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Part 4: Reaching into Society
Church Seeks Influence in Schools, Business, Science
Scientology and the Schools
- Concerned Businessmen's Association of America
- Applied Scholastics
Converting the Business World
- World Institute of Scientology Enterprises (WISE)
- Sterling Management Systems
- Singer Consultants
Scientology and Science
- Foundation for Advancements in Science and Education
- HealthMed Clinic
- Target: Firefighters
Emerging from years of internal strife and public scandal, the Scientology
movement has embarked on a sweeping and sophisticated campaign to gain new
influence in America.
The goal is to refurbish the tarnished image of Scientology founder L. Ron
Hubbard and elevate him to the ranks of history's great humanitarians and
thinkers. By so doing, the church hopes to broaden the acceptability of
Hubbard's Scientology teachings and attract millions of new members.
The campaign relies on official church programs and a network of groups run
by Scientology followers. Here is a sampler of their activities:
Scientologists are disseminating Hubbard's writings in public and private
school classrooms across the U.S., using groups that seldom publicize their
Scientology connections.
In the business world, Scientologists have established highly successful
private consulting firms to promote Hubbard as a management expert, with a goal
of harvesting new, affluent members.
Scientologists are the driving force behind two organizations active in the
scientific community. The organizations have been busy trying to sell government
agencies a chemical detoxification treatment developed by Hubbard.
The Scientology movement's ambitious quest to assimilate into the American
mainstream comes less than a decade after the church seemed destined for
collapse, testifying to its remarkable determination to survive and grow.
In 1980, 11 top church leaders — including Hubbard's wife — were imprisoned
for bugging and burglarizing government offices as part of a shadowy conspiracy
to discredit the church's perceived enemies.
Today, Scientology executives insist that the organization is law-abiding,
that the offenders have been purged and that the church has now entered an era
in which harmony has replaced hostility.
But as the movement attempts to broaden its reach, evidence is mounting that
Hubbard's devotees are engaging in practices that, while not unlawful, have
begun to stir memories of its troubled past.
Scientology and the Schools
The Scientology movement has launched a concerted campaign to gain a foothold
in the nation's schools by distributing to children millions of copies of a
booklet Hubbard wrote on basic moral values.
The program is designed to win recognition for Hubbard as an educator and
moralist and, at the same time, introduce him to the nation's youth.
The pocket-size booklet, entitled "The Way to Happiness," is a compilation of
widely agreed upon values that Hubbard put into writing in 1981. Its 96 pages
include such admonitions as "take care of yourself," "honor and help your
parents," "do not murder" and "be worthy of trust."
The booklet notes in small print that it was written by Hubbard as "an
individual and is not part of any religious doctrine."
But Scientology publications have called the campaign "the largest
dissemination project in Scientology history" and "the bridge between broad
society and Scientology."
Scientologists estimate that 3.5 million copies have been introduced into
4,500 elementary, junior high and senior high schools nationwide. Altogether,
more than 28 million copies have been translated into at least 14 languages and
distributed throughout the world.
The booklet is distributed by the Concerned Businessmen's Association of
America, an organization not officially connected to the church but run by
Scientologists.
The Scientology connection is downplayed by the group. Its leader, Barbara
Ayash of Marina del Rey, said she launched the association after five of her
children became involved with drugs.
Her group runs a nationwide contest encouraging students to stay off drugs by
following the precepts in Hubbard's booklet. Participants in the "Set a Good
Example" contest must come up with projects using the booklet as their guide. By
focusing on the drug issue, the association has won the backing of school
officials and political figures unaware of its links to Scientology.
In Louisiana, a junior high school distributed Hubbard's booklet to students
and then had them pledge in writing:
"I promise to do my best to learn, practice and use the 21 points of good
moral conduct contained in 'The Way to Happiness' book to improve myself, set a
good example for my friends, and to help my family, my community and my
country."
As an incentive to get campus administrators on board, the association awards
$5,000 to the winning elementary, junior
high and senior high schools.
At contest awards ceremonies, the winners and Hubbard's book share the
spotlight.
For example, during a ceremony at the Charleston, W.Va., civic center,
then-Gov. Arch Moore and other dignitaries were each presented a leather-bound
copy of "The Way To Happiness."
Scientology critics contend that the contest is being used to enlist new
church members, who, as the theory goes, may be so inspired by "The Way to
Happiness" that they will reach for Hubbard's other writings. They argue that
the booklet's distribution in public schools violates constitutional mandates
separating church and state.
