Surveillance in New Religious Movements: Scientology As A Case Study

© Equinox Publishing Ltd.
2009, Unit 6,
RST 28.1 (2009) 63–94 Religious Studies and
doi:10.1558/rsth.v28i1.63 Religious Studies and
Surveillance in New Religious Movements: Scientology as a
Case Study
SUSAN RAINE
University of Alberta
Contemporary discourse on surveillance tends not to account for the types of
surveillance and security measures that both traditional and alternative reli-
gions adopt. Certainly, many religions have for centuries recorded, and thus,
monitored, the lives of their followers. English parish records noting lives, bap-
tisms, deaths and so forth is one such example originating in the sixteenth
century. When one thinks of contemporary surveillance, however, more so-
phisticated strategies involving new technologies typically comes to mind.
article o
lance techniques of one particular new religious movement—Scientology.
movement employs a variety of stratagems in order to preserve a high level
of secrecy regarding both its central doctrines and some of its activities.
article suggests that Scientology’s surveillance methods are driven not only by
the group’s desire to protect its interests, but also by the quest for control (and
hence, for power) that the group’s founder, L. Ron Hubbard, sought through-
out his life and left as an institutional legacy after his death.
Key Words: surveillance, new religious movements, Scientology.
Introduction
Recent years have seen an increase in academic research on the many
manifestations of surveillance in society. A range of literature explores
the materialization, development, roles and consequences of surveil-
lance systems in government, military, corporate, consumer, medi-
cal, legal and criminal justice institutions—to name just a few.
ubiquitous and multifarious nature of these surveillance technologies
has contributed to what David Lyon has termed “surveillance society”
(Lyon 1994).
the available technology: increasingly, computer dependent technolo-
64 Surveillance in New Religious Movements
© Equinox Publishing Ltd. 2009
gies dominate surveillance systems. Moreover, in the wake of the Sep-
tember 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, surveillance measures have grown a
great deal especially in terms of monitoring individuals’ movements
across national and international borders. Attendant technologies are
of a high-tech nature: increasingly, biometric data are an integral part
of surveillance strategies (Lyon 2003). Increasingly evident also is the
amalgamation of previously separate surveillance systems into what
Kevin Haggerty and Richard Ericson term the “surveillant assemblage”
(Haggerty and Ericson 2000).
Definitions of what constitutes surveillance are not always precise.
Gary T. Marx (2002) discusses the problem of traditional dictionary
definitions of surveillance that typically refer to the observation of a
“suspicious person.” Dated definitions tend also to focus on the visual
aspects of surveillance despite the multitude of ways in which we can
monitor persons, objects and space. Such definitions, he argues, are
therefore obsolete given the comprehensive nature of contemporary
surveillance (Marx 2002, 10–11). Marx identifies that surveillance
can be physical, psychological, visible, invisible, human, electronic
and so forth. Furthermore, he distinguishes between “traditional”
and “new” surveillance techniques—the latter referring to the shift to
computed based surveillance/data collection systems (see Marx 1988).
He proposes that a constructive and more wide-ranging definition of
new surveillance includes reference to “the use of technical means to
extract or create personal data.” It is di
nition that encompasses all forms of surveillance (Marx 2002, 12).
Lyon defines surveillance as, “any collection and processing of personal
data, whether identifiable or not, for the purposes of influencing or
managing those whose data has been garnered” (Lyon 2001, 2). More
recently, Lyon has reiterated and added to his definition; additionally,
he stresses, “it is crucial to remember that surveillance is always hinged
to some specific purposes” (Lyon 2007, 15). Lyon’s critique of sur-
veillance debates (mostly) the negative and problematic outcomes of
surveillance regimes and technologies especially within the context of
government, the military, bureaucracies and policing (e.g. Lyon 1994,
2001, 2007), although he does acknowledge that information gather-
Raine 65
ing does not always lead to undesirable ends (Lyon 2007, 15).
