When I was in Los Angeles last summer, I took the Scientology personality test at the famed Church of Scientology Information Center building right on Hollywood Boulevard. It’s a pristine white and mahogany building nestled incongruously between a Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum, a 4-star Indian restaurant, a Starbucks and the acclaimed Hollywood Egyptian Theater.
I was sequestered in a small testing room where I took a 200-question personality test called the Oxford Capacity Analysis (OCA), followed by a 30-minute aptitude test called the Novis Mental Ability test and another shorter exam testing my cognitive reflexes. At the end of the examination, I sat for a one-on-one consultation where a Church of Scientology representative went over my results, which included a graphical representation of my OCA profile. According to the Church’s metrics, my personality scores fell in the low “ATTENTION URGENT” range, the range in which Scientologist teachings would cause a great numerical improvement. I was also informed of my terrible mental reflexes, and that my only saving grace as an overall profile was my higher-than-average IQ (not to flex).
The representative had to step out momentarily to speak with another employee. In that 30-second window, I bolted out the back exit until I reached the Hollywood/Vine Subway station. To add another layer of depth to this story, I did this whole thing with my partner at the time, because I guess we thought it would be a good date idea. We saw Six the Musical afterward at the Pantages Theatre. The tonal shift of that evening was ridiculous.
Now, the history of Scientology and the biography of its founder L. Ron Hubbard is worth several books and documentaries of its own. In short, a former science fiction author published a book called "Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health" as a set of practices aimed at healing mental disorders in the height of public mistrust about psychiatric therapy. The core idea of dianetics is that everyone has a rational, sound “analytical mind” that is often compromised by our “reactive mind,” haunted by what are called “engrams,” a type of mental picture from former memories that are thought to be the cause of all hardship. In dianetics, a process of “auditing” allows the individual to get “clear” of these engrams. Central to the process is the electropsychometer, or “e-meter,” which a Scientology minister employs to assess an individual’s mental state in response probing questions, similar to a lie detector.
Dianetics became an instant sensation in the 1950s. In response to concerns from the FDA on its scientific validity (there was and has been very little scientific evidence supporting dianetics), Hubbard founded The Church of Scientology in 1952, turning dianetics from pop-psychology to a religious practice. While the current number of Scientologists is unknown, a 2007 article by journalist Kevin Collison reported 10 million practicing individuals worldwide, including 3.5 million in the U.S. Scientology is probably best known for attracting celebrities like John Travolta, Elizabeth Moss and Tom Cruise, the last of whom’s recent Paris Olympics closing ceremony appearance made headlines for its “weirdness” and “cult of personality” undertones.
Most people view Scientology as a joke, a community practice that somehow feels disgraceful to both science and religion at the same time. A 2012 poll reported that 70% of Americans don’t think Scientology is a real religion, and almost any scientist you talk to will refuse Scientology as scientific. It’s also known for being ridiculously expensive, costing upwards of $300,000 to reach its highest levels. So what gives Scientology its cult following and devotional belief around a pseudo-medical practice?
While there are several answers to the aforementioned question, I believe a large part of it boils down to neuroessentialism. Neuroessentialism is the reliance on viewing mental conditions as purely biological phenomena. While neuroessentialism has proven incredibly useful in driving advances in neuroscience research and empowering neurodiversity movements, the argument quickly goes too far when we start viewing “bad behavior” as a solely neurological shortcoming rather than a nuanced, interconnected and usually societal issue.
The hyper-individualism of Scientology’s hack-your-mind-change-the-world rhetoric can easily serve as a form of scientifically-based gaslighting that absolves the accountability of institutions and/or relationships in creating mental hardship. When you’re taught that your brain is the sole cause of your suffering, it can problematize one’s fundamental being. Scientology also views many chronic illnesses and pain conditions as purely psychosomatic (meaning it arises from excessive anxiety and stress over a physical infection, injury or disability), which can be incredibly harmful to those with those conditions.
Scientology’s neuroessentialist perspective is reinforced by its view of the brain as a purely computational object. Scientology sees the brain as a memory bank where auditing through e-meters functions as a physical “deprogramming” of these engram reserves. Dianetics is portrayed to work mechanistically which contrasts with the narrative of nonlinearity and gentleness framed around today’s cognitive behavioral therapy. Being strapped to an e-meter is invasive, aggressive and creates an illusion of accuracy in its operation. And Scientology’s impact on an individual is measured quantitatively in a reductionist sense. After all, you’re given a 2D graph of your personality and told to expect it to “increase” through the practices of Scientology.
Neuroessentialism is so alluring because it provides a concrete, tangible explanation for something as illogical and ineffable as human behavior; it provides a sense of control in everyday mental turmoil. We’re always taught the only thing we can control is how we respond to situations, and Scientology offers a flashy model of doing so. Most people believe in the importance of science, and most people have a religious practice. Scientology can feel like this momentous connection between the two, a bridge between science and the spiritual, a biological essentialism to questions often regarded to be supernatural. But bringing an essentialist argument into a spiritual intervention is more fertile ground for psychiatric abuse than it is for self-transcendence.
Neuroessentialism is an increasingly prevalent topic at the core of everything from international cults to mental health research. How much can changing our brain truly change our behavior? When will we see ourselves beyond a neurological essence when it comes to the alleviation of mental hardship? For now, it is safe to say that the expensive practices of Scientology will do little to alleviate said hardship, and the search for the intersection between psychiatry and the divine will continue. In the meantime, perhaps viewing the psychometric assessment tools of Scientology with a lens of curiosity and detached cynicism can be an intriguing, even entertaining way to spend an afternoon.
Nik Narain is a Trinity senior. His column typically runs on alternating Saturdays.
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