But Ayash of the businessmen's association insists that her group has no
motive other than to help children lead better lives. "The Way to Happiness,"
she said, shows them the path in simple, direct language.
For the most part, school officials whose campuses have participated in the
contest said they were unaware of Hubbard's Scientology connection or that his
followers were directing the contest. They said Scientology was not openly
promoted and they did not regret taking part.
But one California public school system recently banned the contest after
administrators conducted an investigation and learned that Hubbard was the
author of Scientology's doctrine.
For three years, students at El Capitan Middle School in Fresno participated
in the nationwide contest. In Spring, 1989, the students won second place for
organizing an anti-drug relay in which they passed each other a symbolic "torch"
— Hubbard's booklet.
Deluxe leather-bound copies were presented to mayors of the 15 cities along
the relay route.
Last fall, the contest's sponsors decided to accelerate their efforts in
Fresno County, urging the entire 5,000-student Central Unified School District
to participate, instead of just one school. But they ran up against Geoff
Garratt, the district's director of educational services and personnel.
Garratt said that, while he was aware of Scientology, he had never heard of
Hubbard. He said he learned of the connection at the local library, where he
went to investigate Hubbard's background.
"The more I investigated," Garratt said, "I found it (the businessmen's
association) represented a very small self-interest group: Scientology." Among
other things, he said, he discovered that the association had the same phone
number and address as the local Dianetics center.
Garratt said he rejected the association's plea to expand the contest,
fearing that the booklet's distribution in the public schools might violate
constitutional prohibitions against mixing matters of church and state.
Garratt said the association refused to consider the possibility of holding
the contest without Hubbard's booklet. "They said flat out, 'Without the book,
there is no contest.'"
Scientologists also are attempting to install a Hubbard tutorial program in
public schools, using a church-affiliated organization called Applied
Scholastics.
Yellow posters advertising Applied Scholastics have appeared in storefront
windows throughout Los Angeles. They promise better learning skills but make no
mention of the church.
Applied Scholastics currently has plans to build a 1,000-acre campus, where
the organization would train educators to teach Hubbard's tutorial program. A
recent Applied Scholastics mailer predicted that the training center will be a
"model of real education for the world" and "create overwhelming public
popularity" for Hubbard.
Developed for students of Scientology, the Hubbard program is built upon an
elementary premise: learning difficulties arise when students read past words
they do not understand.
"The misunderstood word in a subject produces a vast panorama of mental
effects and is the prime factor involved in stupidity," Hubbard wrote in 1967.
"This is a sweepingly fantastic discovery in the field of education."
The chief solution he propounds is simple: students must learn to use a
dictionary when they encounter an unfamiliar or confusing word.
In recent years, Applied Scholastics has
targeted predominantly minority schools, where many students tend to do poorly
on standardized tests. Applied Scholastics considers these schools fertile
ground because campus administrators are willing to try new approaches to
improve scores.
The Compton Unified School District in 1987 and 1988 allowed the Hubbard
program to be tested with 80 students at Centennial Senior High School. The
program there was run by a substitute teacher named Frizell Clegg, a
Scientologist who was an Applied Scholastics consultant.
Clegg, who refused to be interviewed, was suspended from his teaching duties
in 1988 after he reportedly gave discourses on Scientology in a history class.
He no longer teaches at the school.
In applying for district financing, Clegg said the educational program was
"developed by American writer and educator L. Ron Hubbard." Excluding any
reference to Hubbard's Scientology connection, he persuaded the board to provide
$5,000 to tutor 30 sophomores with low
reading scores and to conduct a parent workshop.
After the program grew to 50 students, Applied Scholastics submitted a
proposal increasing the number of students to 125 and the cost to $27,000.
District officials killed the program, believing that Applied Scholastics was
seeking to expand too quickly. Officials were also displeased that the group,
without district approval, was using its involvement with Centennial to market
the program elsewhere, according to Acting Supt. Elisa Sanchez.
In promotional literature, Applied Scholastics made claims of remarkable
success at Centennial High. While some parents said the program helped their
children, Sanchez said the claims made by Applied Scholastics were
unsubstantiated.
Converting the Business World
Scientology is using a network of private consulting firms to gain a foothold
in the U.S. business community.
The firms promise businessmen higher earnings but appear to be mainly
interested in recruiting new members for the church.
