Next in the ongoing series of essays by Terra Cognita. See earlier posts here: The Knowledge Report, Integrity, The Almighty Stat, The Reg, The Horrors of Wordclearing, Why Scientologists Don’t FSM, Respect, The Survival Rundown – The Latest Scam, Communication in Scientology… Or Not, Am I Still A Thetan?, To Be Or Not To Be, An Evaluation of Scientology, Fear: That Which Drives Scientology and Justification and Rationalization.

Auditing: a PC’s Quest for the Holy Grail

I don’t have the perseverance to cover the whole topic of auditing. But here are a few thoughts.

Auditing is Scientology’s version of one-on-one therapy and is a cornerstone of the church. In a typical auditing session, a therapist, or “auditor” asks specific questions to the PC—pre-clear (one who is not yet Clear)—and acknowledges the answer. The questions were formulated by L. Ron Hubbard, and the auditor uses an e-meter to help him locate the past incidents in which to address.

Hooked-up

The e-meter is a device for measuring charge, or repressed emotional trauma, within the mind of the PC. Per LRH, it “measures emotional reaction by tiny electrical impulses generated by thought. The meter tells you what the preclear’s mind is doing when the preclear is made to think of something. The meter registers before the preclear become conscious of the datum. It is therefore a pre-conscious meter. The current is influenced by the metal masses, pictures, circuits and machinery. When the unclear pc thinks of something, these mental items shift and this registers on the meter.”

This electrical circuit is completed via the PC holding two metal cans connected to the meter via a metal cord.

A dial with a big needle registers the PC’s response to questions. If the needle doesn’t react to a question, it is presumed the item or question isn’t “charged,” and the auditor will move on. If the needle reacts at the precise end of the question, the question is charged and there’s something there for the PC to address.

If his needle is “floating” at the end of his answer (“a rhythmic sweep of the dial at a slow, even pace of the needle”), the harmful emotion has been discharged and the auditor moves on to the next question. If the needle is not floating and the PC has nothing more to contribute to the answer, the auditor asks if there is “an earlier, similar” incident. This routine of following long chains of “earlier/similars” can go on indefinitely, down celestial rabbit holes of past lifetimes.

From personal experience and anecdotal evidence, I don’t believe the e-meter does what LRH claimed. I don’t believe the machine really “reads” emotional charge in a PC. If an auditor tells a PC there’s something “there” due to the movement of the needle, more often than not, a PC will find something—whether the incident is real, or invented. In fact, on more than one occasion, my auditor told me he didn’t care if the incident was real or imagined, but to just tell him what I was looking at.

Human beings are wildly creative and imaginative. If it’s suggested that specific incidents are causing Tom’s present time difficulties, he’ll make sure he finds something and has a cognition (“something a pc suddenly understands or feels,” or “a pc origination indicating he has ‘Come to realize’.”

Maybe it doesn’t matter if incidents are real or imagined. Maybe it’s merely enough that Tom believes they are and that by looking them, he’ll “Come to realize.”

The Auditor

LRH defines an auditor as “one who listens and computes,” and “who has been trained in the technology of Scientology.” “An auditor is the person…whose job it is to ask the person [PC] to look, and get him to do so.”

A good auditor has empathy for his PC’s. A good auditor is a counselor and a friend. He’s there to help guide the PC to those incidents causing him problems in present time. A good auditor has the PC’s back.

Most auditors—especially those in advanced orgs—lack these gifts. I see two reasons for their shortcomings.

The first reason is due to having most of the human kindness drilled out of them. Most of the auditors with whom I’ve sat across from have behaved more like robots than humans and lacked the empathy needed to make the connection with the PC in order to facilitate therapy.

A second reason auditors fail is due to the constant demand by their seniors for them to audit ungodly numbers of hours. A good auditor rarely receives a break. Since Missions and Class 5 orgs barely have anyone to audit, this second reason mainly occurs in advanced orgs. The fact that so few auditors are made anymore, contributes to this scarcity, and thus the remaining few are continually asked to do more and more.

This may seem counter intuitive, but per my experience, the more trained the auditor, the worse he is. Field Group, Mission, and org auditors are the best. Those in advanced orgs are the worst.

Why Auditing Works

Talking to another without interruption or evaluation is powerful therapy, and for many, a chance to unburden a lifetime of pent-up pain and suffering. Hubbard certainly didn’t invent this type of treatment. Therapy of this nature had been going on for centuries by the time he arrived on the scene.

I will give Ron credit for organizing a systematic series of questions at the lower level of the bridge. For example, since most people have issues with communication, problems, Overts and Withholds, loss, and trauma, he created series of questions that addressed each of these areas of potential upset—or what he termed, “aberration.”

Why Auditing Doesn’t Work

Auditing fails for a variety of reasons. I’ve already mentioned two: poor auditors, and a reliance on the e-meter—which in my mind, contributes more to failure than success.

LRH created auditing as a “one size fits all” form of treatment. He assumed that all people suffered from similar traumatic incidents that held them back in life. He was right to a certain extent. But at the same time, he left no room for auditors to explore other avenues into the mind of the PC.

Charging ungodly sums of money for therapy is another reason for failure. Spending so much puts tremendous stress and anxiety on, not only the PC, but on his entire family. All but the very rich, worry about how they’re going to pay for their next intensive (12 ½ hours) of auditing. Many have walked away due to the hundreds of thousands of dollars needed to get to the top of the Bridge.

Just like millions of others on this planet, LRH believed in past lives. Many believe the “incidents” dredged up in sessions are merely the result of creative imaginations and that LRH projected his own fantasies onto others (Since he had been to Marcab, so had everybody else).

The most telling yardstick in measuring the effectiveness of auditing, though, is the number of new public coming into Missions and orgs for processing. If auditing worked as flawlessly as LRH claimed, there would be long lines outside the front doors, and his vision of a cleared planet would be well in hand. We all know how that’s going.

