SHSBC 66

MORAL CODES: WHAT IS A WITHHOLD

A lecture given on 4 October 1961

My what a quiet crowd today. Well, a little applause for her. (applause)
I'll put that down on my bill, Suzie. (laughter)
MSH: (unintelligible)
Okay. We have a new student today, Carl Wilson from Riverside, California.
Stand up Carl! (applause).
I'm glad your here.
This is the 4th -
of what?
Audience voice: 4th ...
4th of October.
I wasn't thinking so much about the day. I wanted to make sure you had your
adjustment on the mike because I'm bringing it a little bit closer.
Now if I can remember all this - I mean that seriously ...
By the way, Special Briefing Course, Saint Hill - if I can remember all
this, I'll give you the whole rundown on overt-withhold and how it got that
way, and then you will be much smarter cookies. I mean that. If I can
remember all the put-together, how it goes together. Because, let me tell
you, it's complicated - very, very complicated.
Told you some time ago, this is very apropos to a Class II auditor; this is
part of Class II auditor skills. This should be known and known very well.
This should be understood. And if you're ever going to make anything out of
a Security Check, if you're ever going to get any advances with a Security
Check, you'll have to know this sort of thing.
It is not enough to be able to sit there and say, "Well, have you ever
raped anybody? No? Well, have you ever raped anybody? Good. Have you ever
raped anybody? Good. Have you ever raped anybody? Good." Keeping TR 0 in,
of course!
That has very little to do with Security Checking. Security Checking is not
a repetitive command. You ask the question, you get the answer and you get
off the withhold.
But what's a withhold? What is a withhold? Well, yous just about to find
out. And it's a good thing, too, because I'm saving your bacon in the nick
of time. I come in here, I find Mary Sue tearing your scalps off on the
subject of it, and what have you been up to? Of course, she must have found
somebody auditing on this basis:
"Well, have you ever done anything to a fellow staff member?"
"Well, yes. I heard that Joe went out with Bessie."
Oh, no. Now, your first order of business as an auditor is to get an answer
to the auditing command. And will you tell me how that is an answer to an
auditing command? "What have you done?" "I heard that .." He hasn't done
anything. How can it possibly be a withhold?
I'd put another question: "Have you ever ruined people maliciously by
gossip?" Clang, clang, clang! Yes. Correct, they have.
Do you know people will make up withholds just to get other people in
trouble? And you're going to sit there and let them do it? And you're going
to hear people saying things - people that have heard things about people
who heard things, and they understood that something, and they knew that
so-and-so - and you let them get this off as a withhold?
Well, what auditing time are you wasting? Well, you're wasting your own
time and you're wasting the pc's time. And basically you have demonstrated
that you don't know what a withhold is, but that is excusable up to this
moment. One hour and a half from now it begins to be a crime. See, it's not
a crime for the next hour and a half, but an hour and a half from now, the
cat will be out of the bag. Only in this particular instance, it is a
rather big cat, about leopard size, that is leaping out of a rather big
bag, because this is one of these jackpots that we hit every once in a
while in Scientology.
You know, you pull the lever expecting to get out a couple of quarters, and
florins, shillings, sixpences, so forth, cascade out on the floor for a
half an hour. I mean, that's the sort of a thing which has just occurred
here. And those of you who haven't been to Las Vegas can ask those who have
what I meant.
What's a withhold? What's an overt act? It's important to know these
things.
Mr. Doakes sits down in the auditing chair - because you, of course, being
a pc, don't pay much attention to auditing - he sits there and he says to
you, he says, "Well, I have robbed banks, uh ... murdered women, uh ...
strangled babies, uh ... embezzled it, yes. I uh ... ruined marriages, I
did this and I did that," and you don't get a single knock on the needle.
Oh, you say, this person is not Security Checkable. Aha! But from this
moment on you're going to see that there is no such thing as a non-Security
Checkable person. Because you're going to say that this pc you had is not
capable of registering on the meter, because obviously these are tremendous
things. They're social transgressions against your code of sociality to a
point where, God almighty, he should be shot, put in a straitjacket, given
a pill by a medical doctor - most horrible things happen to him. Why?
Because, look, he's robbed banks and murdered women and so forth, and you
don't get a single knock on the E-Meter.
You say, "Well, the man is conscienceless, therefore he has no withholds."
Aha, and that's right - against your moral code, he has no withholds,
because they were not transgressions to him.
Now, your task in doing a Security Check is to get off withholds. But what
is a withhold? What is a withhold? Now, you could say grandly, "It is what
the preclear is withholding." You could say, as we have been saying about
an overt act, "What is an overt act? An overt act is what the thetan thinks
is an overt act. Therefore, if I do not think I have committed an overt act
as I strangle this person or that," you see, "then I have not committed an
overt act," you see?
No, those are not adequate replies, and those are not adequate definitions,
and those are not adequate answers, and they do not add up to useful,
workable definitions in the field of auditing. I think you will agree with
me that you, yourself, have been puzzled about this.
How is it that one person gives you some kind of a stuff and it's not a
withhold, and yet says, "Well, I ... I looked down the road." You know,
it's clang! You know, you got clang!
And you say, "What did you do? What is that?"
"Well, I looked down the road," and it cleared.
And you say, "Well, what kind of a withhold could this be?" you know?
"There must be more to it." And of course you immediately exceed your
function as an auditor, which is to clear the meter. If "looking down the
road" cleared the meter, that was a withhold.
Now, what puzzles you is that you're fixed on a moral code, or lack of one,
which is yours, circa now. And you consider that the pc that you are
security checking only has withholds if they are transgressions against the
moral code which you consider a moral code now. And therefore you just make
fantastic numbers of mistakes. See what I'm talking about?
All right. Now, let's take this criminal. Aha, this criminal. And we've got
him on the meter, you know, and we say, "Well, have you ever ..." You know
what a criminal should be security checked at: "Have you ever robbed a
bank?" Clang! you see, you would think, boy, that's going to go clang! you
know, because we know he's robbed a bank. He's actually been in Joliet, and
Columbia University and other prisons - obviously he has. And you get not
even a twitch of the needle. And he looks at you blandly and says, "Yes, I
have robbed banks."
Well, you see, what is astounding you at that point? There's only one thing
that is making you astonished: is that he has said something that is a
transgression against what you think is his moral code. You see? And
therefore you go on security checking him against your moral code, and that
isn't the code he lives by. And he is not free of withholds. He has
tremendous numbers of withholds, but only against the moral code he lives
by.
Did you ever hear the moral code of a criminal? "Thou must not squeal to
the cops." "Thou must not peach." You could write up a long one all about
how "after you've robbed the bank you must equally share, except if
somebody didn't help you rob the bank very much, and then you should cut
his throat." "Not to kill a cop" could be against that moral code in some
societies.
So that you ask the question from the bearing of your current moral code,
and you say, "Have you ever killed a policeman?" And there's no fall.
You're checking on the wrong moral code. You're checking a pc who has a
different moral code.
The question should be "Have you ever had an opportunity to kill a
policeman and failed to do so?" Clang! See, it's against his moral code not
to kill a cop. Other criminals wouldn't speak to him. Do you follow this?
In a prison, you'd have to security check along these lines: "Have you ever
failed to keep a guard in the dark as to what was going on?" See? "Have you
ever cooperated with prison authorities?" "Have you ever told the truth to
any official?" "Have you ever spoken to a screw kindly?" Because it's
against the moral code of the prisoners, and they have their own moral
code.