Current surveillance theorizing1 has been influenced greatly by the
work of Michel Foucault (1977) whose analysis of Jeremy Bentham’s
prison design, the Panopticon, has been instrumental in establishing
the emergence of surveillance studies in academic research (Lyon 1994,
66). Critically, despite his focus on penal and medical systems, Foucault
argued that all social institutions are able to adopt and normalize sur-
veillance measures. Moreover, he identifies that our society in general
has become one in which surveillance occupies a central role (Foucault
1977). Academic discussion and theorizing acknowledges a debt of
inspiration not only to theorists such as Foucault, but also to the
authors of fictional accounts of surveillance societies—most notably
George Orwell’s Nineteen-Eighty-Four. Other past and contemporary fic-
tional accounts also have permeated surveillance research: Aldous Huxley,
Philip K. Dick, Margaret Atwood and other authors too, have been influ-
ential, although necessarily, recent theoretical frameworks and concepts
have moved well beyond these sites of inspiration. As well, recent films
including Gattaca, Code 46 and Children of Men (based on the novel
by P.D. James) provide a new wave of cinematic representations of sur-
veillance societies—depictions that have found their way into academic
discourse as new discussions and ideas reflect concerns with current and
future surveillance technologies and their (mis)use. (For discussions of
fictional representations of surveillance societies see Haggerty and Eric-
son [2000, 606-607]; Lyon [2007, 142–145]; and Marks, [2005].)
Despite the burgeoning surveillance research that addresses the myr-
iad of surveillance technologies and their applications, little discussion
exists about the ways that religions, sects and other religious collec-
tivities monitor both their members and their social environments.
Arguably, all religions do engage in some form of monitoring of their
adherents—this process may involve traditional modes of surveillance
such as records of births, deaths, marriages, baptisms and so forth.
Marx comments that religious surveillance from the fifteenth century
on was especially rigorous.
as well as a more general monitoring of the population’s moral lives
prevailed. Church parishes were the first to keep systematic records
on individuals (Marx 2002, 17). Catholicism established elaborate
monitoring practices in order to collect information on populations,
and, the Catholic practice of confession still, as it always has, also con-
stitutes a form of surveillance of church members (Lyon 2007, 76).
Historically, this form of monitoring, however, was not a consistent
process. For example, prior to the Reformation in England, the proc-
ess of confession functioned as a form of “social discipline” in which
priests could “interrogate” individuals in order to expose criminal acts
and enforce “religious morality.”
elimination of confession and hence, individuals would only attend
confession three times a year or less (
ingly, when Catholic confession had been commonplace, an individual
attending confession frequently professed not only their own sins but
also those of their neighbours (
held knowledge pertaining to many persons in the local population.
One might argue that religious surveillance varies, depending
upon—among other factors—the size of the religious organization
and its degree of tension with mainstream society. Generally speak-
ing, one might consider that smaller religious communities tend to
use more intense levels of surveillance on their members, largely in
an e
via attendant punishments for perceived infractions) and to prevent
defection.2 Also, self-monitoring of one’s conduct and of that of other
members helps to ensure group cohesion and thus reduce the likeli-
hood of adherents questioning the groups’ practices or leaving alto-
gether. Many new religious movements, especially the more restrictive
and controversial ones sometimes labelled “cults,” operate under highly
controlled environments in which religious leaders closely follow the
day-to-day lives of their followers. Larger, more established religious
traditions probably use less encompassing surveillance measures—in
part because their followers number in the tens-of-thousands or even
millions, and also because they are more likely to live in society at large
rather than within restrictive religious environments. (Some highly
devout members, however, may choose to live within more carefully
monitored environments which gives them high status within their
Raine 67
respective faiths—for example, Catholic or Buddhist monks and nuns
living in monasteries.)
gious settings is at least in part understandable if contemporary religious

institutions are not associated with the new surveillance techniques that
are the subject of most surveillance research. If religion is more read-
ily associated with traditional surveillance methods, then it does not
attract the attention of researchers. I suggest, however, that academ-
ics are overlooking many of the ways in which traditional and new
religious movements use surveillance strategies both for monitoring
their own members and the external world, and that some of these
techniques do in fact use newer technologies. Although the approaches
that some religions use may not be of a high-tech nature, the conse-
quences of the strategies that they do employ makes them worthy of
study as they still constitute a social control practice based on the ef-
ficacy of surveillance.
at the application of it in one particular new religion—Scientology.3
we might consider “traditional,” and some others that have more in

common with the “new.” Because of the multifaceted nature of Sci-
entology and the complexity of its hierarchy, I draw mostly on Lyon’s
(2007) discussion of organizational and bureaucratic surveillance for
some of their practices. As Lyon comments, “Bureaucracies may be
found in workplaces, government departments, hospitals, schools,
prisons, churches and other religious institutions, among others” (Lyon
2007, 79 [emphasis added]).
of Scientology in terms of bureaucratic functioning is not an unusual
proposal. Hugh Urban (2006) also discusses Scientology in bureaucrat-
ic terms, and other academics too have conceptualized the movement
in this way or as a business organization (for example, see Behar 1991;
Beit-Hallahmi 2003; Kent 1999a; and Passas and Escamilla 1992).