Although these profit-making firms operate independently of each other, they
sell the same product: Scientology founder Hubbard's methods for running a
profitable enterprise. The Church of Scientology has for years employed these
same methods — heavy marketing, high productivity and rigid rules of employee
conduct — to amass hundreds of millions of dollars for itself.
Critics contend that the consulting firms are concealing their Scientology
links so they can attract to the church prosperous people who might otherwise be
put off by Scientology's controversial reputation.
The strategy appears to have proven effective.
A Scientology publication in 1987 reported that the consultant network earned
a combined $1.6 million a month selling
Hubbard's management methods to a variety of professionals, many of whom have
reported improved incomes. It also said that 50 to 75 businessmen were recruited
monthly into the church, where each week they spent a total of $250,000 on Scientology courses.
Two of the movement's firms have been ranked by Inc. magazine as among the
fastest growing private businesses in America.
The consulting firms use seminars and
mailers to attract health professionals, salesmen, office supply dealers,
marketing specialists and others.
Those who have dealt with the firms describe the process this way:
Businessmen are drawn into Scientology after they have gained confidence in
Hubbard's non-religious management methods. They are often told that, to achieve
true business success, they should get their personal lives in order. From
there, the church takes over, encouraging them to purchase spiritual enhancement
courses and begin a process called "auditing."
During auditing, a person confesses his innermost thoughts while his
responses are monitored on a lie detector-type device known as the E-meter.
Auditing must be purchased in 12 1/2-hour chunks, costing between $3,000 and $11,000 each, depending on where it is bought.
Spearheading all this is an arm of the church called World Institute of
Scientology Enterprises, or WISE.
In recent months, WISE has been encouraging Scientologists nationwide to
become consultants within their respective professions. The appeal is simple:
make money while disseminating your religion.
In the process, WISE profits, too. It trains and licenses the firms to sell
Hubbard's copyrighted "management and administrative technology." WISE charges
roughly $12,000 for its basic no-frills
training course. For consulting services, it charges $1,875 a day.
On top of this, the consulting firms that sell Hubbard's business methods
must pay WISE 13% of their annual gross income.
At the heart of Hubbard's business system is a concept he called "management
by statistics," which he said guarantees optimum office efficiency. Scientology
critics maintain, however, that it creates an oppressive and regimented
workplace environment.
An employee is judged solely upon his productivity, which is charted on a
graph each week. Sagging productivity could bring a rebuke from the boss. Or it
could lead to an employee's firing.
The management techniques promoted by the consulting firms are identical to
those used by the church, except that all Scientology references have been
deleted from the materials. The consultants even employ the most basic
instrument used by the church to recruit new members off the street — a
200-question personality test that purports to let people know if they have
ruinous personality flaws.
The consultants encourage businessmen and their employees to purchase
Scientology courses to remedy personality problems uncovered by the test.
One of the most successful consulting firms licensed by WISE is Sterling
Management Systems, which targets dentists and other health care professionals.
For the past two years, Inc. magazine has ranked it among America's
fastest-growing privately held businesses.
Sterling, based in Glendale, claims to be the "largest health care management
consulting group in the U.S."
A company spokesman said the firm charges clients $10,000 for its complete line of Hubbard
courses and 30 hours of private consultation. The spokesman said Sterling has
helped dentists increase their income an average of $10,000 a month.
He insisted that the company has "no connection" to the church, but added:
"If people are interested in Scientology, we will make it available to them."
Sterling publishes a tabloid called "Today's Professional, the Journal of
Successful Practice Management." Mailed free to 300,000 health care
professionals nationwide, it is filled with "management" articles by Hubbard
that are actually excerpts from Scientology's governing doctrines.
The company also holds nationwide seminars that, according to its promotional
literature, have been drawing 2,000 people a month.
Sterling Management was founded in 1983 by Scientologist Gregory K. Hughes,
at the time a prosperous dentist in Vacaville, Calif. Hughes holds seminars
across the country, offering himself as evidence that Hubbard's methods work.
In promotional publications for Sterling, Hughes has said that his annual
income soared from $257,000 in 1979 to more
than $1 million in 1985. In one month
alone, he has claimed to have seen 350 new patients.
Sterling's paper, Today's Professional, has boasted that "the techniques that
produced amazing results when applied to Greg's practice are being applied all
over the U.S."