You can say "all pcs have withholds," but these withholds are not
necessarily against your moral code. So we add to it, "all pcs have had
moral codes against which they have transgressed." And when you locate the
moral code against which they have transgressed, you will then get off the
withholds of the case, and only then will you get off the withholds of the
case - only then.
A withhold, then, is an unspoken, unannounced transgression against a moral
code by which the person was bound.
Now, how many moral codes are there? How many moral codes have there been?
I'd say circa right now, there is probably a different moral code for every
group, each one, large or small, in every city, county, country, continent
of earth. There's probably five hundred of them for every language there is
on this planet, and there are fifty thousand languages on this planet.
I'll give you a moral-code question to a Zulu: "Has anything ever been
lying around loose that you didn't steal?" Clang! "Who didn't you tell that
to?"
"I didn't tell my father. I wouldn't dare. He would beat me." Because it's
moral for a Zulu to steal. Interesting, isn't it? So not stealing is his
withhold, and you think his stealing would be his withhold. So you ask for
a stealing withhold and you don't get any response, and you should have
been asking for a not-stealing withhold.
Therefore it is incumbent upon the auditor to have some idea of moral
codes. What's a moral code? We'll get into that in a moment. But how many
more moral codes do you think there have been? Now look, if circa right now
there are possibly a hundred or five hundred of them for every language on
earth - let's be moderate about it - and there are fifty thousand languages
on earth, that gives you quite a few right here in present time, right? All
right, let's go back on the track. How many moral codes do you think there
have been on the whole track in the last two hundred trillion years? How
many moral codes do you think there have been? It is some unimaginable
number. You could start up in the corner of this wall and start writing -
after you put down one, then just start writing zeros in tiny microscopic
writing clear from that side of the wall, clear to the other side of the
wall; go back to the beginning, write it all the way across again, and then
when you've filled the whole wall down to the bottom, then you put it
twenty-first power. That would be quite a number. That would be quite a
number. Now, that is an awful lot of moral codes.
So, what's the anatomy of this? What is a moral code? It is that series of
agreements to which a person has subscribed to guarantee the survival of a
group. And that is what a moral code is. It's that series of agreements to
which a person has subscribed to guarantee the survival of a group. That's
what it is.
All right, I'll tell you an old short story. This is the most vignette sort
of thing. There was a couple of fellows and they heard there was a buried
treasure. A galleon had gone up on a reef down in the South Pacific, or
down in the Caribbean. And they heard this galleon had gone up on a reef,
and that just before it sank, they threw a tremendous amount of gold into
its bronze guns, hoping they could come back for it later, and put the
tampions on the guns. And the galleon sank, and these great, belled cannon
were still down there filled with gold. So a couple of men got together,
and they picked up a native boy, and they - as a crew - and they sailed
away, and they dived and dived and dived and dived for this old galleon's
cannon.
They had agreed 100 percent what they would do with the gold. They had
agreed completely what they would do with the gold. They would split it
equally, and the shares would remain on board the ship until they were
taken to a certain point, and at that point a banker and trucks would come
down to pick it up and it would be transported properly to Switzerland. And
they had agreed utterly and completely; they knew exactly what to do. And
they had agreed also not to squander it and not go getting drunk, and not
go doing this and not go doing that, until it was all safely cared for and
they were back in their own country. They'd agreed what to do about the
bills of their trip. They had it all taped.
Well, they found a couple of cannon, but they reached their arms down the
muzzles of the cannon and they couldn't find any tampion. And they went
ashore after many days. Their supplies were running out, everything was
going to hell. And the supplies were running out, and what were they going
to do? They hadn't found any gold.
Well, they had an agreement for everything except failure. They had no
agreement as to what they were going to do if they failed, so they began to
wrangle about it after the fact. And they got more and more wranglous and
more and more wranglous, and finally one of them picked up a dirk and sank
it in the other one, and the other one simultaneously lopped off the other
fellow's arm with a sword. And they had an awful time because they didn't
have any agreement at all what to do in case of failure.
And about that time, as one of the fellows was dying, he looked back at the
boat, and these guns that they had already hauled up on deck, the backs had
evidently fallen out of them, being rolled around by the native boy, and
the native boy was throwing handfuls of gold into the sea.
But they had no agreement on failure. And you'll find out that man has
learned down the track, in weird ways, that where he has not agreed upon
codes of conduct, or what is proper in eventualities ... He has agreed:
Where he has agreed, he survives, and where he has not agreed, he doesn't
survive. And so, people, when they get together, always draw up a long,
large series of agreements on what is moral (that is, what will be
contributive to survival) and what is immoral (what will be destructive of
survival).
Now, moral, by these definitions, are those things which are considered to
be, at any given time, survival characteristics. A survival action is a
moral action. And those things are considered immoral which are considered
contrasurvival.
But remember, this is for any group in any special circumstance. And here
you have a group of two men going out to find gold or a whole nation being
formed after the conquest of the land from some other race. It doesn't
matter what the size of the group is: They enter into certain agreements.
Now, the longevity of the agreement doesn't have much to do with it. It
could be an agreement for a day, an agreement for a month or an agreement
for the next five hundred years.
There's a Constitution in the United States that is an agreement. It was an
agreement made by thirteen states as to how they would conduct their
affairs. Wherever that Constitution has been breached, the country is now
in trouble. There mustn't be any income tax, the first one said. Well, they
managed to muck that up, and they managed to muck up another one, and
another point, and another point, and another point. And each time they
have busted up the agreement, why, they're in trouble.
Well, why are they in trouble? Well, that's because there aren't any other
agreements than the basic agreement. You don't have modified agreements. If
the agreement didn't exist in the first place, you can't keep patching it
up and expect any great, lasting success. But what I have just said is to
some degree a matter of opinion, because moral codes either leap full-armed
from the brass tablets of Moses as he walks down from the rain and the mist
saying "Thou shalt not sell pork to thy neighbor. Sell it to a stranger if
it is tainted."
You didn't know that was one of the Commandments, did you? But I've
mentioned it before that it happens to be there. There are about 162 of the
Ten Commandments. And they contain all sorts of interesting bric-a-brac.
But that is just a moral code.
Now, perhaps that was fine, and everybody got along fine with these first
162 precepts or principles and so forth, and then somebody came along with
a pitch and put a big curve into the line and altered the agreements and
redefined it all, you see? And after a while nobody knew what was moral, so
it got to be a confusion. And then everybody tried to enforce what was
moral and what wasn't moral, but nobody could make up his mind. And the
confusion got greater and greater, and then people departed from the group
and dispersed. And these people, dispersing, entered into other moral
groups and new moral codes were formed, which they then followed, more or
less.
And eventually those moral codes, of course, got diluted and messed up. And
time marched on, and what did we then find? All kinds of confusion would
then enter in to what was moral and what wasn't moral. And the next thing
you know, somebody would jump up and a group would get together and they
would agree on a brand-new moral code, you see? And then that moral code
would get all messed up somehow or another, and people would offend against
it somehow, and then that group would disintegrate - because, of course,
its moral agreement disintegrates, why, it (the group) disintegrates. And
then that confusion is succeeded a little later on the track by these
various group members, now members of other groups, forming up new moral
codes which go into disintegration. You see?
So you've got a cycle there. And the cycle of action of civilizations is
simply this cycle of action: It is an agreement on optimum conduct; a
disintegration of agreement and optimum conduct; a disbanding of the group;
a formation of a new group with the agreement on - new agreement on optimum
conduct; a disintegration of that agreement; the dispersal of the group;
the formation of a new group. Do you see the cycle? Now, that's the cycle
of civilization. And that's the cycle of action.