Moreover, Urban also assesses the emergence of the movement and of
Hubbard’s policies—specifically those that reveal his need for secre-
cy—as a consequence of the period in which they emerged—the Cold
War. Urban briefly mentions surveillance in his discussion, but his arti-
cle focuses mostly on the secrecy aspect of the movement; nonetheless,
many of his observations are useful here.4
Not only does this article explore Scientology’s surveillance practic-
es using a bureaucratic motif, but also, it does so by conceptualizing
them within the context of control, discipline and power. Interestingly,
some ex-members of this group have likened Scientology’s compre-
hensive surveillance network to the constant surveillance of Orwell’s
Nineteen-Eighty-Four (Corydon 1996; Young 1997a; Young 1997b).
A reading of Nineteen-Eighty-Four, (1984 hereafter), reveals some simi-
larities between life in Oceana, the fictional surveillance state, and life
for some members of Scientology.
number of social institutions, thus similarities such as those found in
Scientology are certainly not unique in this way. Scientology provides
a particularly fascinating illustration of ways in which religious and
other ideological movements have adopted surveillance techniques as
forms of social control and discipline. Scientology uses a multi-layered
surveillance system that imposes sometimes implicit and other times
explicit forms of social control over its members, and, at times, over
critics of the group. Just as contemporary social theorists of surveillance
identify the myriad surveillance techniques and applications within
other social settings, this article suggests that Scientology’s surveillance
system is multi-dimensional, but not always apparent. Because of its
surveillance system, Scientology is able to mobilize against threats to
the stability of the group. As an extension of this protective policy,
I examine also the attendant control and disciplinary measures that
Scientology directs against its own members, and the ways in which
it monitors (and sometimes harasses) its critics. Of particular interest
also is Scientology’s adoption of unique technologies for surveillance
purposes—technologies that while are not as advanced as say contem-
porary biometric data collecting techniques—nonetheless perform
particular surveillance functions that are adapted to the specificities of
the Scientology environment. Furthermore, an important dimension
of Scientology’s surveillance system is the apparent normalization of
it—reflecting Foucault’s insight on this very process. Finally, I suggest
Raine 69
that two key reasons exist for the surveillance systems evident within
this organization—the protection of Scientology’s interests (particu-
larly financial interests) and founder, L. Ron Hubbard’s personal need
for control. Evidence exists that Hubbard was an extremely paranoid
individual—factors that would contribute to his need for surveillance
at all levels of Scientology’s organizational structure (for example,
see Corydon 1996 and Miller 1987). Furthermore, Lane and Kent
20085 propose that he may have su
a personality disorder that includes forms of paranoia that they argue
influenced some of Hubbard’s more restrictive and punitive policies
and influenced his need to create multiple levels of hierarchy (Kent
and Lane 2008).
I look now to some of the specific practices that Hubbard designed
(and that Scientology continues to use) that enable the movement to
monitor its adherents. Taken together, these practices illustrate well
Hubbard’s goal to create and protect his secret doctrines and practices,
and his ability to institutionalize this objective.
Monitoring the individual member: Auditing, E-Meters,
statistics and security checks
Lyon (1994, 91) suggests that, “Organizations employ surveillance
systems for two purposes: to keep track generally of who is observ-
ing and who is disobeying rules, and to identify and locate those in
the latter group.” Lyon refers here to institutional databases dependent
on computer technology. While the Scientology database of informa-
tion is somewhat di
both collection style and storage, it seems that the purpose remains the
same. Taken together, auditing, security checking and ethics constitute
a database in which the individual Scientologist’s behaviour is recorded
and kept on file.
the explicit intention of surveillance; when deemed necessary, discipli-
nary action follows.
Auditing and E-Meters
Central to Scientology is the process of “auditing,” Scientology’s self-
styled counselling technique. Auditing is likely the first measure of
surveillance that the Scientologist encounters and it is an ongoing
and key part of what it is to be a Scientologist. Auditing is an attrac-
tive feature of Scientology for converts to the group because the tech-
nique promises to bring the person to a state of “clear”—that is, “to
release all the physical pain and painful emotion from the life of the
individual” (Hubbard 1975, 76).
auditing brings about a healthier and better life is powerful motivation
for individuals to persevere in the Scientology hierarchy.
process typically involves a series of questions posed by the examiner or
auditor 6 and answered by the Scientologist receiving treatment—that
is, the preclear.7
repetitive commands, visualization practices and sustained eye contact.
