audible, and to
show he has heard what is said to him. The lessons of the earlier TRs must be
retained throughout the course. In TR-3, the student learns to repeat an
unanswered question without variation. TRs were designed for Scientology
counselors, and Hubbard’s counseling questions are exactly worded. To prevent
the drilling from turning into counseling, two non-sensitive questions are
used: either “Do birds fly?,” or “Do fish swim?” If the coach answers, the
student accepts the answer by acknowledging it. If the coach does anything
else, the student says, “I’ll repeat the question,” and does so.

TR-4, the last Training Routine on the Comm Course, drills
the student to “handle originations” made by the coach, and to return his attention
to the original question. For example:

Student: Do birds fly?

Coach: It’s hot in here!

Student: I’ll
open the window (opens window). Okay, I’ll repeat the question, do birds fly?

Over the years I persuaded about 20 people to do the
Communication Course. I instructed some of them, or in Scientology terms “supervised”
as Hubbard’s course materials do all the talking, and the supervisor adds
nothing by way of explanation or comment. He meets the confused student’s
queries with, “What do your materials state?” This is supposed to ensure that
Hubbard’s materials are not altered by personal interpretations.

The Comm Course helps people to hide, though not overcome,
their nervousness, and to look people “right in the eye.” It also inculcates
persistence with questions until they are answered. It can have a positive
effect, generating self-confidence. Of course, people on the receiving end
sometimes feel intimidated. Critics of Scientology usually mention the
“relentless stare” which for the great majority of Scientologists is habitual.

After completing the Comm Course, I was allowed a few pounds
against the “Hubbard Qualified Scientologist Course” for all the people I had
brought in. Scientology usually pays a 10 or 15 percent commission for
recruitment. I was already too involved in Scientology to realize I had been
working for the Mission for several weeks without pay.

The Hubbard Qualified Scientologist (HQS) Course packages
many of the basic ideas of Scientology. The student does the Comm Course
Training Routines again, and four additional Training Routines called the
“Upper Indoctrination TRs.” These drill the student to maintain control of
someone through physical contact, but more so through “intention,” or sheer
will power – really by having a very determined approach.

On the HQS course I learned about several of Hubbard’s many
“Scales,” among them the key Scale of Scientology: the “Emotional Tone Scale.”
Hubbard believed that there is a natural progression of emotional states, and
that any individual can be led through these simply by conversation. The whole
idea of Scientology counseling is to permanently raise the Preclear on the
“Tone Scale.” The scale rises from Death through Apathy, to Grief, to Sympathy,
to Fear, to Hostility, to Boredom, to Cheerfulness, to Enthusiasm. Scientology
seeks to take someone who is apathetic, miserable, anxious, or antagonistic,
and make of them someone cheerful and positive.

While on the HQS Course, I had my first stab at “auditing,”
or counseling. A friend and I drilled the procedures using an over-size rag
doll as the Preclear receiving counseling. One of us would be the “Auditor,”
and the other the coach, making verbal responses on the rag doll’s behalf.

Despite painstaking drilling, my first Auditor collapsed
while giving me a session. He was asking me to touch objects in the room, one
by one, and suddenly crumpled against the wall, sinking to the floor in uncontrollable
laughter. The artificial atmosphere of auditing was too much for him. I was
unprepared for this, and felt dizzy and confused. A seasoned Auditor gave me a
“Review,” asking questions about the session and “earlier similar incidents.”
After 20 minutes I felt better. To me it seemed to prove Scientology’s
validity.

Considering myself a Zen Buddhist, I readily accepted
Hubbard’s ideas about reincarnation. He said that during counseling so many
people had spontaneously volunteered “past life” incidents that he had had to
accept it as a reality. Auditing is virtually impossible without such a belief.

By the time I became involved in Scientology, “Clear” was no
longer the ultimate attainment; now there were levels beyond. Hubbard used the
word “thetan” to describe the spirit, the “being himself,” and beyond “Clear”
were the “Operating Thetan” (OT) levels. Here the individual would purportedly
break away from the limitations of human existence. Having completed the “OT
levels” one would be able to remember all of one’s earlier lives, to
“exteriorize” from the body at will and perform miraculous feats.

Such ideas were completely foreign to me. Interest in
psychic abilities is frowned upon in the Zen community as a distraction from
the road to wisdom. What I wanted from Scientology was emotional equilibrium,
so I could win my girlfriend back, make a successful career in the Arts, and
concentrate on achieving Enlightenment. But gradually I was absorbed into the
pursuit of the state of “Operating Thetan.”

By this time I had a fairly well developed picture of
Lafayette Ronald Hubbard. His voice on tape was rich and jocular. Photographs
of Hubbard in Scientology magazines and on the walls of the Mission showed a
smiling man, not a dry philosopher, but a man of action with a tremendous love
for humanity, who had devoted his life to the solution of other men’s ills.
Hubbard seemed to be a true philanthropist; a learned man with a grasp of
science and a comprehension of the mysteries. Hubbard had a sense of humor, and
was given to anecdotes. He was not trying to impress anyone with his intellect;
instead he wanted you to help yourself, and all mankind, by using the subject
he had developed. This view of Hubbard is shared by all devoted Scientologists.

By the summer of 1975 I was coming back onto an even keel.
My life revolved around Scientology, and I had put my ex-girlfriend out of
mind, although the subject had never been addressed in my counseling. I had
abandoned those of my friends who were not interested in Scientology, because
my lifestyle had changed so much, and I had made new friends - all of them
Scientologists.

I had a powerful feeling of comradeship for the Mission
staff, and wanted to become one of their number. I knew that they took only a
day off each week, and worked all the weekday evenings too. From their comments
it was obvious that the pay was very low. Even so, I wanted to work with them.
I was told that I would have to “petition” the Guardian’s Office of the Church
to obtain permission to join the Mission staff and that I would also have to
become more highly qualified in Scientology.

In order to qualify for staff, I would have to do Auditor
training courses which were only available at a “Church of Scientology,” or
“Org” (for “Organization”). The nearest was in Manchester, and was in a
partially condemned building in the Chinese district. Some of the walls had just
been painted purple to try and brighten up the remarkably dingy premises. There
was only one student there. The “Registrar” was too insistent, even
belligerent. He seemed to take an immediate dislike to me. I decided to go to
Saint Hill instead.

1.
   
Hubbard,
Scientology: A History of Man, p.5.