The create-survive-destroy, in this particular instance, is, of course,
they create a series of agreements and conducts of what is right and what
is wrong. They establish what is right and what is wrong, what is moral,
what is immoral, what is survival, what is nonsurvival. They establish this
thing. That is what is created. And then this disintegrates by
transgressions. And these transgressions - unspoken, but nevertheless
transgressions - by each group member gradually mount up to a
disintegration.
And the person who transgresses the most, quite commonly can be the person
who is up there screaming the loudest that the others must follow the moral
code. You look at the various Calvinist preachers and things of this
character. Man, those fellows had a ball. Ten million withholds per
preacher, you see, and they were screaming to the rooftops how everybody
must follow the code. Of course, you get a disintegration after a point
like that.
You see how this thing goes? So your "survive," of course, is as long as
the codes or agreements continue in action. And then your "destroy" or your
destructive confusion, of course, is what occurs when everybody has
withholds, when everybody is going the other way to, token payment to the
code but actually no adherence to it; everybody has withholds from
everybody else concerning it. The group, of course, disintegrates on the
basis that when you have overts, you have separation, individuation.
So the group disintegrates and you go into a new cycle now. Sometimes they
stay disintegrated for a year, sometimes for hundreds of years.
There are countries on this planet right now whose moral codes have
disintegrated, who haven't yet formed a new one. Several Mediterranean
countries have done this right this minute. They really don't have a new
moral code. Their old one is pretty doggone shot.
The white man, with "life, liberty and equality" as spread by Tom Jefferson
and so forth, now, down in Africa, is experiencing the agony of having his
moral codes, as natives, totally destroyed, completely. And everybody says,
"Isn't this wonderful! Isn't this marvelous! Look, all we're doing for
these natives," you see, and the natives are getting sicker and sicker and
falling apart, and they can't handle themselves or anything else. And
everybody says, "Isn't it wonderful what we're doing? Look, we're giving
them washing machines. Of course, they don't have any electric power in
their house, but we're giving them washing machines! And look at the
marvelous things we're doing here."
Well, the marvelous thing they're doing, of course, is disintegrating the
moral code of the tribe or the tribal unit, and bringing about a total
disintegration of the individuals concerned with it.
Now, there is your general hue; there is the general state of affairs with
regard to a cycle of action of civilization. Do you see how that went? You
see how it goes?
All right. You in Scientology are involved right this minute in a certain
mores. There is a certain moral code of one kind or another. Actually, it
isn't completely formed yet. It is still in a state of formation. But one
of the reasons why you find it difficult to process another Scientologist
is not that his case is worse, but because you, when you flub, transgress
against the moral code of "Thou shalt be a good auditor." That's it.
And because you are subscribing to a code of conduct that is survival,
therefore, when you have overts against that code of conduct, it is the
code of conduct by which you are auditing and progressing in life. So
naturally, these things, then, take paramount importance in Security
Checks. The last two pages of the Form 3, all of Form 6, when straightened
out, will do more for a long-term Scientologist than anything else. Why?
Why, he's been doing all these things in the name of helping people. "Well,
yes," you say, "well, he has a perfect right to go nattering around about,
'Well, Ron has changed his mind again!'" you know? You think he has a
perfect right to.
Well, I personally believe he has a perfect right to, don't you see? I'm
not upset by this in any way. I've been shellacked by experts, you know?
And I can stand up to a lot more hurricane than somebody sitting back in a
corner nattering slightly about something or other. "Oh, well, these
bulletins aren't in order, you know? And Ron should have gotten these
bulletins in order," you know?
All right. But it just so happens, by the principles of the thing, that the
very fact that he is thinking them is a transgression against something he
apparently has agreed to. All right, the transgression is such that it
holds his case up.
It is the current moral code, then, which is the most important to the
case. It is the code by which the person is now living which has dominance
over all other codes. So we get a practicing Scientologist, and so on, and
the first thing that we've got to do with him is straighten out his
transgressions against the group agreement: "Thou shalt be a good auditor."
"Thou shalt not flub." "Thou shalt pronounce thy commands properly." Get
the idea? And "Thou shan't get Scientology in trouble." You know? This kind
of thing. Whatever these codes add up to, they are what they are, don't you
see? They aren't so much what I say they are, they just are what they are.
They're what you're forming up.
All right. Transgressions against those things, then, tend to make you feel
like an outsider from the group of Scientologists, and to that degree you
can receive no benefit from Scientology, don't you see? It's very simple.
It is not that the action is monstrous; it is the degree that the action
removes the person from his group.
So that is the definition of a transgression. This has very little to do
with our own moral code, only that we just, oddly enough, are suddenly -
suddenly look and see what we're doing, you know? I mean, here we are,
we're forming up a new series of agreements. They're not all completely
formed yet, not by a long ways. But there they are. They're a new series of
agreements. They're a way of life. There's "this is survival" and "that
isn't survival." The fact that these things resolve life and take dominance
and command over so many other moral codes and can actually run out now and
change all other moral codes, of course makes this a fantastically powerful
code by which we're operating.
I'm not now talking about the written Code of a Scientologist. I am talking
about what YOU think a Scientologist should do and should not do. What YOU
think he should do and not do, see? Not what I think he should do and not
do. That is basically the moral code which is being formed up here.
Well, it's a very strong one because it has dominance over all other moral
codes. You think it should be this way and it should be that way, or it
shouldn't be this way and it shouldn't be that way. And it all is added up
to you and adjudicated on what you consider survival and what's not
considered survival. And of course we're in a position where we're dominant
other [over] all other activities.
But let's not worry about that for a moment. That has very small bearing on
this particular lecture. What I'm talking about is, what is a moral code?
Well, a moral code is a series of agreements to which members of a group
have subscribed to promote their survival. Now, that is a moral code.
And their transgressions are the degree that they have separated themselves
from free communication with the remainder of the group. That is a
transgression: the degree that a person has separated himself from free
communication with a group. And that's all a transgression is.
Now, you say, "Well, a transgression: After all, he murders a member of the
group. That's certainly a wilder transgression than this ..." Well, I don't
know. He murders a member of the group and so they burn him at the stake or
something of the sort, or assign him to being skewered with E-Meter cans in
the public square. Something goes on. It actually is not much of a
transgression. That is sort of a livingness, and groups do get enturbulated
one way or the other.
But get this one: Murdering a member of the group and hiding his body and
never mentioning it to the rest of the group - oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Now he
is pretending to be part of the group while no longer being part of the
group, and it is out of that sort of thing that you get the disintegration.
So, he murdered a member of the group and everybody found out about it, and
they all knew him. They saw him do it, and they skewered him with E-Meter
cans in the middle of the square and told him, "Go thou and never get
audited again, you dog." And so he went out and picked up another body. And
one day an auditor runs into it in session and runs it out, see?
But he actually has not been separated from the group. The only person who
can separate one from a group is himself, and the only mechanism he can do
it by is withholding. He withholds transgressions against the moral code of
the group from the other members of the group, and therefore he
individuates from the group and the group therefore disintegrates. This
should be very simple; this is very well taped.
Now, how does this all come about in the first place? Are there any other
mechanisms back of this? Yes, there is the mechanism of coaction, the
mechanism of coaction. The last time you were dancing with somebody you
were indulging in a coaction. They were moving and you were moving and so
forth. The last time you had a fight with somebody, you were in a coaction;
yes, you were in violent disagreement with their actions and they were in
violent disagreement with your action, but unfortunately, underneath all
this, you were both fighting.