But neither the paper's readers nor those who attend Hughes' seminars are
told that his dental office, which employed the high-volume Hubbard techniques
that he imparts to others, has been accused by former patients of dental
negligence and malpractice.
Hughes currently is under investigation by the California Board of Dental
Examiners. The board already has turned over some of its findings to the state
attorney general's office, which will determine whether action should be taken
against Hughes' dental license.
To date, there are more than 15 lawsuits pending against Hughes and his
dental associates, alleging either negligence or malpractice. He has denied the
allegations.
Attorney E. Bradley Nelson is representing most of those who have sued
Hughes.
"It is my opinion," he said, "that the overall quality of care took second
place to the profit motive…. I've never seen anything approaching this volume of
complaints against one dentist in such a short period of time."
In mid-1985, Hughes closed his office without warning to devote full time to
Sterling. He left behind a reputation so tarnished that he was unable to sell
his million-dollar-a-year practice, according to dentists in the area.
"He actually had to walk away," said Roger Abrew, co-chairman of the peer
review committee of local dental society.
He also left behind patients with worse problems than they had before they
were treated by Hughes' office, according to Abrew and other dentists, who have
since been treating them. The dentists said that, based on their examinations,
Hughes' office performed both substandard and unnecessary work.
"I think its kind of ironic to see a guy who did such a botched job of
dentistry teaching others," said dentist David C. Aronson, summing up the
sentiments of most of his colleagues in the small Northern California community.
Hughes, who continues to conduct his "Winning With Dentistry" seminars,
refused to be interviewed for this story. But Frederick Bradley, an attorney
defending him in the lawsuits, suggested that the Vacaville dentists may simply
resent his client's success because their patients had deserted them for Hughes.
Another firm once licensed by Scientology's WISE organization to sell
Hubbard's management techniques was Singer Consultants. Before it merged with
another management company, Singer was ranked as one of the nation's fastest
growing private businesses.
The company focused its training on America's chiropractors. It brought
hundreds of new members into the church and triggered a nationwide controversy
among chiropractors over its links to Scientology. In fact, a chiropractic
newspaper devoted almost an entire issue to letters praising and condemning
Singer Consultants, which was located in Clearwater, Fla., where Scientology is
a major presence.
"We felt that there were young doctors who didn't know they were being
solicited to do something above and beyond the practice of their profession,"
said Dynamic Chiropractic editor Donald M. Peterson, explaining why his
Huntington Beach-based newspaper entered the controversy.
Singer Consultants was headed by Scientologist David Singer, an accomplished
speaker and chiropractor who held nationwide seminars to pitch Hubbard's
business methods.
Two years ago, the company was absorbed into another management firm owned by
Scientologists.
Although Singer refused to be interviewed by The Times, he told Dynamic
Chiropractic: "Hubbard was a prolific writer and wrote on a multitude of
subjects. We do not, have not and will not make part of our program the teaching
of any religion."
Scientology and Science
Hubbard was so proud of a detoxification treatment he developed — and so
hungry for plaudits — that he openly talked with his closest aides about winning
a Nobel Prize.
Although the man is gone, Scientologists are keeping the dream alive. They
have embarked upon a controversial plan to win recognition for Hubbard and his
treatment program in scientific and medical circles.
The treatment purports to purge drugs and toxins from a person's system
through a rigorous regimen of exercise, saunas and vitamins — a combination
intended to dislodge the poisons from fatty tissues and sweat them out.
Physicians affiliated with the regimen have touted it as a major
breakthrough, and a number of patients who have undergone the treatment say
their health improved. But some health authorities dismiss Hubbard's program as
a medical fraud that preys upon public fear of toxins.
In the Church of Scientology, the treatment is called the "purification
rundown." Church members are told it is a religious program that, for about $2,000, will purify the body and spirit. In
the secular arena, however, Scientologists are promoting it exclusively as a
medical treatment with no spiritual underpinnings. In that context, it is simply
called the "Hubbard Method."
The treatment is being aggressively pushed in the non-Scientology world by
two organizations that sometimes work alone and sometimes in tandem. They have
no formal church ties but both are controlled by church members.
Seeking customers and credibility, the two groups have targeted government
and private workers nationwide who are exposed to hazardous substances in their
jobs. They have pressed public agencies to endorse the method, lobbied unions to
recommend it and written articles in trade journals that seem to be little more
than advertisements for the treatment.
