Sporkful #1

Part 1

When I was a young student of Scientology – I don’t recall what Scientology course this was on and it isn’t important – I came across Hubbard’s technical definition of “communication”. “Communication” was part of the formal study checksheet, so I had to demonstrate my grasp of the term to pass the course. The definition was:

... the consideration and action of impelling an impulse or particle from source point across a distance to receipt point, with the intention of bringing into being at the receipt point a duplication of that which emanated from the source point.

I guess I must have been frowning or shaking my head as I read this because the Course Supervisor walked over and asked, “What’s happening?” I said I didn’t really get the definition. What was this business about an “impulse” a.k.a a “particle”?

A _particle_ is the thing being communicated. It can be an object, a written message, a spoken word or an idea. In its crudest definition, this _is_ communication.

The Course Sup wanted to know whether there was any word there I didn’t understand.

“It’s not that,” I naively replied, and launched straight into an objection.

“Let’s say the particle is an object like a button or a piece of chalk. Impelling the button or the chalk over a distance from a source point to a receipt point is an easy thing to understand. But why does that count as “communication”? That’s not communicating, it’s just tossing an object about.”

“Okay...” said the Sup in a noncommittal tone.

“Also, how can anybody “duplicate” a piece of chalk? You can duplicate a memo or some information, but not some chalk.”

“Why don’t you make a clay demo?” the Sup suggested.

I remember playing with the clay for a while, making two crude figures and a little ball labelled “Particle” and so on, until the Sup said “Pass.”

Later on the Sup walked over again and asked me what was happening.

“It’s this particle thing again. Here’s what I don’t see. The two of us are communicating now, right?”

I waited a beat.

“... Right,” said the Sup, finally taking the cue.

“Okay,” I acknowledged. “Now where’s our particle? I don’t see it anywhere, do you?”

The Sup said he couldn’t answer my question as that would be “verbal tech.” But perhaps I should go back and look for misunderstood words. (Hubbard taught that disagreements are often founded in simple linguistic misunderstandings.) I did so for a while, but soon found myself thinking only of further difficulties for Hubbard’s notion of communication.

Suppose the particle is an idea: then how could it make sense to impel the idea “over a distance”? On Hubbard’s view the physical universe is comprised exclusively of matter, energy, space and time. But an idea is none of those things. An idea is something abstract, like a number. It’s nonsense to talk of an idea being, say, located at this position or five or ten foot distant. As an analogy, no meaning attaches to the claim, “The number seven is in Idaho.” The same is true of an idea. Ideas can certainly be communicated, only not in a straightforward _spatial_ way: yet this was what Hubbard’s definition required.

This was the dilemma for Hubbard and his accounts of “communication” and “particle”. Either the particle involved in the communication is a physical thing like an everyday object or a written message, or it’s something abstract like an idea or a spoken word. If the particle is a physical object, it makes sense to speak of impelling it over a distance, but that can’t count as any sort of “communication” worth the name. (Delivering a letter is not the same activity as communicating its contents.) If the particle is something ideal like a thought in someone’s mind, that’s the sort of thing which might properly be communicated, but then space and distance have no relevance. (Later I would learn to state Hubbard’s mistake this way: the definition introduced _category error_, in this case predicating the physical of the abstract and vice-versa.)

Lastly it was open to doubt that communication ever really involves any particle in any sense – even some sense not contemplated by Hubbard. When I asked the Sup rhetorically, “Where’s our particle?” he was not only unwilling, but I suspect totally unable, to supply any.

Hubbard’s definition, then, was implausible. As I sat there I felt inclined to reject it as a wrong account of communication.

Then I made a crucial mis-step.

I told the Course Supervisor so.

This is where my story – my first “Sporkful” -- really begins.

Part 2

By “Sporkful” will hereafter be meant a bite-sized portion of the opinions of Spork. As I write this, though, I’m finding even a Sporkful is more than I can scoop out at a time or (probably) will fit into a vBulletin message. So I’m going to subdivide these postings into numbered parts whenever I come to a convenient break in the narrative.

As the young Spork sat before the Course Supervisor’s desk, soup cans lightly in hand, I was again quizzed for misunderstood words. I thought it shouldn’t take long as the relevant part of Hubbard’s definition of “communication” contained only 28 unique words. In the event I held the cans for what seemed like forever. It was probably only an hour or so but to a youngster that’s forever.

“The thing is,” I finally made bold to say, “it’s not that I don’t grasp the definition. It’s that I don’t agree with it.”

“I can see that,” the Sup retorted with a hint he was tiring of humouring me. “I can see this isn’t real for you.”