The mind is a powerful tool that can be manipulated into performing all kinds of mental gymnastics.

Auditors Are Never Wrong

Per the Auditor’s Code, an auditor promises “not to explain, justify or make excuses in session for any auditor mistakes whether real or imagined.” This has come to mean that no matter how badly they goof up, an auditor will never apologize. They can bungle every command and violate every rule of common decency from here to Emily Post, but the one thing they’ll never do is apologize for making a mistake.

Never saying they’re sorry is only half the story. The other half is: the PC is the one forced to pay for all their mistakes! Often, this demands buying large number of hours at a cost of tens of thousands of dollars.

D of P’s and C/S’s never cop to mistakes, either. In fact, now that I think of it, all Division 4 (Training and Processing) staff are perfect. It’s only the public who aren’t. Don’t think so? You have overts.

Auditing and Drugs

LRH felt that drug use was not only a major cause of aberration in human beings, but one of the major factors leading to the demise of civilization. As such, he addressed incidents of drug use up and down the Bridge: from the Purification Rundown to New Era Dianetics, all the way up to the OT levels.

I dallied in drugs in my youth but never suffered their “restimulative” effects. I never felt negatively affected by any of the times I’d gotten high before I joined the church. I never perceived any marijuana or LSD seeping out of my pores while on the Purification Rundown, and I never experienced relief when addressing drugs in session. For these reasons, I tend to discount auditing directed at this subject.

On the other hand, others have reported substantial wins. Their drug use may have been more pronounced than mine and thus been more affected. I have sat in saunas with people who have sworn that the sweat covering their skin was laced with past drugs.

Rudiments

Before the start of every auditing session, one’s rudiments must be “in.” A rudiment “is that which is used to get the pc in shape to be audited that session.” They include ARC breaks, Present Time Problems (PTP’s), Overts and Withholds, and if your needle isn’t floating when your auditor asks about these, it’s presumed they’re “out” and there’s something there to handle.

As an example, a PC might have a work-related problem preventing him from putting his full attention on his auditing. This would be a PTP and would need to be handled before the formal session could continue.

But, of course, the biggest “out-rud” is always the Withhold. Because everybody has something they’re keeping to themselves—whether it’s as insignificant as having rolled through an intersection without coming to a full stop, or something slightly more noteworthy, like having unprotected sex with the teenager next door.

Being Sessionable—or Not

Being “sessionable,” in Scientology is serious business. LRH said PC’s must be well fed (which includes taking unhealthy amounts of vitamins) and have gotten eight hours of sleep before going in session. The auditor tests this by having the PC “take a deep breath and let it out slowly,” while holding the cans. If the needle falls like it’s supposed to, the PC is ready to go. If the needle doesn’t move enough, the PC’s metabolism isn’t up to par and they can’t go in session. At this point, the auditor and PC go to hilarious lengths to get his metabolism fit.

Some of things PC’s do to get themselves to “metab” include: stuffing themselves with specific foods and vitamins; walking around the block; taking naps; doing jumping jacks; adding more hand cream to their hands in order to facilitate better contact with the cans; etc. Some PC’s chronically fail to metab and have learned to use various tricks to make their needle move appropriately. A good friend told me of the Flag Diet in which so much food is forced on PC’s prior to going in session, they gain ten pounds during every stay.

I always metabed! Ah…the little things in life.

Lists…and Lists…and Lists…and Lists

A Scientology list is just that: a long list of items or questions asked by an auditor to a PC holding the cans. If a particular item “reads,” (the e-meter moves sufficiently to the right at the precise end of the question) it’s taken up by the auditor and PC.

LRH concocted lists for everything but there are two main types. The first is used to find “charged” items (past incidents) to audit. The second is used to find out where things went wrong in session—which in my experience, happens frequently. Way, way too frequently. Pretty much in all sessions.

Probably the most famous list is the L1C, “used by auditors in session when an upset occurs or as ordered by the C/S. Handles ARC broken, sad, hopeless or nattery pcs.” Basically, if a PC isn’t doing well and the auditor or C/S doesn’t know what else to do, they employ an L1C. Somewhere, in some org, I probably have a filing cabinet dedicated solely to my L1C’s.

More often than not, list items that I thought should have read, never did, and conversely, those that did were a complete mystery. Nonetheless, those items that read had to be “taken up” by the auditor. I probably wasted more hours (and thousands of dollars!) “in the chair” by addressing “false reads” than anything else. I suspect others have had similar adventures.

And Finally, The Exam

After every session, PC’s get exams to make sure they’re winning and happy. Just like in auditing, he’s hooked up to an e-meter. In the exam, the machine is operated by an “examiner.” The PC isn’t required to do or say anything to the examiner. He just has to sit there until his needle floats. Which can happen immediately or take excruciating, long minutes of uncomfortable silence.

PC’s go through all sorts of vocal and mental gymnastics to get their needle to float at the examiner. Because if it doesn’t, they’ll be “red tagged” and be required to go back in session within twenty-four hours and have to burn more precious hours.

The truth is, everybody sitting in front of an examiner is withholding something. Whether they think their auditor was stiff, or the process they’re running is a bit whacky, or they think David Miscavige is an SP, everyone is hiding something. And for this reason, everyone is scared that their needle won’t float and they’ll be forced to reveal shit they don’t want to reveal. And be red tagged. And have to go to Qual for Review. Or to Ethics for sec-checking.

I suspect most of you never fully quenched your thirst from the Holy Grail. You might have had a sip or two, maybe wet your lips and tasted the siren call of freedom, but I doubt any drank the whole cup. I never did. I don’t know anyone who has.

Still not Declared,

Terra Cognita