Hubbard designed auditing to be a continuous part of the Scientology
social structure—one that requires members to continually purchase
related books, tapes, training manuals and other materials as part of
the auditing process (Whitehead 1987, 125–142).
A necessary component of auditing is the E-Meter, a small skin galva-
nometer device (Whitehead 1987, 128). Hubbard claimed that the E-
Meter registers, via electrical currents, what a person’s mind does when
he or she is told to think of something (Hubbard 1975, 137–138).
of Scientology members. In a policy letter from the early 1960s, Hub-

bard declared, “A religious confessional fails only when not guided
by a modern instrument such as the Electrometer” (Hubbard 1962,
528). Hubbard claimed that this instrument, the E-Meter, was “better
known as a ‘lie detector’ and is used to ascertain truth of background
and conduct” (Hubbard 1960, 23).
a specific piece of surveillance technology mirrors the use of devices in
other surveillance contexts. In this case, the technology records physi-
cal deviations in order to reveal “problems” within the individual. Fol-
lowing an auditing session, the preclear must go to an examiner who
analyzes the written record of the results of the auditing session (Hub-
bard 1975, 148).
as a permanent record of each member’s personal revelations, and as
Raine 71
such, constitute a form of surveillance with the potential to exact dis-
cipline and control.
Scientologists identify their progress and status within the Scientology
organizational structure. Auditing is, in part, a means of resocialization,
and as a result, new recruits to Scientology interpret their lives in terms
of their progress as mediated by the practice of auditing. Reward for
engagement in the auditing process ensures continued commitment,
and as the Scientologist attributes simultaneous life achievements to
auditing and Scientology, then membership is reinforced (Straus 1986,
71). Hubbard claimed psychic (that is, mental health) benefits came
from the use of the E-Meter, but simultaneously he used the device
to monitor his members.
allows the Scientology organization to direct its members on a hierar-
chy that calls for continual advancement and continual self-assessment
in relation to one’s peers (Straus 1986, 72–74).
individuals by monitoring the correctness of their actions (or thoughts)
contributes to individual self-regulation and successful social control
within institutional settings. One can see the benefits of auditing from
a bureaucratic perspective. In contrast to the modern form of Catholic
confession in which the confessor can remain anonymous, Scientol-
ogy’s form of confession through auditing produces records on people
to which various Scientology o
confession as surveillance becomes even more pronounced, however,
in Security Checking—a procedure that I discuss shortly.
sures that Scientologists always have another level of achievement to-

ward which to strive.
part of what Hubbard termed “
according to Scientology, takes the Scientologist to “a higher plateau
of existence” (Church of Scientology International 1993, 98). Scien-
tology has no end point—upper management frequently invents new
courses and new levels of status. As a result, the administrative and
bureaucratic echelons of Scientology sustain their surveillance over
members and simultaneously maintain their financial income as new
courses and new revised “corrections” of older material incur further
costs for members. Nikos Passas and Manuel Escamilla Castillo (1992)
conclude that Scientology operates on business principles, and that
it provides a product much sought after—namely, status within an
organization. Both auditing sessions and training courses cost the Sci-
entologist up to many hundreds, if not thousands of dollars; thus, close
surveillance of members strives to ensure control, continued member-
ship, and a steady (and considerable) income for Scientology. In addi-
tion to auditing, the marketing department encourages Scientologists
to take countless training courses that purport to either enhance the
individual’s spiritual wellbeing, further his or her abilities to cope with
life, and further Scientology’s reach on the planet.
arguably the most important from the group’s perspective—one of the
key goals of Scientology is to “Clear the Planet”—that is, to convert all
people to Scientology. Scientology members come to believe that the
betterment of the entire planet through Scientology technology is an
attainable goal, thus, they ardently strive to achieve this end.
Statistics
Auditors mediate auditing through the E-Meter, but they record the
results of this process with statistics or “stats.” Hubbard’s reasoning
was simple: “
statistics” (Hubbard 1970a, 436 [emphasis added]). As Straus (1986)
comments, organizations commonly use statistics to symbolize the
e
organization (Straus 1986, 72). Furthermore, Wallis (1977) identi-
fied that Scientology statistics maintain bureaucratic control of indi-
viduals through o
hierarchy monitor individuals’ statistics on a weekly basis (Wallis 1977,
137). Hubbard based individuals’ statistics on many factors including
income, rates of dissemination of Scientology material, and success-
ful proselytization (Hubbard 1965a, 328–329). Hubbard rewarded
and punished members according to their statistics, and he clearly
emphasized the importance of always disciplining downward trends in
a person’s stats, and always rewarding upward trends (Hubbard 1970b,
57–58). He proclaimed, “Penalty after the fact has occurred disciplines
Raine 73
the criminals and does not pull down the majority to criminal level”
(Hubbard 1968a, 327 [emphasis in the original]).8
“Ethics” division, a key surveillance system that I explore more ful-
ly later in this article, monitors members’ statistics. Statistics are an
abstract measure of surveillance that exact a psychological response in
Scientology’s members—one must be ever conscious of one’s actions
to avoid downward stats and the concordant punishment.
criminalization of the lower levels of stats functions to encourage mem-
bers to maintain constant vigilance over their own behaviours as they
try to make positive gains and high statistical scores.