Somehow this concession made me bolder still.

“Oh, that’s not quite it either. It’s no question of ‘real’. It’s that the definition looks wrong. Communication, so far as I can tell, hasn’t got a lot to do with particles and impelling them duplicatively over distances.”

“Let me show you something. Don’t move.” The Sup got up, pulled out a reference and propped it up in front of me:

What is true is what is true for you. No one has any right to force data on you and command you to believe it or else. If it is not true for you, it isn’t true. Think your own way through things, accept what is true for you, discard the rest. There is nothing unhappier than one who tries to live in a chaos of lies.

The reference, of course, was in The Way to Happiness. A few moments later I was allowed to put down the cans. This ended my conversation with the Course Supervisor about Hubbard’s communication theory.

[Tru2form]

In the twenty years since I left Scientology I’ve had some time to think about that line from The Way to Happiness: “What is true is what is true for you.” The phrase is the main subject of this Sporkful.

Superficially – and in the context of the quote – it can seem as though Hubbard is advancing a quasi-libertarian principle governing the teaching of Scientology. Affecting a magnanimous tone he writes:

No one has any right to force data on you and command you to believe it or else. ... Think your own way through things, accept what is true for you, discard the rest.

One thing is a bit strange however. There should be nothing unusually libertarian or magnanimous in Hubbard’s confirmation that no one has a right to command you to believe something.

This is like a motorist solemnly promising a pedestrian he will not run him over.

It’s perfectly obvious Hubbard (like any other Scientologist) has absolutely no right to “force data” on anyone. Who would have thought otherwise?

(If anyone does find something disarming or unexpected about this generous permission to “Think your own way through things,” that bespeaks a prior expectation that Scientology is _not_ so liberal. No comment on whether that expectation is justified.)

Instead what seems to be happening in the quote from The Way to Happiness is that Hubbard is backing away from objectors. At the least he’s saying he doesn’t propose to try to convince anyone who disagrees with him.

This turning away from discussion informs Scientologists’ use of the phrase, “What’s true is what’s true for you.”

Actually their use of the phrase seems to be simply as an all-purpose conversation-stopper no matter who says it or why.

In Parts 2 and 4 we came across two uses of “What’s true is what’s true for you.”

The Course Sup appealed to the phrase to say it wasn’t his place to discuss of the content of the Tech, beyond some word clearing and clay demos.

That’s not to say the Sup conceded something was wrong with Hubbard’s definition of “communication”. No such concession was made. Instead he just observed my disagreement and quite even-handedly let study continue.

Nonetheless all conversation ended there.

My half-brother Barry used the “What’s true is what’s true for you” phrase to insist, as if by brute force, on Hubbard’s theory of communication no matter how implausible that theory was made out to be.

His aim was to put an end to a conversation he was finding increasingly vexatious.

In colloquial English there’s a one-word sentence with the same conversational use the Scientologists have for “What’s true is what’s true for you.” A good English translation is

Whatever.

Think Hubbard’s definitions are cracked? Whatever. Don’t believe there are any OTs? Whatever. No such xeno as Xenu? Whatever.

Substitute for “Whatever” the phrase “What’s true is what’s true for you” and it’s clear these have identical conversational uses. A Scientologist who points to that passage from The Way to Happiness might as well be Whatevering you, it’s equally dismissive of the conversation.

Henceforward I’ll refer to Hubbard’s maxim “What is true is what is true for you” as his Whatever Phrase.

[Grundy]

[RLSteve]

I love your story about refuting the communication definition.

One of the things I've realized since leaving Scientology is that words really don't have any intrinsic definition to them. Everybody is going to have a different interpretation on what a word means. Therefore... 100% duplication really isn't possible when these "communication particles" go from a source-point to a receipt-point.

Curious, in Scientology, is there a difference between reality and truth?

Hubbard says, "What's true for you is what's true for you." But, reality is also defined as, "Whatever is agreed upon between people."

But, different groups of people have different agreements on what is real.

In Scientology, is there any such as thing as ABSOLUTE reality or ABSOLUTE truth that defies any individual reality or group reality?

According to the Scientology Handbook, "When words are understood, communication can take place, and with communication any given subject can be understood."

The inference becomes - if you don't understand what you are reading/hearing, there is a word there that you don't understand. If you aren't getting it, clear the words and re-read it until you do get it.

I take issue with that premise. Sometimes texts and other tools of study are factually incorrect or so poorly written that they cannot be understood. Sometimes they hold unspoken meanings, or simply lack meaning.

