Undercover at the Church of Scientology
Don't tell me you haven't wondered about those "free personality tests"
Mark Brinda
Issue date: 12/2/04 Section: Perspectives
For several weeks, I have been fighting the urge to write a bitter, sarcastic diatribe about my academic experience this quarter. There is one class in particular that makes me so mad that I can hardly stand to attend. But since the professor has cancelled eight of the twenty class sessions, that isn't so much a problem. Let's just say that thanks to this course, my fantasy football team kicks some serious ass this year.
I digress. I have decided that in the last issue of this quarter, I will not vent (any further.) Instead, I will write about one of the best experiences I had this quarter.
As many wise second years have discovered, Tanya Menon's Power and Influence course has no homework, no midterm and no final. The only graded assignment is a group paper on a person or organization, past or present, that has gained tremendous power and influence. My group paper was on the Church of Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard.
For a variety of reasons, my role in the group was to be the guinea pig. Specifically, I volunteered to go to the Church of Scientology and see what they do to make people give them loads of money and believe that we descended from space aliens. I would go take the personality test and the stress test and talk about Dianetics and see what all the fuss is about.
The following is a blow-by-blow account of my little field trip:
The COS in Lakeview is on Lincoln near Wellington and Southport. It has the customary blue Scientology awning, but also has a window display facing the street that features pumpkins, Thanksgiving decorations and other 'normal' stuff. A sign near the entrance says "Help Wanted; Now Hiring."
I entered the building and was immediately greeted by a heavy-set woman in her late thirties who was seated at a desk no more than five feet from the front door. She greeted me enthusiastically and asked what brought me into the center. Somehow, she knew without asking that I was not a member of the clan.
I told her that my friend in California had gotten one of their stress tests and that he had encouraged me to go get one as well. And since I lived right around the corner, I figured, why not?
She told me that she'd be glad to arrange that for me and called someone on the phone at her desk. I had a seat in the leather couch at the center of the room. As I waited for someone to come give me the stress test, I began to take in my surroundings. The place was not church-like at all. There was a "library" filled with multiple copies of about 40 different titles. About 4 to 6 pictures of the good L. Ron adorned the walls. A large banner read "You CAN make IT happen" and there were numerous scenes depicting COS members doing charitable things (e.g. helping at ground zero). About five people were in the center, looking busy and productive.
After a few minutes, a man in his mid-twenties came out to greet me. He introduced himself as Dave and said he'd be giving me the stress test. While I waited for him to get the equipment, I was supposed to start taking the "free personality test." The test he gave me consisted of 200 questions to which I could respond "Yes, almost all of the time", "Mabey, sometimes or I don't know", or "No, almost never." The questions were, for the most part, normal sounding (e.g. "Do you have a hard time falling asleep?", "Do you usually let others take the lead on group projects?", "Do you lie often?")
When Dave returned, I went with him to a room in the back of the center and sat down at a table. He began to show me the stress meter, a device about the size of a toaster with several knobs and one gauge that looked like a voltmeter. It looked to be designed by the team that illustrated the Jetsons. To take the test, I had to hold on to two hollow metal cylinders, one in each hand, that were connected by wires to the stress meter. This was supposed to create a circuit that would allow current to flow from the stress meter, through my body and back to the meter.
Dave told me to think of something that was causing me stress. After about two seconds, the needle on the meter to went all the way to the right of the gauge, indicating high levels of stress. I told Dave that I had not yet thought of anything and he replied that the mere mention of stress was causing me to feel stressful. He said he would turn the meter down a bit and try again.
Once again, he told me to think of something causing me stress and once again the meter went off before I could think of anything. He gave me the same explanation and again turned the device down to a lower level. This time, I thought of something that was definitely not causing me stress: schoolwork. When the meter went off again, I told Dave what I was thinking and he began to ask proofing questions about why my schoolwork might be causing me stress.
Dave then said that we would do the "pinch test", if I didn't mind him pinching me. I agreed and he proceeded to give my hand a pinch of medium strength. The meter went off. He then told me to recall the moment of the pinch. The meter went of again. Three more times, I recalled the pinch and the meter went off.
Dave then launched into a discussion of the science and technology developed by Hubbard that underlies the stress test. He began to use words like "preclear" and "auditor" that mean nothing to me. As he talked, I let my mind wander.
Still holding the metal cylinders, I began to think of some genuinely stressful situations: what if I were in Falluja being fired upon by Iraqi insurgents? at my grandmother's funeral? in a car accident? Not once did the needle move.
Dave finished his spiel and told me to finish the personality test. After about twenty minutes, I finished the test and went to find Dave. He took the test and went to his computer to input the results. He came back with a printout, a single page with a line graph containing ten data points.