Now, I'll give you an example of a coaction of magnitude, if you will
forgive the slight excursion into maritime affairs. I'll tell you anecdotes
about the Phoenician navy pretty soon, but right now I can only tell you
anecdotes about current ones that you would be interested in.
A ship is no good until it has braved some tremendous danger or indulged in
combat. The crew is no good and the ship just isn't integrated. There's
nothing to it.
You take these harbor launches that everybody goes home to the wife every
night, and they come aboard, and so forth. Well, they fall apart. There is
no group there to amount to anything.
But a ship, in essence, is a fairly isolated group and therefore gives us a
good example.
And you recruit everybody up, and you've got all the proper number of
ratings and men, and they're all at their proper stations, and they're all
in the proper slots, and they've all been trained for their duties - and
nothing works. It's so interesting. Nothing works. There is no more
nightmarish nightmare than putting a ship in commission with a new crew.
For the first month, or two or three months even, you are in a position
where you don't know whether the guns are going to fall off or the keel is
going to suddenly wind up down the stack. You just don't know.
The supplies never seem to get aboard, and the fuel never seems to flow
freely to the engines or burners. Nothing seems to ever happen in the ship.
Just nothing happens! Except a sort of a confusion. Some kind of a weird
confusion goes on.
And then one fine day this ship is out and it meets a great storm. And this
storm is battering away at force 8, 9, 10, and huge, raging seas are racing
on every side of it and every man is braced, and down in the engine room
they're trying to keep the screws turning over somehow or another, and the
water in the bilges are [is] sloshing all around and somebody forgot to
close a seacock. And the next thing you know, they're all being punished
for their omissions.
And somehow or another they hold the ship together. Somehow or another they
hold the ship together. And then the storm abates. And for some peculiar
reason we now have a ship. This is a noticed fact. I mean, a lot of people
who have gone to sea, and so forth, could tell you this fact.
It is true of a flight group. It is true of a military company. You never
really see any organization hang together at all until it has been bruised,
heavily and hard, and then you will see an organization hang together.
The reason business organizations are so hard to hold together as groups,
and there are so many transgressions against their codes of operation, is
centered totally upon the fact that they never get mauled. The boss gets
mauled and the accountant gets mauled and somebody else gets mauled, but
nobody ever takes the whole building and mauls it. There is no mutual
danger to amount to anything.
One could be created. Instead of the manager taking it all on his back
every time somebody writes him a nasty letter, if he got the staff together
and read it to them and they had a chance to find out what was going on and
discover what was under attack here or what wasn't under attack here, you
might get a cohesed group and organization. Otherwise, no.
What is this? They have experienced the necessity to survive, and that is
the whole summation of it. A group becomes a group when it has experienced
mutually the necessity to survive. And that then makes a very strong group.
A ship going into action for the first time goes into it as a disintegrated
series of agreements. It has no moral code, it has nothing. Why? Because
nobody sees any necessity at all to survive. And then they take a rare
shellacking. They've left a seacock opened and they forgot to test out the
ammunition hoist, and a lot of other things weren't done on this ship. And
all those sins start to catch them out. And they suddenly say, "We've got
to survive around here, and we had better put it into high gear." And when
they come out the other end, they're all friends, oddly enough. They've
gone through a mutual experience of some magnitude and they're friends. And
their friendship for one another expresses it in itself - of a knitted
group which has its own mores.
You'll find out that every ship which has been long together with itself
under any kind of - well, just mediocre, the most medi - it isn't
leadership that makes a ship, it's lack of interference by leadership that
makes a ship. And you'll find out that these boys will have developed a
whole civilization of their own. They have their own jokes. You'll be
walking down the deck of a strange ship that is lying in some harbor
someplace and somebody will say, all of a sudden - turn around and he'll
say (he'll look at another little boat in the water or something like that)
and he'll say, "Ten feet tall." And everybody - every member of the ship's
company that is near him - will laugh like mad, you see?
You're an outsider. You don't know what he was talking about.
Well, something has happened on the ship or somebody got razzle- dazzled
into some peculiar way and it somehow or another centers around this joke,
"ten feet tall," and everybody knows this joke, but the outsider doesn't.
Well, that's as much a part of their civilization as, all the ship's
members know that when you go down a certain companionway and open a
certain watertight door, you'd better for sure get your fingers the hell
out of the road because it inevitably slams back. They all know that, but
you're a stranger and you don't know that, so you get your fingers caught.
But they have a whole technology, and it's just a group of men running one
piece of machinery.
An oil rig, running out in the middle of Texas someplace or standing out on
a Texas tower in the Gulf, something like this - the crews attached to that
thing, after they've gone through certain experiences and so forth, cohese
and become a group. And they have certain morals that are different. It
runs different, place to place. But there's a certain pattern runs through
it all. And the basic thing is you mustn't injure the survival of a fellow
group member - common denominator of a transgression. And that's also, by
the way, the common denominator of the code in the first place: You mustn't
injure the survival of a certain group member.
Therefore, a manager has a tendency to be far more isolated from a group,
or the leader of a group has a tendency to be far more isolated from the
group, than group members. Why? Because he every now and then does injure
the survival characteristics of a group member. No matter if he does it
reluctantly, every now and then, on every side of him, he will find members
of the group are absolutely insisting that Member X be expelled. Member Xs
transgressions, in the cumulative sense, have gotten so antipathetic to
other group members that they find that it is impossible to survive with
Member X around. And who do they turn it over to?
Well, now, the leader of the group is not particularly aware of the
transgressions of Member X because he doesn't live the same life as the
rest of the group. He's a little bit isolated, don't you see? So he does an
independent overt without a motivator. He dismisses the group member. He
says, "Thou shalt be shot. Thou shalt be turned out to starve," or
something.
So he tends to get all manner of overts against group members. And then he
seldom tells anybody else in the group what exactly happened to Member X,
because he thinks it'd be too enturbulative. He never posts it on the
bulletin board, or something like this. "For the seventh consecutive time,
Member X was found eating crackers in somebody else's bed and therefore is
no longer amongst us, by popular demand." He never does anything like this,
you see? He operates sort of on a constant withhold. And he can actually
drive himself straight out of his own group. It's quite interesting. Ah,
you get this in the isolation of command and so forth.
Now, this is so true that man has at length accepted the idea of isolation
of command as a normal course of human events. It's not necessarily normal
at all. But you see, there is one of your breakdowns.
Now, leadership is one of the frailties of a group, while at the same time
being one of its greatest strengths. So that you change the leadership of a
group, you can change, to a marked degree, some of the characteristics of
the group. But if you change the group over to a leader who then violates
or changes all the mores of the group, ahh, well, we've got lots of trouble
now. We've got lots of trouble.
I have a case in point: There was a very successful company. You heard of
Nick Carter and Diamond Dick and all the rest of these old pocketbooks - in
their day, the comic books of the 1890s. Well, those were all published by
a company known as Street & Smith. And it had become very, very wealthy
over a long period of time, and it had its mores. Boy, did that place have
mores.
It owned a whole square block - imagine it - in the middle of New York
City, where a square foot is worth about a hundred thousand dollars. And it
owned a whole, huge square-block building about four stories high that was
the clammiest, most fallen-apart old building you ever heard of, and it had
printing presses in it. And the building was so shaky that when these
enormous presses started to roar, the whole building shook. You could
hardly hold the inkwell on the desk, you know, up in the executive offices,
and so forth.
