If there is any concept central to Scientology, and known to all Scientologists, it is that of "Keeping Scientology Working." Fundamental to that concept is that "the technology" of Scientology is 100% workable, and infallible, and if it ever seems not to work or be correct, the fault is in the misapplication or misunderstanding of it, not in the tech itself. Failure in any way to fiercely uphold each and every point of Keeping Scientology Working (he lists 10) ranks with the worst crimes possible in Scientology, including murder, mayhem, and publicly resigning, as I'm doing here. Point #3 is "Knowing [the technology] is correct."

This was a problem. "The technology" included every word L. Ron Hubbered ever scribbled or blathered, except where and as he himself corrected it in a later writing or speech (after all, it was a new and developing science--as long as he was the only "scientist" involved). Well, these were claims that stood. They were, absolutely, "the tech." But they were bullshit, no matter what anyone said. They could not be, yet they had to be.

And that is the beginning of how a mind pulled itself back from far past the brink and thousands of feet down.

One pinhole pops the whole balloon; I had several. More led to more, and within a few months I was thinking things like, "Gee, you know, I've never actually experienced any 'theta' phenomena that couldn't be explained as coincidence or wishful thinking," and, "Matter of fact, I've never actually seen anybody else do anything 'OT' that couldn't be explained the same way." This increased my discomfort. Everybody around me still took it for granted that all this OT business was as obvious and ordinary as the sun rising at morning. I couldn't talk about it to anybody: I knew I wouldn't be re-convinced without real proof, and doubts equalled severe out-ethics, and trying to convince others of my rightness constituted interfering with their KSW and could earn me an SP declare. And I had the unwelcome suspicion I'd only learn that there really was no proof, that if this stuff really existed, it'd be shown off at every chance.

My dissatisfaction at not being allowed to save the world with my Big Ideas slowly reshaped itself into an unwillingness to devote the rest of my life, which might well be considerably shorter than a billion years, to a technology that might just be entirely specious.

One thing was certain: Things were not going to remain as they were. After dancing all around it, I finally faced up to the necessity of leaving the Sea Org, and I knew that this time it would be for real. I got my ducks, what few ducks I had left, in a row, and made my announcement. If I'd known then what I know now, of course I'd have simply blown and let them declare me. But I didn't, and couldn't. I had a wife; I hoped I might get her to leave the SO with me, but she'd never consider it if I were an SP. More than that, I hoped against hope that I was overlooking something, that there really was a top to the Bridge, that I still had a chance of being OT and flying around without my body and zapping planets and stars and living forever, you know, stuff like that. I wanted to be damn sure before I shut the door on that.

It didn't take me long. I started by looking on the web for any signs of real and verifiable OT powers. That went nowhere, fast. Up to the point I was actually gone, I had never looked at any of the Scientology websites, pro or con, or a.r.s. That was part of the self-policing that any hard-core Scientologist does; premature exposure to the OT III and above materials might kill me or make me horribly ill and seriously mess up my "case"; it would damn sure get me in a world of hurt with the Ethics people, as would reading any "entheta" information. However, once I was safely out the door and out from under the unimaginable oppression that I only noticed when it was gone, I continued up my own "bridge to rationality." For instance, if the OT III materials were so deadly, where were all the bodies? Really, where were they? Where were the epidemics of pneumonia with each new illicit publication? Why weren't those pesky critics dying off on their own, why did OSA have to bother with them? Could it be that (the possibly still awesome but now definitely suspect) Hubbard had made yet another mistake? I decided to see.

So I took the red pill (Matrix fans, please explain this to your uninitiated friends). I went to www.xenu.net and searched out the Seeecrut Scrrrriptures. There they were, and in LRH's own handwriting. Hmmm. Nothing too outlandish here, sounds about like what I've been reading and hearing since I was nearly raw meat. Is this what the furor was over? It didn't answer any questions for me, except that I didn't seem to be dying from reading it or anything. It was neither more nor less likely to be true than the rest of the space opera stuff Hubbard put out for 35 years in the name of scientific research. Would I have to go on wandering around with a lit lantern in the daytime?

Fortunately, no. I soon came upon Peter Forde's article, "A Scientific Scrutiny of OT 3." He points out what I at first overlooked: Hubbard got too specific on this one. Forde patiently and painstakingly documents the age of each of the volcanoes listed by name in the OT III materials. And what do you know? Most of them didn't exist 75 million years ago, when they were supposedly serving as sites in which to H-bomb those trillions of unhappy galactic citizens into BTs. I cross-checked his references!) AND there are no leftover traces of the explosions. AND there are no traces of the hundreds of billions of humans who inhabited Earth before the great catastrophe.

I had reached my limit. Some things just can't be explained away. This was the Big Secret I'd spent more than half my life defending, supporting, striving toward, hoping for. This was what waited for me from OT III to the very top of the Bridge. No. This was why there are no goddamn OTs. This was not too weird to be believed--that was normal for Scn, who cared about that? No, it was just plain impossible. The motherfucker was either lying or completely wacko. I didn't care which. I was gone, done with that.