We sat back down at the table in the back room and Dave began to go over the test results. He explained each data point, telling me what the point measured generally and what my score meant. The score on each point was within a range of -100 to 100. The test measured the following ten aspects of my personality: stable-unstable, happy-depressed, composed-nervous, certainty-uncertainty, active-inactive, aggressive-inhibited, responsible-irresponsible, correct estimation-critical, appreciative-lack of accord, comm level-withdrawn. Everything about the test seemed pretty normal and quite scientific.
What Dave told me about myself was generally true. Although he was simply reading from a book to interpret the meaning of each data point, his responses were quite clear when I asked for further clarification. The test was very well designed and administered...no traces of little green men. If I had not been biased against the whole process, it would likely have convinced me that there were some aspects of my personality that the COS could help me improve.
We then went into the library where Dave showed me some of the COS literature. He recommended one book that people generally read first as well as Dianetics. He proceeded to show me some of the other books, videos and home-study kits that were available. I saw a credit card reader on one of the bookshelves. I thought that this is when the hard sell would come.
Dave then asked me what I had heard about the COS. I told him that I hadn't heard much, but that some people had told me that it was shady. I, however, had reserved judgment since I had never learned anything firsthand. He applauded my attitude and said that people didn't know what they were talking about. Still, no hard sell.
He told me more about how Scientology is the only religion that truly exists for the sole purpose of making the world a better place. That the principles outlined in the books and seminars are not dogma, but guidelines for self-discovery. He told me that what he has learned in the ten years that he'd belonged to the church had really helped him deal with the death of his father as well as the simple challenges of daily life. Still, no hard sell.
I told Dave that I had better get going as I was already late to an optometrist appointment. He told me that if I liked, I could get the book he recommended at a local bookstore?! I thanked him and said I'd probably see him soon. The lady at the desk said a cheerful good-bye as I walked out.
During my visit, there was absolutely no pressure to buy or join anything. Who knows if people from the COS will begin showing up at 3112 N. Southport looking for a Mark Brindo. Perhaps they will try to close the deal by phone. I suspect that they will not. My opinion is that the COS uses this highly persuasive introduction to get unbiased, vulnerable people to come to them for help. They wait for individuals to come back asking to buy books or take classes, etc. and then start the pressure. Not until you bring yourself past the point of no return can they bring the hard sell.
* * *
Well, that's all for now, folks. I'll miss you all next quarter while I'm in Cape Town for IBEP. Enjoy the snow...and look for the upcoming Tales of an American in Africa.
I digress. I have decided that in the last issue of this quarter, I will not vent (any further.) Instead, I will write about one of the best experiences I had this quarter.
As many wise second years have discovered, Tanya Menon's Power and Influence course has no homework, no midterm and no final. The only graded assignment is a group paper on a person or organization, past or present, that has gained tremendous power and influence. My group paper was on the Church of Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard.
 |
For a variety of reasons, my role in the group was to be the guinea pig. Specifically, I volunteered to go to the Church of Scientology and see what they do to make people give them loads of money and believe that we descended from space aliens. I would go take the personality test and the stress test and talk about Dianetics and see what all the fuss is about.
The following is a blow-by-blow account of my little field trip:
The COS in Lakeview is on Lincoln near Wellington and Southport. It has the customary blue Scientology awning, but also has a window display facing the street that features pumpkins, Thanksgiving decorations and other 'normal' stuff. A sign near the entrance says "Help Wanted; Now Hiring."
I entered the building and was immediately greeted by a heavy-set woman in her late thirties who was seated at a desk no more than five feet from the front door. She greeted me enthusiastically and asked what brought me into the center. Somehow, she knew without asking that I was not a member of the clan.
 |
I told her that my friend in California had gotten one of their stress tests and that he had encouraged me to go get one as well. And since I lived right around the corner, I figured, why not?
She told me that she'd be glad to arrange that for me and called someone on the phone at her desk. I had a seat in the leather couch at the center of the room. As I waited for someone to come give me the stress test, I began to take in my surroundings. The place was not church-like at all. There was a "library" filled with multiple copies of about 40 different titles. About 4 to 6 pictures of the good L. Ron adorned the walls. A large banner read "You CAN make IT happen" and there were numerous scenes depicting COS members doing charitable things (e.g. helping at ground zero). About five people were in the center, looking busy and productive.
