Scientology vs. the British Army

From	Chris Owen <chriso@lutefisk.demon.co.uk>
Subject	ESSAY: Scientology vs the British Army
Date	1998/12/15
Msg-ID	<nsCHYKACEcd2EwOf@lutefisk.demon.co.uk>
Newsgroups	alt.religion.scientology

I visited an Armed Forces Recruitment Centre in London today (not to join up — I'm already accounted for), which provided an interesting new perspective on Scientology's recruitment tactics. I should add that I've experienced these tactics for myself, having been given the hard sell by the London Scientology org a couple of years ago. So I'm speaking from personal experience here.

My colleagues probably would not thank me for the comparison, but there are parallels to be drawn between the British Army and Scientology. Both organisations are about 100–150,000 strong. Both have a network of recruiting offices across the country (the Armed Forces' being rather more extensive than that of Scientology). Both have a constant need for new recruits, though Scientology's tremendously high churn rate — over 30% annually by its own figures — means that continuous recruitment is necessary just to stand still. Both have global goals (I'm speaking very loosely here) — one to defend the country, the other to save the world. So at the outset, the initial recruiting requirement could be considered quite similar.

That's where the similarities end. The Army produces a wide range of glossy brochures describing in considerable detail the range of jobs available in the Army, and the general life of a soldier. You can get background information about weapons systems (the Army produce a free booklet for just this purpose — called, logically, "The British Army"), try out the Army Challenge CD-ROM, read copies of Army magazines, obtain information about the rate of pay, and so on. At least one Army recruiter is always on hand to answer your questions. They don't attempt to make you hand over any money and don't mind if you say you don't want to join the Army. They're happy to improve your knowledge of Army life and conditions even if you don't have the slightest intention of having anything to do with the Army. It's part of their job description, and they gain or lose nothing financially as a result of your decision. Crucially, they put no pressure on you at all. You can leave, as I did, laden down with brochures and extensive background information. And it doesn't cost a penny or come with any obligations whatsoever.

Scientology's approach couldn't be more difficult [different?]. I know, having experienced it first-hand. There are no glossy brochures — free promotional literature is confined to small leaflets and handouts bearing banal platitudes from the pen of L. Ron Hubbard. If you want information about Scientology, you have to pay for it — either the What is Scientology? reference volume or another Scientology book or even the original Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health. A substantial area of the public foyer of any Scientology org is made up of a book store. I can't explain the procedure any better than does Hubbard:

But little of the publicly available information actually gives much idea of what it is like to work in a Scientology org. The staff certainly will not give you an independent view, as they would face instant discipline if they even hinted at Scientology being anything less than wonderful. Comments by Scientologists about Scientology tend therefore to be banal burbles rather than meaningful insights. To be fair, I don't suppose it's totally different for Army recruiters. They are, after all, trying to recruit you and are probably not very likely to tell you that they are bored with their present work or disgruntled with their superiors.

However, they will at least give you detailed information about the types of work available. Scientology does not. I would like to see what sort of job information they could produce. Just imagine:

It'll never happen, of course. Scientology will tell the potential recruit (charmingly referred to as a "prospect" or, more graphically, as "raw meat") that he or she can aspire to becoming a skilled Scientology auditor. On Scientology's own figures, however, only one out of every ten Scientologists actually does Scientology; the other nine are engaged in various support activities, such as financial management, letter writing, internal discipline, public relations and so on. As the Army would put it, that's a lot of tail for not many teeth. Scientology would have it that its huge administrative structure is a sign of its support for the front-line troops — the auditors — but there's little doubt that any commercial management consultants would have a field day cutting out wasteful bureaucracy and regulations.

The potential recruit will also usually be offered a "Free Introductory Lecture". The nature of this has varied over the years. For a long time it meant a badly-shot, acted and lit promotional film by Hubbard himself, which usually involved afflicted members of the public being oppressed by Germanic-accented psychiatrists before being rescued by Dianetics and Scientology.

Things have moved on a little, with Scientology having discovered proper technical values but unfortunately without having the scriptwriting ability to boot. The usual presentation now shown is a film called "Orientation". It is a frankly hilarious production (it took all my efforts to prevent giving myself away by collapsing into giggles). It ends with a Scientologist, in close-up, staring into the camera lens and intoning words along the lines of: "Scientology is your only hope of survival. Without Scientology you will DIE, again and again, for TRILLIONS and TRILLIONS of years" (emphasis as in the original). If you hadn't realised that you were dealing with a half-baked organisation before watching this film, you certainly would have afterwards.