And they had - they had just gone on for years. They had unpublished
manuscripts of O. Henry - they had all kinds of things. I went into their
vaults one day, and there were the originals of Ned Buntline, you know, and
Annie Oakley and all of this kind of stuff. Fantastic.
And there were certain codes by which you couldn't speak to people and
could speak to people, and certain precedences by which you went to lunch
and did this and did that. And there were promotion precedences in every
place, and it was a very hidebound old outfit. Well, after all, it had been
in existence for the better part of a half a century.
And all of a sudden young Mr. Smith inherited it on the basis of death
dues, you see? And he had a wife. And his wife believed that it was a nasty
thing to publish things like that. Her friends wouldn't like it. But they
would like such things as fancy women's magazines.
And so Mr. Smith Americanized himself to the degree of saluting the wife
and saying, "Yes, sir." And at the time he took over - at the time he took
over - there was a seven-million-dollar sinking fund in that company. Just
the sinking fund! There were no strings attached to it. There were nothing.
It just sat there and made money. Everything made money in all directions.
He took their high-power presses, which could spit out more dime novels and
magazines than any other high-power press in America, and sold it to his
nearest competitor. And then they could spit out more magazines than Street
& Smith. And when he got through, he owned "Mademoiselle," all on the cuff.
And the company was gone and the building was gone and everything was gone.
It's things like that, you see, which give rise and credence and get
loyalty devoted to such things as socialism, communism, things of this
character. Because they recognize that the leader of a group is the most
capable of destroying the group.
The group might survive all sorts of storms and financial crises and
crashes, but all one - well, just one thing has to happen, you see? The
leader of the group goes bad, marries the wrong girl, who decides that her
friends won't speak to her quite well enough if she is connected with
printing blood-and-thunder magazines, don't you see?
I don't know what happened to all of that, but the staff dispersed all over
the place. And you would see these people afterwards, and they'd be sitting
around in a sort of a degraded fashion, you know? They were old Street &
Smith people. They were never anything else. They were not new
popular-publications people, you see? They were old Street & Smith people,
because it was one of the oldest publication groups in America.
Now, you can answer the question "Why is it that the old soldier is always
degraded?" Just hire an old soldier someday to mow the front lawn. You
usually will have had it. They have a very bad employment reputation, old
soldiers. Now, I'm talking about old soldiers: the sixteen-year man, the
twenty-year man, the thirty-year man.
And you say at once, "Well, the army must have done something horrible to
this fellow to bring about a total disintegration of his personality, and
therefore the army is very bad training and therefore the army is degrading
and therefore the military is very bad." And you can get a whole nation
believing the military is very bad because every product of the military
which they see, after the fellow has spent ten, sixteen, twenty, thirty
years in the military, is the guy is walking around in a fog, you know?
He's walking around in a daze of some kind or another, or he takes to
drink, or he's unreliable and he won't do his job. And they see this sort
of thing, so they say the military must be very bad.
No, they're looking at another phenomenon. It is the phenomenon of a group
member who is no longer part of the group. That's the phenomenon they're
looking at. He's a perfectly good soldier, but he has no group. How can he
go on being a perfectly good soldier? There's no mores. Any mores that he
has - "Thou shalt not tell the sergeant," you know? "Thou shalt sneak in
after hours when thou dost not have a pass." "Thou shalt raise hell with
the mess sergeant." "Thou shalt scrounge anything that isn't nailed down,
providing - providing it doth not belong to thine own company." Tremendous
mores, various kinds, you know? "Thou shalt raise hell with second
lieutenants but be respectful to captains." All these kinds of things.
Well, this is the moral code by which he is living. And of course he's
living by a moral code and he has no group connected with it anymore; he is
degraded.
Is he degraded, actually, because he had overts against the army and his
moral code? No. No. He is merely degraded because of this interesting
phenomenon, which you must pay some attention to: If a person is no longer
a member of a group, he feels automatically that he must have had overts
against it and was driven out of it. Through no fault of his own, this
group has ceased to exist, or he is no longer a member of it. Just the fact
that he is no longer a member of the group makes him automatically - flick
- believe that he must have had overts agaainst the group.
You see, this is the reverse phenomenon. Now, you run into this every once
in a while. As a matter of fact, you run into it rather constantly. Because
the punishment or the result exists, people then believe the crime must
have existed. Got the idea?
You'll see every once in a while some fellow whose wife has left him. And
he will then believe that he must have been mean to her or that he is not a
good family man. Maybe it had nothing to do with it whatsoever. Maybe there
was a typhoid epidemic in the area and she died. But he gets this other
sensation, you know? The other sensation is he's no longer a part of the
group, therefore he must have offended. And you'll find people nattering
and chattering about this.
One notable example, there was one girl I knew whose father died in an
automobile accident exactly two thousand miles away, and she sat around all
the time trying to figure out how she killed her father. How had she killed
her father? Well, was it because she didn't answer his telephone call when
he put a telephone call through to her? Was it because she didn't phone at
the time of this? Was it because of this? Was it because of that? Was it
because she had gone to this other city in the first place? Now, if she
hadn't gone to the other city ... and so forth.
Well, all of this nattering, and that whole thing which the psychiatrist -
ooh, this just drives the psychiatrist mad. He worries about this more than
anything else. He sits up all night sometimes worrying about this one. If
he finds this in a patient, he sits there and the perspiration just drips
all over his white, somewhat smudged- edged waistcoat. The person thinks he
killed his father. And he'll just do everything he can possibly do, you
see, to try to convince this patient that he didn't kill his father. And he
doesn't know the mechanism connected with it, and actually we didn't either
until just now, in the last few days here.
Well, his father's gone, so therefore he must have offended against a group
called "son-father" or "daughter-father." See, that is a group.
Daughter-father: must have offended against it because he's no longer a
member of the group. And you might say this is the common denominator of
people's degraded feelings. They are no longer a member of the group.
So you will very often be processing somebody who feels that he had
tremendous overts - this is not in the majority - but you'll feel this is
somebody who had tremendous overts against a group, and you won't be able
to find them. And you won't even be able to - you won't be able to locate
them on the meter, which is what I mean. No, the group is gone, it's not
any longer there, and he's no longer with the group, so he figures it out,
you see, that having suffered the final punishment for transgressing
against the group, that he must have transgressed against the group. And
what's worrying him is to try to figure out how he transgressed against the
group rather than simply face the fact that he's no longer a member of the
group. You got the idea?
An awful lot of people finished up World War II, or the Korean War, feeling
degraded because they were separated from their military units. Well, they
were separated from their military units. Well, if they'd gone through a
lot of co-survival motion, see - if they'd gone through a lot of motion
with other fellows in an effort to survive - then it cohesed the group. And
of course, how did they leave the group? Well, they just left the group by
being demobbed, that's all. (Naval terminology: they were "separated from
service.")
Well, that was some action of some character in some personnel division
someplace. And the fellow afterwards wonders if he shouldn't have been
nicer to the squadron, you know, and he shouldn't have been nicer to the
company, or if he shouldn't have been better to those people, and what did
he do? And he'll sit around and grieve, actually, about the horrible things
that he did do to these fellows. Well, he's integrating the whole thing
against the fact that because he's no longer a member of the group, then he
must have transgressed against the group. You see?
In other words, he does an identification of the punishment with the
action. See, it's - only the action is necessary.