After a few minutes, a man in his mid-twenties came out to greet me. He introduced himself as Dave and said he'd be giving me the stress test. While I waited for him to get the equipment, I was supposed to start taking the "free personality test." The test he gave me consisted of 200 questions to which I could respond "Yes, almost all of the time", "Mabey, sometimes or I don't know", or "No, almost never." The questions were, for the most part, normal sounding (e.g. "Do you have a hard time falling asleep?", "Do you usually let others take the lead on group projects?", "Do you lie often?")
When Dave returned, I went with him to a room in the back of the center and sat down at a table. He began to show me the stress meter, a device about the size of a toaster with several knobs and one gauge that looked like a voltmeter. It looked to be designed by the team that illustrated the Jetsons. To take the test, I had to hold on to two hollow metal cylinders, one in each hand, that were connected by wires to the stress meter. This was supposed to create a circuit that would allow current to flow from the stress meter, through my body and back to the meter.
Dave told me to think of something that was causing me stress. After about two seconds, the needle on the meter to went all the way to the right of the gauge, indicating high levels of stress. I told Dave that I had not yet thought of anything and he replied that the mere mention of stress was causing me to feel stressful. He said he would turn the meter down a bit and try again.
Once again, he told me to think of something causing me stress and once again the meter went off before I could think of anything. He gave me the same explanation and again turned the device down to a lower level. This time, I thought of something that was definitely not causing me stress: schoolwork. When the meter went off again, I told Dave what I was thinking and he began to ask proofing questions about why my schoolwork might be causing me stress.
Dave then said that we would do the "pinch test", if I didn't mind him pinching me. I agreed and he proceeded to give my hand a pinch of medium strength. The meter went off. He then told me to recall the moment of the pinch. The meter went of again. Three more times, I recalled the pinch and the meter went off.
Dave then launched into a discussion of the science and technology developed by Hubbard that underlies the stress test. He began to use words like "preclear" and "auditor" that mean nothing to me. As he talked, I let my mind wander.
Still holding the metal cylinders, I began to think of some genuinely stressful situations: what if I were in Falluja being fired upon by Iraqi insurgents? at my grandmother's funeral? in a car accident? Not once did the needle move.
Dave finished his spiel and told me to finish the personality test. After about twenty minutes, I finished the test and went to find Dave. He took the test and went to his computer to input the results. He came back with a printout, a single page with a line graph containing ten data points.
We sat back down at the table in the back room and Dave began to go over the test results. He explained each data point, telling me what the point measured generally and what my score meant. The score on each point was within a range of -100 to 100. The test measured the following ten aspects of my personality: stable-unstable, happy-depressed, composed-nervous, certainty-uncertainty, active-inactive, aggressive-inhibited, responsible-irresponsible, correct estimation-critical, appreciative-lack of accord, comm level-withdrawn. Everything about the test seemed pretty normal and quite scientific.
What Dave told me about myself was generally true. Although he was simply reading from a book to interpret the meaning of each data point, his responses were quite clear when I asked for further clarification. The test was very well designed and administered...no traces of little green men. If I had not been biased against the whole process, it would likely have convinced me that there were some aspects of my personality that the COS could help me improve.
We then went into the library where Dave showed me some of the COS literature. He recommended one book that people generally read first as well as Dianetics. He proceeded to show me some of the other books, videos and home-study kits that were available. I saw a credit card reader on one of the bookshelves. I thought that this is when the hard sell would come.
Dave then asked me what I had heard about the COS. I told him that I hadn't heard much, but that some people had told me that it was shady. I, however, had reserved judgment since I had never learned anything firsthand. He applauded my attitude and said that people didn't know what they were talking about. Still, no hard sell.
He told me more about how Scientology is the only religion that truly exists for the sole purpose of making the world a better place. That the principles outlined in the books and seminars are not dogma, but guidelines for self-discovery. He told me that what he has learned in the ten years that he'd belonged to the church had really helped him deal with the death of his father as well as the simple challenges of daily life. Still, no hard sell.
I told Dave that I had better get going as I was already late to an optometrist appointment. He told me that if I liked, I could get the book he recommended at a local bookstore?! I thanked him and said I'd probably see him soon. The lady at the desk said a cheerful good-bye as I walked out.
During my visit, there was absolutely no pressure to buy or join anything. Who knows if people from the COS will begin showing up at 3112 N. Southport looking for a Mark Brindo. Perhaps they will try to close the deal by phone. I suspect that they will not. My opinion is that the COS uses this highly persuasive introduction to get unbiased, vulnerable people to come to them for help. They wait for individuals to come back asking to buy books or take classes, etc. and then start the pressure. Not until you bring yourself past the point of no return can they bring the hard sell.
* * *
Well, that's all for now, folks. I'll miss you all next quarter while I'm in Cape Town for IBEP. Enjoy the snow...and look for the upcoming Tales of an American in Africa.