One of these groups is the Los Angeles-based Foundation for Advancements in
Science and Education. The nonprofit foundation has forged links with scientists
across the country to gain legitimacy for itself and, thus, for Hubbard's detox
method.
Among its key functionaries is a toxicologist for the Environmental
Protection Agency, whose advocacy of the treatment has raised
conflict-of-interest questions.
Building credentials and allies, the foundation has channeled tens of
thousands of dollars in grants to educators and researchers studying
toxicological hazards, most of whom were unaware of the organization's ties to
the Scientology movement.
In 1986, for example, the foundation gave $10,000 to the Los Angeles County Health
Department for a study of potentially harmful radon gas. County officials say
they were not apprised of the organization's links with the Scientology
movement.
Bill Franks was instrumental in creating the foundation in 1981 when he
served as the Church of Scientology's executive director, a post from which he
was later ousted in a power struggle. Franks described the foundation in an
interview as a Scientology "front group."
"The concept," he said, "was to get some scientific recognition" for
Hubbard's treatment without overtly linking it to the church.
Buttressing Franks' account, the foundation's original incorporation papers
state that its purpose was to "research the efficacy of and promote the use of
the works of L. Ron Hubbard in the solving of social problems; and to
scientifically research and provide public information and education concerning
the efficacy of other programs."
The document was later amended, however, to remove Hubbard's name, obscuring
the foundation's ties to the Scientology movement and its founder in official
records.
Hubbard's name, however, continues to appear regularly in the foundation's
slick newsletter. In the latest edition, for instance, three different articles
advocate the "Hubbard method" as an effective therapy for chemical and drug
detoxification.
A fourth article did not mention Hubbard by name, but reported favorably on
Narconon, his drug and alcohol rehabilitation program, which is run by
Scientologists.
The other organization in the outreach effort is HealthMed Clinic, which
administers Hubbard's treatment from offices in Los Angeles and Sacramento and
is run by Scientologists.
An independent medical consultant in Maryland who reviewed the program for
the city of Shreveport, La., dismissed Hubbard's treatment as "quackery."
The foundation and HealthMed have attempted to create an impression that they
are linked only by a shared concern over toxic hazards. In reality, however,
they operate symbiotically.
The foundation, for its part, tries to scientifically validate the Hubbard
method through studies and articles by individuals who either are Scientologists
or hold foundation positions. HealthMed then uses the foundation's credibility,
writings and connections to get customers for the treatment.
According to state corporate records, the foundation also holds stock in
HealthMed. Moreover, the foundation's vice president, Scientologist Jack
Dirmann, has served as HealthMed's administrator.
In 1986, four doctors with the California Department of Health Services
accused HealthMed of making "false medical claims" and of "taking advantage of
the fears of workers and the public and about toxic chemicals and their
potential health effects, including cancer." The doctors also criticized the
foundation for supporting "scientifically questionable" research.
The state physicians, who evaluate potential toxic hazards in the workplace,
leveled the accusations in a letter that triggered an investigation by the state
Board of Medical Quality Assurance. That probe was concluded last year without a
finding of whether the detox treatment works. Investigators said they were
stymied by HealthMed's refusal to provide patient records and by a lack of
complaints from those who had undergone the regimen.
The four physicians who prompted the investigation said they decided to study
the Hubbard treatment after receiving calls from union representatives, public
agencies and individual workers throughout the state who had been solicited by
the clinics. Among them were the California Highway Patrol, the International
Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, Pacific Gas & Electric Co. and the Los
Angeles County Fire and Sheriff's departments.
"It was the accumulation of these calls that led us to say, 'Hey, this is
going on all over the state. Let's look into it,'" recalled Gideon Letz, one of
the doctors.
The foundation and HealthMed have worked particularly hard to tap one large
pool of potential clients: firefighters. The Hubbard method has been pitched to
them as a cure for exposure to a carcinogen sometimes encountered during fires.
Known as PCBs, the now-banned chemical compound was once widely used to insulate
transformers.
City officials in Shreveport, La., said they paid HealthMed $80,000 — and were ready to spend a lot more —
until they hired a consultant, who denounced the treatments as unnecessary and
worthless.
What happened in Shreveport is a case study of how the foundation and
HealthMed have worked together to draw customers through methods that critics
contend are exploitative.
In April, 1987, dozens of Shreveport firemen were exposed to PCBs when they
responded to an early morning transformer explosion at the Louisiana State
University Medical Center. In the aftermath, some began to complain of
headaches, dizziness, skin rashes, memory loss and other symptoms that they
attributed to the exposure.