Now, what actions are actually necessary to cohese a group? Coaction in the
direction of survival. If you have coaction in the direction of survival,
with two or more people, you inevitably have a mores. It's tiny and it's
not very explicit, but it's a mores. And it has to do with two people who
went against many antisurvival forces. They coacted against antipathetic
forces, so therefore they are a group.
And now one of the people dies or departs, and we have the other person
then believing he must have transgressed against the other person. And sure
enough, he does have transgressions, and you'll find out he's very, very
happy to find out and get off his withholds and transgressions against the
other thing, and it will blow at that time. But it's blowing for another
reason. The reason you think it is blowing is because you've gotten off
these little, petty, two-bit withholds, you know? No, no, he was very happy
to have found he really did merit no longer being a member of the group.
You got the difference?
See, he figures, "Well, it was justified. They were right, throwing me out,
because look, I did have some withholds, see? I did have some of these
withheld transgressions. So therefore, obviously, there it is." See, happy
as a clam, you know?
So he's willing to be separated from the group. Up to that time it's
unknown, it's unexplained. Did he have transgressions against the group, or
didn't he have transgressions against the group? And the only evidence he
has - he's no longer a member of the group, so he must have transgressed
against the group. That's what the equation is. If the fellow is no longer
a member of the group then he must have had action against the group.
You'll find out that the fellow who has a dogfight over France with a
German pilot, let's say, and they go round and round and round and round,
and they have this hell of a dogfight, and so forth, and they finally break
it off and go home - do you know, there's always a little bit of an oddity
between the two of them, so on. You know, they - every once in a while
after a war, a couple of pilots who have had aerial duels, and so forth,
will meet. And they meet like old pals, man. That is the group. But you
see, just to that degree, they formed a group.
But what kind of a group was it? It was a group of tremendous coaction -
contrasurvival. But each one is trying so forcefully to survive that their
action is in agreement. It's an agreed-upon action: a dance of death in the
sky. They're both firing at each other, aren't they? They're both flying
airplanes, aren't they? They're both trying to survive, aren't they?
They're both in the same sky, aren't they? They're both in the same time
period, aren't they?
Well, they know they aren't a group. Each one knows the other is an enemy,
and they know this positively and violently, that they are not a group. And
so they can never explain why the dogfight hangs up. Of course, there are
withholds against their own groups in there. If one didn't shoot the other
one down, it's actually a sort of a transgression against his own group,
just to that degree.
But if he has a dogfight, fails to shoot the other one down and then goes
home and never mentions it, now he's actually got a transgression against
his own group.
You get the degree of complexity with which this mounts up. Well, it mounts
up on this basis, this basis: agreement. What is agreement? It's two people
making the same postulate stick. Two or more people making the same
postulate stick. That's what we mean by an agreement. Two or more people
making the same postulate stick - an agreement.
Well now, what if they go into mutual action, and their mutual action is in
the direction of survival? Oh, they've got the same agreements that they're
trying to make stick, and now they're going through similar actions by
which they're trying to make survival possible. Now, what have they got
now? Ah, they've got coaction, and they have a confusion of one with
another. They don't quite differentiate their own action, so they misown
other actions in their immediate vicinity.
Fifteen men pulling on a rope trying to pull a seaplane out of the sea:
Afterwards you say, "How much of each one's motion was responsible for the
seaplane coming out of the sea? Exactly how many ergs of your motion was
part of the recovery of the seaplane?"
Well, you try to break it down like that, he takes the easy course, you
see? And he says, "Well, we did it. We pulled it out of the sea." He
doesn't differentiate how much each one did pull it out of the sea. He just
says broadly, "We pulled it out of the sea." In other words, it was fifteen
men contributing unequally, some more, some less, to a line, and they would
contribute unequally if they were just at different positions on the line,
because the lines get bent and twisted around things, and people who are
closer to bollards, you see, can't pull as well as people who are far from
them. You get the idea? So, it's an incalculable mathematical problem. How
many ergs did each one contribute?
Well, they all solved the problem by saying, "We did it." Oh, and they're
very happy about this - " We did it. Our motion."
Now, you take some fellow who has been running an engine for an awful long
time. He's pulling water or something up a hill into a reservoir, you see?
And he runs this engine and he sees the pumps running, the water going up
the hill, and so on. And he runs the engine and he runs the engine and he
runs the engine. Well, why, after a while, when you talk to him, does he go
kind of gurgle, gurgle," you see? Or like these engineers that I had, and
so on, they start their motors. They start their motors before they begin
to talk. They say, " Wrawr, wra-wr, wrawr," and then they get to firing off
and they give you the sentence. It's quite interesting.
I don't think anybody would believe that. But I've got Peter as a witness.
He's talked to them over the phone. It's quite marvelous. They start their
motors and then they talk.
See, the coaction. In other words, their action of running the motor is
undifferentiated by them with the action of the motor. So their action
running the body and the motor's action in running the pump - these are
mutual actions. So you get coaction.
Now, you can go into this on havingness of motors and you can go into it on
causes of things, and you can go into it in other ways, but you actually
separate it best by just getting the fellow to get the idea of a mutual
action with the motor. And all of a sudden he - up to that time he's been
totally identified. His action was the motor's actions and the motor's
actions were his actions, and so they had actions. They had actions. If the
motor conked out and all of a sudden its coil went bad, why, he goes home
and has a stomachache or something like this, you know? Their mutual action
is too tied in.
And that is the source of an overt. Now, let's get around to what we're
talking about here. That is an overt act - or, that is the source of overt
acts. You have mutual action with something else, and you call it a group
member, a mores, a moral code - anything you want to call it - you see
that, but it's mutual action. And then you do something cruel to that with
which you have mutual action, and of course you experience the somatic. And
it's just as easy as that. It isn't any deeper than that. That is an overt
act-motivator sequence, and that is its exact mechanics, and that's all
there is to it.
Now, you wonder why I've been talking about mores and groups and group
action and survival and all that sort of thing. Well, it just adds up to
that fact. After you've had a tremendous amount of group coaction, you then
embark upon a cruel action to what you have coaction with and you'll get
the somatic. You must have had a cruel impulse toward coaction before you
can get the somatic you administer to somebody else.
You take somebody with whom we have coaction and one day, for some reason
or other best known to somebody else, you accidentally break his arm. You
go around afterwards nursing your own. Why? Because your arm is his arm.
And that's how that crosses, and that's what an overt act-motivator
sequence is, and those are all the mechanics there are to it. There aren't
any fancier mechanics than that.
There isn't any mechanic such as "Well, you should be punished because you
have offended against another member of the group." No, that is the group
dramatizing the fact I just gave you.
Religionists come along. Religionists come along. And these religionists,
they tell you, "Well, do unto others as thou shalt turn thy other pig." I
don't think that's one of the commandments, but it's something like that.
They get this thing reversed.
In other words, they are forcing into existence something that already
exists. See, they're saying, "Well now, you get mean, you gyp your fellow
group member, and you're really going to suffer. You'll suffer in the long
run." Oh, great. "Eighteen paternosters and three pieces of bread; that's
what it's going to cost you, or you'll suffer from here on, you see?" They
get paid for it.
There actually is nothing there to be paid for. A person who makes an overt
act against something with which he has mutual action, of course, is
incapable of differentiating what is his action and what is the other
action. Fifteen men on a rope, one of them trips and butts the other one in
the back, and then he has a somatic in his own back, you see, because he
didn't know whether the force was his or the force was theirs, but he
engaged in a cruel action.