Although one barrel of the gun may be firing blanks, Scientology's main hook is rather more sophisticated. The Oxford Capacity Analysis or "personality test" is discussed in greater length elsewhere (see http://solitarytrees.net/cowen/misc/am2oca.htm but, in brief, it consists of 200 written questions such as "Are you considered warm-hearted by your friends?" and the distinctly odd "Do you browse through railway timetables, directories or dictionaries just for pleasure?" (yes is good, apparently).

Devised (inevitably) by L. Ron Hubbard, its marking scheme is heavily rigged to produce certain sets of results, as an investigation by the British Psychological Society revealed in 1970s. In my case, I was told that I was badly depressed with a low level of logical reasoning and appreciation, and that my low scores on those aspects were "dragging the rest down". There was obviously someone or something "suppressing" me and I needed to "handle" or "disconnect" from them or it. The solution, I was informed, was to take two Scientology courses costing £48.50 each. When I demurred, I was told increasingly forcefully that my life was a mess and that I would continue to be "ruined" unless I took up Scientology. This approach was straight from Hubbard's instructions:

"TR-1" is "Training Routine 1". A "Tone 40" statement means one that is given with such force that it is irresistible and must be acted upon. Evidently my mind was too badly poisoned by the heady waters of ARS, and I was able to leave the org without having parted with a penny. Much to the disappointment of the recruiter, who would have been paid a commission of 10-15% either in cash or — probably amounting to much the same thing in the end — in Scientology processing. A letter quoted by Sir John Foster in his 1971 report into Scientology gives an insight into the way the organisation motivates its recruiters:

(The AOUK was the Advanced Organisation UK at Saint Hill Manor, East Grinstead; it is now known as the AOSH UK or Advanced Organisation Saint Hill UK).

As the reader will appeciate, the two approaches to recruitment — Scientology's and the Army's (and the other services' too) — are totally different. Scientology gives its recruiters a personal stake in their job. The Army doesn't. Scientology gives away very little detailed information about its activities. The Army does. Scientology expects, indeed demands that you buy its books. The Army doesn't. Scientology bullies, probes and uses the person's own insecurities to pressure him or her into joining. The Army doesn't. Scientology demands that a person join, and goes on and on — either in person or by letter — until it is told to desist, and sometimes doesn't stop even then. The Army doesn't, and is happy for you to make up your own mind in your own time.

So which is the more effective method (means justifying…)? It's hard to tell, as I don't have the figures on the Scientology side to make an accurate comparison. Both methods evidently work, otherwise neither Scientology nor the Army would still be here today. But one clue lies in the retention figures, which Scientology does publish (though its treatment of statistics makes such figures highly suspect). On its own figures, 50% of members drop out after two years or less. Previous editions of What is Scientology? put the figure higher still, and anecdotal evidence suggests that individual orgs can experience staff turnovers of 80% or more in the space of two or three years.

In short, every couple of years Scientology has to recruit a number of people equivalent to anything from half to four-fifths of its entire membership — the latter being around 100–150,000 people worldwide, according to independent estimates. This is a tremendous churn rate, far higher than anything experienced by the Army or indeed any other organisation that I can think of. This suggests that Scientology is relatively good at getting people to sign up but very poor at retention. The Armed Forces, by contrast, are pretty good at retention — as they have to be; a fast jet driver can cost millions of pounds to train and represents an extremely valuable asset to the taxpayer.

Scientology's recruitment and retention profile is, in short, ideal for an organisation which wants to get as much money out of people in as short a time as possible. There's certainly an element of this in the frantic promotion of ever more expensive (and largely useless) courses. But Scientology wants more than just your cash — it wants your commitment to help it to "clear the planet" and establish a Scientological new world order. Yet it clearly fails to do this in any significant way, as attested to by the wavering and often contradictory membership figures which it publishes from month to month.

There are probably a number of reasons why this is so, but it's highly likely that at least one of those reasons is that Scientology's recruitment methods are working against it. The Army does its best to ensure that the recruit is genuinely motivated, is keen and has a good understanding of the commitment he or she is making. Scientology doesn't care about motivation or understanding — it just wants your money and your name on the dotted line. I've seen reports of people buying things from Scientology just to get away from the oppressive atmosphere of the recruiter, and having been there myself I can confirm that I've felt the same pressure. Such an approach is certainly productive in terms of getting a quick buck. But will people recruited that way really feel much of a commitment and understanding of what they're getting into? Many, probably most, evidently do not, and quit as a result.

Scientology vs. the British Army

by Chris Owen