Blood and tissue tests by the university medical center showed no abnormal
levels of PCBs in their systems. But the firemen wondered if the university was
trying to protect itself from liability because the explosion had occured there.
Searching for alternatives, one of the firemen came across an article in Fire
Engineering magazine. Headlined "Chemical Exposure in Firefighting: The Enemy
Within," it was written by Gerald T. Lionelli, "senior research associate for
the Foundation for Advancements in Science and Education."
Lionelli discussed the frightening consequences of chemical exposure and then
got to the point. He said the foundation had found an effective detoxification
technique developed by "the late American researcher L. Ron Hubbard" and
delivered by HealthMed Clinic.
The article did not mention another of Hubbard's notable developments —
Scientology.
The firemen contacted HealthMed, and, before long, were sold on the program.
They went next to Howard Foggin, then the city's medical claims officer, and
gave him HealthMed literature and a Washington, D.C., phone number the clinic
had provided them. It was for the office of EPA toxicologist William Marcus.
Marcus, a non-Scientologist, is a senior adviser to the foundation. But it is
his authoritative position with the EPA's office of drinking water that helps
impress potential HealthMed clients.
When Shreveport officials called Marcus, he vouched for HealthMed. The EPA
had spoken, or so the city's claims manager thought back then.
"All he told me was, it seemed I had no alternative but to send those people
to Los Angeles" for HealthMed's treatment, Foggin said, adding: "I felt I had to
get moving on it fast."
In an interview with The Times, Marcus acknowledged that he recommended
HealthMed, but he denied any conflict of interest.
"They called me and I talked to them," Marcus said. "I told them that
basically there was no other game in town…. I think L. Ron Hubbard is a bona
fide genius."
Marcus said he receives only travel-related expenses for the foundation work.
His boss, Michael Cook, said he is satisfied that Marcus did not act
improperly. He said that Marcus has insisted "he made it clear that he was not
speaking as an EPA employee. Certainly that is what we would hope and expect he
(would) do."
In all, HealthMed brought about 20 Shreveport firefighters to Los Angeles to
treat what the clinic described as high levels of PCBs in their blood and fatty
tissues. For the most part, the firemen returned home saying that they felt
better.
Although city officials had learned of Hubbard's Scientology connection, they
were unconcerned.
Then, as HealthMed's bills mounted, two private insurance carriers for
Shreveport suggested that city officials hire an independent analyst to review
the treatment before doling out more money. The city agreed and commissioned a
study by National Medical Advisory Service Inc., of Bethesda, Md.
The report, prepared by Dr. Ronald E. Gots, was an indictment of HealthMed's
professionalism and ethics. The bottom line:
"The treatment in California preyed upon the fears of concerned workers, but
served no rational medical function…. Moreover, the program itself, developed
not by physicians or scientists, but by the founder of the Church of
Scientology, has no recognized value in the established medical and scientific
community. It is quackery."
Gots' 1987 report ended the city's involvement with HealthMed.
"I think we were misled," lamented city finance director Jim Keyes. "Somebody
should have laid everything out on the table."
Neither HealthMed nor the foundation would return phone calls from The Times.
Courting the Power Brokers
- From politicians to the leaders of business, the courts and the media,
- the
church works to win allies to smooth the way for expansion.
To create a favorable environment for Scientology's expansion, church
executives are working to win allies among society's power brokers and opinion
leaders.
It is a theme expounded in church publications.
"We need to be able to approach the right people in order to get things
done," wrote Heber Jentzsch, president of the Church of Scientology
International, in the newspaper Scientology Today. "We need to to find out how
to reach key people in the media, in government, in the control points of
society, the people who run things."
Underscoring the campaign's breadth and determination, a pull-out
questionnaire entitled "Communication Lines to the World" was inserted in the
newspaper. It asked Scientologists to list their connections to people in six
areas:
POLITICS: "This would be political figures on a local, state or national
level, such as local city officials, mayors, governors, senators, congressmen,
and members of parliaments. It would also include government agency officials
and civil servants."
MEDIA: "This would be any media terminals that you know, such as owners or
proprietors of magazines, newswire services, newspapers or publishing houses, TV
and radio networks or stations and publishers and editors of any type of news
media."
LEGAL: "This would be any judges, law enforcement officials, lawyers,
barristers and so on."