Now, all overt-motivator sequences become very pronounced when cruel
actions are maliciously engaged upon while withholding. One is really a
member of the group, one is really coacting with the group, but one engages
on a cruel action toward another member of the group and then tries to back
out. Why does he try to withhold? He tries to withhold for just this
reason: He tries to withhold because he doesn't want the effect of the
coaction. See, he tries to individuate from the group when he does a cruel
act because he knows that if he does a cruel act to something he has
coaction with, then, of course, he's going to get it in the neck. So he
tries to back out.
In other words, he disowns the coaction because he's trying to get rid of
the motivator he will inevitably get. So he shoots a fellow group member,
and having shot the fellow group member, he then seeks to withhold the fact
that he has shot a fellow group member so as not to be liable to the
somatics of coaction, which experience has taught him will always occur.
And we're just down to the basic fundamentals of nondifferentiation and
identification, that is all. He identifies every group member's action with
his own action, so therefore if he is mean to a group member, he of course
is liable to get it, so he tries to escape the penalty of what is woven
straight into group action amongst all thetans, and seeks to back out. And
this will ordinarily coax him into withholding, too. So, withhold is part
of a backout.
Now, if you ask him to recognize his coaction with that group member prior
to his overt act, the overt act of course will blow. That's the mechanics
of it, you see? You've got to get the prior action.
Now, of course, the more commotion and the more action and the more
withholds and the more nonsense preceded his overt act, the more the overt
act is going to hang up and the more he's going to try to withhold it. Do
you follow that plainly? That's quite easy.
In other words, he can only suffer from his overt because of former
coaction. He can only suffer from his overt because of former coaction. And
that coaction is the most aberrative when it is mutual survival - mutual
survival. And, of course, that means a disturbed, confused area. And it
also - you will spot earlier and earlier overts against fellow group
members as you're doing this, which is earlier and earlier efforts to back
out.
Well, of course, he is involved in mutual survival, mutual action. He is
involved with other people with mutual survival. And because he is involved
with this mutual action, every time he has tried to back out of mutual
action, he of course had sought to deny the mutuality of the action. And he
thinks he can get off the overt-motivator sequence inevitability by denying
it, you see? If he just denies it enough, then he's no longer part of that
scene. So he individuates, you see, gradually out.
And you have to knock out his individuation totally before he can walk out.
That is what is the most peculiar phenomenon about it all, you see? The
action he takes to escape punishment is the action which then settles in
the punishment. This is all very mechanical. There is nothing much to it.
You'll see this thing unfold. You'll see this thing unfold left and right.
It becomes very ... Well, you audit a pc and you ask him for a prior
confusion. Well, you could ask him for a prior survival and you'd get about
the same answer.
You're asking him for a former coaction. And of course you will find, every
time you find a former coaction, it opens up the track a little bit more,
so he finds a former withhold. And then you look earlier than that
withhold, and of course you've found a former coaction again - usually a
confusion, because it's a survival action against odds, a battle of some
kind or another with these two people facing the world, or these ten
people, or this race, you see - and you find him backing out a little bit
more.
Then you get a little more coaction off the case by asking him what some
earlier confusion was, and of course he remembers another withhold, another
effort to individuate from the group. And these uncover just to the degree
that you uncover prior confusions or prior survivals.
It's quite patent. In other words, you've got to get the co-motion - if you
want to use that word - the co-motion which preceded the withhold. That
doesn't mean the overt act that preceded the withhold so much as it means
the co-disturbance which preceded his effort to individuate. And of course
you'll get the withhold and the motivator, just right now. You get it right
now. You ask for the coaction, and of course, that blows the mutual action
he was involved in with another group member, and having blown that, you
then can release the other. And it - and then he no longer withholds this
fact about what he was trying to do to the group, so he's no longer trying
to disintegrate from the group, so he can move on the time track.
Every time he has a withhold, he parks himself on the time track, you see?
And he can keep parking himself and parking himself on the time track till
the whole time track looks like just one big now. And that one big now is
the reactive mind. And that's all there is to the reactive mind; it's the
combined withholds which he has stacked up, which have all become part of
now. But they're efforts to individuate from groups.
Well now, he really never has succeeded in individuating from any group he
has ever belonged to. Isn't that fascinating? It doesn't matter whether he
talked to a shepherd back in the old days, and they were talking there, and
all of a sudden a wolf came "romping" over, operatically, and the flock
scattered. And so the shepherd picked up a cudgel and went after the wolf.
And he was just a gentleman passing by the way, but he picked up his sword
and he went after the wolf, too. And they both got ahold of the wolf and
they chased him over the hills and far away and made nothing out of the
wolf. And then they came back and gathered up the sheep, and they shook
each other by the hand and he went on his way.
All right. He made a group, didn't he? He made a group, and they had an
agreement. The mores of the group is "Protect sheep. Kill wolves." That was
their morals. That is what they were supposed to do.
Now, all right. He went along for a few years, and one day a shepherd drove
all the sheep through his rose garden, and so he went out and put a sword
through the shepherd. And he got it right in his chest. And, "Doctor,
Doctor, I have this horrible pain in my chest. I just can't understand what
this horrible pain in my chest is."
The doctor said, "Well, we - we look - we look upon that as advanced,
galloping consumption. That's what that is. And you take this horrible
black potion here, and it'll get you over it." And about eight, nine
thousand bottles of black potion later, why, they bury him.
He formed a group with a shepherd and then he killed a shepherd. Wasn't
even the same shepherd. Well, what's he done? He's done an identification
of shepherds, in the first place. And then he's done an identification of
motion with a shepherd earlier. You follow this? So he gets an overt
act-motivator sequence.
But nobody has ever left any groups. The magicians: well, there have been
magicians ever since there's been track. But magicians, from time to time,
have expressed this in saying - they haven't come close to this at all. As
a matter of fact, it's not a stable datum of magic. But they say, "A
magician who starts in on one religion should not change his religion just
because he's practicing magic." That's one of the rules of the game in
magic. Mustn't change your religion. They know it's bad luck. They know
people go to pieces on it.
Well, all they found out, just to that degree, is the fellow had subscribed
to a religious group of some kind or another, and now if he goes and shifts
his religion, why, he's going to get an overt- motivator sequence of some
kind or other he isn't going to be able to explain to anybody, and there
he's had it - which is quite interesting.
This opens up an interesting door for Scientology, because if no one has
ever left any group he ever belonged to, against which he had a
transgression or an overt, why, that means that all new groups being formed
are formed by transgressors. And then that follows, then, that if
Scientologists could get off of that particular mechanism, they would form
the first true group that has existed since the beginning of the universe.
Isn't that interesting? Interesting vista suddenly opens up in that
particular direction.
That's all rather beside the point at this particular moment. We're just
talking about the mechanics of this thing. But that's true, that would
happen.
Now, what is a moral code? A moral code would be agreements - a series of
agreements - which had been cemented by mutual action aimed toward
survival. And a transgression is an action against a person or being or
thing with which one has a moral code or an understanding or a coaction.
Notice that we're trotting out Dianetics: Modern Science of Mental Health's
SURVIVAL, in caps. Notice it's right back with us again. Because it is the
action by which beings sought to survive that then brings about coaction on
the part of those beings; which brings about, then, the development of a
series of agreements; which then brings about the possibility of a
transgression. And the transgression, withheld, is an effort to act against
the coaction of the group without suffering the consequences. But the
coaction, followed by a withhold, then parks the person right there.
You see, because that's not an action. Let me call to your attention that a
withhold is a no-action after the fact of action.