Just as a simple example, ambiguities can exist in a sentence that make the meaning unclear:

I will bring my bike tomorrow if it looks nice in the morning.

Joe was in court fighting a ticket for parking his car in a restricted area. The judge asked him if he had anything to say in his defense. "They should not put up such misleading notices", said Joe. "It said, FINE FOR PARKING HERE."

What did Woodsy the Owl mean when he said:

"I found a smoldering cigarette left by a horse."

"This is the worst disaster in California since I was elected." --California Governor Pat Brown, discussing a local flood

These are silly but hopefully they begin to illustrate the point: Sometimes knowing the meaning of the individual words will not ensure understanding of a *particle* of communication.

As far as the 'whatever' statement goes, yeah , I'm glad no one is going to cram a piece of data down my throat.

The statement acknowledges a break in reality between two people who are trying to communicate, and then leaves it unresolved, like the popular "we'll agree to disagree".

The thing with the 'Whatever' statement is that to me, the way it is used does imply a rightness and wrongness. If it is not true for you, there is a condescending implication that it is just beyond you right now. Maybe when you've reached a higher level, you'll be able to understand that this *is* true.

When looked upon as a heretic for not locking step with "What is Written", I like this and think maybe it deserves more play -

"Those things I tell you are true, are not true because I tell you they are true. And if anything I tell you, or have ever told you, is discovered to differ from the individual observation...then it isn't true! It doesn't matter whether I said it was true or not!" L. Ron Hubbard, from Scientology & Effective Knowledge

Hey, I agree to agree!

Matters are worse.

Disagreements between people – in view of the Whatever Phrase – now appear to have no real solution. People can only “agree to disagree”. Everyone has their own truth-for-them and that’s the end of it.

That might superficially sound like a happy world.

Happy until one looks more closely at the sorts of disagreements which might arise and on which there could be no useful discussion.

People like to think they’re right, at the very least about highly personal matters which peculiarly concern their own inner lives. Their tastes for example.

Ordinarily we think that someone’s tastes – say in music, art or food -- are a subjective affair about which that person is an authority. Someone whose favourite ice cream is pistachio is normally entitled to maintain “My favourite ice cream is pistachio” – and be right.

Not “right for them.” Simply right.

But bringing in the Whatever Phrase complicates what used to be a straightforward situation.

One might rhetorically put it this way. When each person has their own truth-for-them -- on _any_ issue, even a subjective one of personal taste -- what’s so special about the truth for _you_? What makes the truth for you -- even a truth-for-you which directly and peculiarly concerns you -- any more important than someone else’s truth-for-them which says the _opposite_ about you?

Compare:

the truth for person A about something private (subjective) to person A
the truth for person B about something private (subjective) to person A

By the Whatever Phrase, these two truths-for can come apart outrageously. Even the most intimate and idiosyncratic facts about yourself gain no special protection from the Whatever Phrase.

Is this an unanticipated result?

As an example, the sentence (spoken by you) “My favourite ice cream is pistachio” can be true for you. But by the Whatever Phrase it’s possible for me say to you directly, “Your favourite ice cream is vanilla,” and this can be true for me. At the same time.

Ridiculous?

As far as the warranted use of the Whatever Phrase goes there’s nothing to prevent this ridiculous situation from happening. The Whatever Phrase licences no distinction between these as respects their truth-for-someone.

What then was the point of introducing the Whatever Phrase?

Apparently its effect is the total nullification of claims to personal certitude. Yet this was just what the Whatever Phrase at first sight appeared to assert.

The problem is not only that assuming the Whatever Phrase makes it harder for people to communicate as a practical business.

Personal certainty about personal matters is suddenly at risk.

The truth-for-you about private, subjective matters – such as a matter of taste -- is no longer privileged the way it ought to be.

Something is going wrong in the background of the Whatever Phrase.

Its conversational use is as a one-sentence discussion-stopper—that’s bad enough. But when we turn to the components of the phrase – including the notion of truth and the thought that truth is what’s the truth _for_ someone – that’s to say, that truth is person-relative – real trouble brews.

Twenty years on, I’ve come to regard the Whatever Phrase as one of the most confused doctrines in all Scientology. I’ve also come to see this piece of theory as an impediment to the intellectual development of anyone who seriously believes in it.

The Whatever Phrase is not a dangerous idea per se. Rather, its conversational use is a detriment to the advancement of the understanding, and its acceptance as a thesis about truth makes it harder for the individual to converse, argue and exercise his or her reason.

For this last point I’ll have to reintroduce my half-brother Barry.