FINANCIAL / CORPORATE: "This would be any members of the board or presidents,
vice presidents or other senior officials/executives with banks or other
financial institutions (such as savings and loan companies, credit unions, etc.)
financiers (this could be government or private industry) stockbrokers,
financial advisers and commodities brokers."
ENTERTAINMENT / CELEBRITIES: "This would be any producers or directors in the
stage, motion pictures or television; actors, artists, writers and any opinion
leaders in these areas."
OPINION LEADERS: "This would be anyone who is respected by or who influences
the opinion of individuals in the above categories."
While developing support in the secular community, Scientology has also been
working hard to gain support from mainstream religious figures.
Spearheading this effort is the Religious Freedom Crusade, a Scientology
group that has attracted officials of various faiths. The crusade's rallying cry
is that court actions brought against the Church of Scientology by disaffected
members or government agencies pose a constitutional danger to all religions.
In 1988, Scientologists mustered a multidenominational coalition to push a
bill through the California Legislature requiring judicial approval before
religious groups or nonprofit organizations can be sued for punitive damages.
The Church of Scientology had a special interest in the legislation: It has
been ordered at least twice to pay huge punitive awards to ex-Scientologists,
although one award was reduced on appeal and the other was set aside.
Scientologists not sure how to recruit religious allies got some tips in a
document provided to The Times by an ex-member, who said it was distributed at a
Scientology meeting in the mid-1980s.
The document suggested that Scientologists, after selecting an appropriate
church, should attend Sunday services and praise the minister: " 'Your sermon
was brilliant! Would you be willing to speak at our church?' (He'll have a hard
time refusing that one!)."
It advised them to establish good communication with the minister's wife
because "she can be an ally or an enemy and you want her support if possible."
After the service, "make friends with other congregation members," the
document added. "… Circulate, but be sure to spend a few minutes with the
minister and to meet his wife and family…. If you haven't gotten the minister's
phone number earlier, get it before you go."
Finally, the document urged, get the ministers to write a notarized affidavit
or letter stating that "Scientology is a bona fide religion."
- The "Org Board": Hubbard's Plan for Improving
- on "80
Trillion Years" of Management
A key element of the management techniques Scientologists sell to businessmen
is L. Ron Hubbard's "organizational board."
Used also by the Church of Scientology, the "Org Board" divides an
organization into seven divisions — executive, personnel, sales, finance,
training, marketing and qualifications. Each division's duties are spelled out,
along with the basis for evaluating employee performance.
In describing the Org Board's virtues, Scientology consultants omit Hubbard's
colorful account of its origins — an account reminiscent of one of his science
fiction tales.
During a 1965 lecture to Scientologists in England, Hubbard said his board is
a refined version of one that was used for "80 trillion years" by an "old
galactic civilization."
Hubbard said the civilization died (he did not say when) because its
organizational board lacked one division that he incorporated into his
modern-day version.
Declared Hubbard: "We don't want these temporary fly-by-night affairs!"
Foundation Funds Provide Assist to Celebrated Teacher Escalante
The Scientology movement's Foundation for Advancements in Science and
Education has befriended one of America's most celebrated teachers, Jaime
Escalante of Garfield High School.
Escalante is the East Los Angeles teacher profiled in the hit 1988 film
"Stand and Deliver," which chronicled his success in teaching advanced calculus
to barrio students.
During the last few years, the foundation has provided Escalante with tens of
thousands of dollars for computers, audiovisual aids, tutors and scholarships.
In addition, the foundation has solicited contributions from major corporations
to help Escalante's Garfield High mathematics program grow in size and
sophistication.
In fact, the foundation has been Escalante's primary benefactor.
He is now teaming up with the foundation to develop a series of 12
educational videos for distribution by the Public Broadcasting System. Called
"Futures," the series is intended to motivate students by showing them the
relevancy of math in the workplace. The foundation's president will be the
executive producer, while Escalante will be host of the series.
Escalante says he was unaware of the foundation's links to Scientology. "No,
no," he said, "they (foundation officials) never mentioned that name." But, he
added, it makes no difference.
"From my point of view," he said, "I really don't mind what they are. The
only thing I care about is that they help my students, my kids. That's my main
goal."
The foundation, for its part, has not been reticent about publicizing its
support of Escalante. Its promotional literature regularly includes photographs
of Escalante in his classroom or standing side-by-side with beaming foundation
executives.
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