You break the cookie jar and then you don't tell your mother. And you're
processing this person and he's going along the track, and there he is, all
of a sudden, and he's standing there in the kitchen. He's not looking at
anything. He's not looking at anything.
Have you noticed the number of pictures which pcs have where they're not
doing anything? Have you noticed this? They're not killing anybody, they're
not breaking any bones, they're not robbing any cookie jars, they're not
doing anything, see? There they were, just innocently standing there, just
an innocent bystander.
They'll have a picture, suddenly, of a street; and there's absolutely
nothing happening on this street. They'll have a picture of a kitchen;
there's nothing happening in the kitchen. They will have a picture of a
pot, and there's nothing happening with regard to the pot at all.
Well, what are these things? These are the points of withhold where a
person has withheld his transgression against the group. And the
transgression may lie minutes, hours or days before the picture. You just
ask for the commotion which went on before that, and he'll give it to you,
and you find the withhold, then the fact that he withheld it against the
mores of the group, and the picture will spring, just like that. Very
tight, close mechanism. There's nothing much to it at all.
So, you look for the prior confusion. The rule of the prior confusion comes
out of this. So if the person is parked anyplace, he of course has a
withhold at the point he is parked, but it is immediately preceded by a
coaction or co-motion, for sure, and then an overt against that coaction
and co-motion. And then the withhold. So it follows down consecutively in
terms of time: 12:00, coaction, co- motion, as a part of the group; 1:00,
overt against this group; 2:00, parked - see, withhold against the group,
the effort to move out of the group. I'm just giving you 12:00, 1:00 and
2:00 so you can see what I mean by consecutively in time.
So, we have childhood, coaction with a family; teen-age, overt against the
family; young adulthood, complete upset with the family and awfully parked;
withhold, won't talk to the rest of the family. You get the idea, see?
Well now, this goes as far as this: One can withhold one's self - and you
mustn't overlook this in processing. That fellow who thinks he should have
been drafted and join the army, and who didn't then join the army, will be
found to be in possession of a withhold which is inarticulate unless you
know this particular fact: He is withholding a body. You don't just
withhold thoughts. You just don't withhold deeds. You can withhold a body.
You can also withhold stolen goods. You can also withhold objects of
various kinds or another, which really aren't stolen, but they're withheld.
But withholding self is the commonest one, because wherever a person has
engaged in a dogfight, such as I spoke about a few minutes ago, he all the
time was trying to bring about the death of the other person while
withholding himself from death, which makes a disagreed unreality about the
whole thing. There's no agreement there of any kind whatsoever.
If you ask somebody, "Get the idea of withholding your body. Thank you."
"Get the idea of withholding your body. Thank you," he'll wind up in all
kinds of dogfights and all kinds of activities of one kind or another where
he was trying to do something. It's not a good method of spotting overts,
but that would find a hell of a lot of overts. You'd find a lot of overts.
You say, "Get the idea of withholding your body. Thank you." "Get the idea
of withholding your body. Thank you." And the guy would be parked right in
a whole series of overts. They wouldn't necessarily resolve, because that
isn't where he's stuck. He's stuck just a little bit later, in each
particular case, because - if he's stuck at all - because withholding your
body from a dogfight is a moral action. That is a moral action. It's
immoral to depart from your squadron. But to do something which is against
the survival of the squadron and withhold that is far more aberrative. Far
more aberrative.
So, the transgressions against the group: Well, that's all this thing adds
up to. That's all there is to it. That's all there is to an overt
act-motivator sequence, that is all there is to taking one apart and that
is how everybody is stuck.
Now, I'll give you - I've given you a Class II auditor skill, which is
simply "Locate the prior confusion." Now, when you locate the prior
confusion, of course, you're going to locate some prior co- motion - motion
with - and you will fall at once into an overt, and then you'll fall into
the withhold. And you keep saying "prior confusion" and you'll just go
bing-bing! See? You can force the pc's attention into the prior confusion,
they come up to the overt and they'll hit the withhold - zoomp, boomp,
bang! It's just a one, two, three, because that's the way it goes. Because
they're held on the track by the prior confusion, apparently held on the
track by the prior confusion, but only because they have a withhold later.
So it takes all three steps to park somebody on the track. It takes a prior
coaction, then it takes an overt and then it takes a withhold. And when
you've got those three things, you get a person stuck on the track, and
that's all there is to it. And that makes up the reactive bank. And that is
the anatomy of the reactive bank.
First there is coaction, then there are overts and then there are
withholds. And then that compositely gives us, eventually, a total jam of
time. And that total jam of time, totally buried, becomes the reactive
mind, and that is the reactive mind. And that's all there is to the anatomy
of the reactive mind. That's the lot.
Now, when you clear somebody, you, of course, clear those identities which
the person has more or less teamed up with, and those identities and their
now-I'm-supposed-tos and their particular withholds, and withholding these
identities, and helping the - first helping the survival of the identity,
then overts with or against the identity and then withholds with or from
the identity. And that is the goals terminal that you are running, and
that's the anatomy of the goals terminal, when you get right down to it.
When you run the Prehav Scale, you run all the sides of this thing off.
Every engram a person has, has these "stucks" that has this sequence in it.
This you will find every place. This is the pattern which is stamped all
over the universe.
Now, I would be less than kind if I didn't give you a very broad, general
process that anybody could run rather easily, but there is one which knocks
this rather heavily. There is one which is rather amusing. There is a
rather amusing experimental process about this: is you find something the
person has identified with something, and you simply tell him to think of a
mutual action with the one and then a mutual action with the other, and of
course these two identifications will spring apart.
I'm giving you an idea. You find out, quite by accident or by being smart
or something of the sort - you find out that the pc has horses and beds
totally identified. So you say, "All right. Think of a coaction, or a
mutual action with a horse. Good. Think of a mutual action with a bed.
Thank you. Think of a mutual action with a horse. Good. Think of a mutual
action with a bed. Thank you." And all of a sudden these two
identifications will spring apart.
Don't get bugged off into this, because all of a sudden, fifteen or twenty
other subjects will emerge out of that particular zone. Well, don't get him
to thinking about those too. Just keep him with horses and beds. Oh, he'll
be thinking about horses, women, beds. That's the first thing that'll
appear on the thing. Well, if you Qed and Aed with him, you'd say, "Well,
think of a horse. Think of a woman. Think of a bed. Think of a mutual
action with a woman. Think of a mutual action with a bed." That's been
suggested to him, don't you see, by the stuff that's coming up. Well, don't
Q-and-A with it because the next thing you know, he'd think in connection
with beds, laundresses, for some reason or other, you see? If you Qed and
Aed you'd say, "Think of a mutual action with a horse. Think of a mutual
action with a woman. Think of a mutual action with a bed. Think of a mutual
action with laundresses," see? And this will keep on. And you could get
about seven or eight hundred of these things, and seven or eight hundred
pieces of the auditing command. It'd be seven hundred or eight hundred
parts to the auditing command if you just kept this up. So you better not
do that. You just better say, "Think of mutual action with a horse. Think
of mutual action with a bed," and go on that way, and he will just give you
more stuff that is tearing off of the bank, because, of course, you've
found a point of direct cross.
That is not a very practical activity, but it's an interesting activity.
Here is one, however, which is very practical and is abroad, one- command
process and nothing else but. And that process is: "Tell me a group you are
no longer part of," or any phrase, phrasing thereof.
Thank you.
Audience: Thank you.