After that I read a whole lot more entheta, and gave it a whole lot more credit than I ever could have done as a Scientologist. That doesn't mean I believe every random gripe or claim: you don't have to be a Scientologist to be a liar, although it helps. I formed a very different picture of my former religion. Yes, I do call it a religion, albeit a very strange one. Calling it a religion is not complimentary, however. It merely acknowledges what Scientologists admit when they want special treatment, privileges, and protections from governments, as opposed to money from new suckers: that it is NOT scientific, that it does NOT get results, that it is based only on BELIEFS that cannot be proven and must not be tested, that it has no concrete value and merely fills a "spiritual" [emotional] need in its parishioners.

That the beliefs are weird beyond imagining is irrelevant. That they're dead wrong is irrelevant. That the official church is evil and deceptive and disgusting is irrelevant. Lots of respectable religions have that in their past. That some of the practices of Scientology may be harmful is irrelevant. So is snake handling, but it's religious, all right. Scientology's a religion. If you want to say it's also a cult, you won't get any disagreement from me there. If you want to say it's a bizarre, destructive, loathsome religion unlike any religion you're familiar with, I'll give you that, too.

They want to have it both ways: the reconciliation of Science and Religion. Well, they're religious, in a rather unsavory way, but calling Scientology scientific could not be further from the truth. Of course all Hubbard's claims of introducing scientific method to the humanities were pure hogwash. He didn't know scientific method from the Palmer method, and he thought "control group" meant something you do. I've communicated my conclusions to several Scientologists, including my former wife from the Sea Org (she immediately divorced me when I routed out of the SO, and before I left Scientology itself), and, under one or more pseudonyms, several defenders on a.r.s. Of course, not one ever could or would reply to the salient arguments, because those points are indefensible. I could not have successfully argued those points myself, at my most committed, and I was a pretty clever arguer.

What now?

Well, I'm living life, my own life, really for the first time ever, since kids rarely have lives entirely their own and SO members never do. It's great. I love it. It's like being a brand new high school graduate, only with more belly and less hair. The world is my clam, I mean oyster. I'm having fun, I got myself a real job, and I can't complain. Much. I wouldn't say I've been permanently harmed by Scientology, if you don't count the 25 years hornswoggled out of me, the loss of my otherwise devoted wife, disconnection by relatives and friends, a complete lack of any job experience or training worth anything to anybody, and probably a couple other adversities I may have forgot to mention. You know, the usual stuff.

What do I think about losing my lifelong dream of infinite godlike powers? How about, "Good riddance to bad lunacy!"? Without the rose-and-shit bifocals, reality is just swell, thank you very much.

I should add that, in their own pathetic way, my astonished and disbelieving fellow SO members treated me with what passes in Scientology for decency and respect while I was routing out. I was never physically restrained, badgered, or yelled at. I got plenty of sleep. I ate reasonably well. I was never coerced into working, although sometimes I did do some light work, just to be nice. I even kept on getting the same miserable SO allowance I'd been getting before. If I hadn't been leaving town and declined their help, they would have insisted on making sure I had a job and a place to live, before cutting me loose. On the negative side, I was watched 24 hours a day, and I was expected to remain on the Scn property unless I had approval to go out, which usually required some special reason.

My sec checking proceeded at an average of one hour a day (less than 12 ½ per week is "out tech"), and didn't start till a week and a half after I requested to leave. I knew (and was told) I would be declared SP, if I left without undergoing the whole routine. I knew what being SP would entail, including losing my wife (whom I lost anyway merely by quitting the SO), friends, and some relatives, and the very real possibility of fair game treatment despite all their claims to the contrary. I knew that part of the routine I needed to comply with to keep from getting declared SP was to sign documents stating that I was under no duress or threat, giving up my right of free speech concerning all Scn entities and any right to litigate against them.

That, for them, is apparently pretty good behavior on their part. A big improvement. Maybe they're learning.

So why am I now doing what should get me declared SP, after going through all that effort to avoid it? Well, it needs to be done. I want my position and reasoning known; it's unlikely to reach or affect any hard-core Scientologists, but I feel obligated to offer it in case there are any who may on the verge of thinking freely. More realistically, if I can get the truth to minds not yet lost to reality, I may help prevent their loss. I do this for entirely selfish reasons, in the objectivist sense: I'm emphatically not an altruist, but I recognize the potential worth of any human to me, and if by sharing knowledge I can increase that worth or prevent its loss, then I have gained.

What about the other concerns? My wife and ex-friends were all SO and lost to me anyway; ex-SO members are mainly despised by SO members, who are forbidden to maintain contact with them. The relatives--well, that remains their choice and responsibility, not mine. As for Fair Game: (1) I may not be important enough to bother with; professional harassment isn't free, you know, and OSA clampower is severely limited; (2) they may be hoping to keep me relatively quiet; what I could say about them might not be devastating, but it would certainly be embarrassing; and (3) hey, give them the benefit of the doubt: maybe fair game really is being curtailed; they certainly haven't directly messed with me yet, even after I revealed that I was no friend and made a direct appeal to my ex-wife to get the hell out of Scn and offered to help her; maybe they'll keep it that way. What about it, OSA? You leave me alone, and I won't have any harassment to report. Sound fair? I won't lie about you.

Take care, all, and happy new year.

Dan Garvin

aka Rip Van Winkle: I went hunting one day, encountered some strange characters playing a strange game, drank their brew, fell asleep, woke up 20 years later.

Original Link