Security checking
Hubbard established a process called Security Checking, which uses an
E-Meter reputedly to detect infringements of the Scientology code of
conduct. According to Hubbard, Security Checking is “remedying the
compulsion or obsession to commit acts which have to be withheld,
i.e. we are remedying unreasonable action.” He continues, “A check is
made to see whether a person has any counter-intentions toward Scn
or Scientology Churches (Hubbard 1975, 376 [emphasis in original]).
Although Hubbard o
rity Checking in 1968 (Hubbard 1968b, 486), former members attest
to its persistence (Atack 1990, 147–152; Corydon 1996, 150; Pignotti
1989; Young 1997b). Moreover, later Scientology publications refer to
it (e.g. Hubbard, 1975, 379). Hubbard initially introduced Security
Checks into Scientology policy in 1960, and over a period of time
Security Checks became known also as Integrity Processing and Con-
fessional Auditing. Regardless of the terminology, the function of the
procedure remains the same.
sometimes hundreds of specific questions that probe his or her exact
thoughts, attitudes and behaviours (Atack 1990, 147). As a spoken
exchange of information, Security Checking is a form of verbal sur-
veillance similar to—although substantitively quite di
the traditional religious confessional. According to Lyon’s discussion of
Foucault, the Catholic confessional originated verbal surveillance. In
the modern era, this form of monitoring has shifted from the religious
setting to other social realms. For example, a variety of questionnaires,
surveys and other communicative exchanges confront us within other
institutions including medical and legal ones. Each type constitutes a
form of confessional (Lyon 1994, 208–209). In the case of Security
Checking, the confessional nature of the exercise is explicit. Unlike its
Catholic counterpart, the Security Check is not voluntary. Drawing on
Foucault, Lyon comments: “
sional, control” (Lyon 1994, 209). In a similar manner, the possession
of power lies with the Scientology auditor and his or her superiors,
and the Security Check e
rity Checking questions scrutinize an enormous range of thoughts and
behaviours. Examples of questions include “Are you guilty of any-
thing?” (Hubbard 1961a, 275–281); “Have you ever betrayed Scien-
tology?” (Hubbard 1977); “Have you ever been a traitor?” and “Did
you come to Earth for evil purposes? (Hubbard 1961b, 337–346).
list of o
many of the questions reveals Hubbard’s intense preoccupation with
scrutiny and surveillance. Notable other questions include “Do you
have a secret you are afraid I’ll find out?”; “Have you ever acted as an
informer?”; “Have you ever been pronounced insane?”; “Do you ever
intend to destroy Scientology?”; “Have you ever intended to betray
LRH? (L. Ron Hubbard)”; “Do you intend to reveal any confiden-
tial data?”; “Have you ever broken security?” (Hubbard 1977); “Have
you ever enslaved a population?”; “Have you ever torn out someone’s
tongue?”; “Have you ever wiped out a family?”; “Do you deserve to be
free?”; “Do you deserve to be enslaved?”; and “Have you ever acted as
a double agent?” (Hubbard 1961b). As well as constituting an espe-
cially probing line of questioning, many of the questions that Hubbard
includes in Security Checking seem to indicate an extreme pre-occu-
pation with betrayal—one of the symptoms of malignant narcissism
(Ronningstam quoted in Lane and Kent 2008, 21).
Auditors use the E-Meter to check for fluctuations that “confirm”
the withholding of information, and then they record the answers
and keep them on file for future reference. Often, members reveal
their most personal secrets, endeavouring to conform to Scientology’s
Raine 75
norms, and thus further their position in the hierarchy.
benefit for Scientology is a record of members’ confessions that are
available for future, and, according to some critics, allegedly coercive
purposes (Atack 1990, 147). Former Scientologist, Bent Corydon,
compared the use of Security Checking with the
incessant pursuit of thoughtcrime in Orwell’s 1984. He maintains that
Scientology punished members for having any critical thoughts about
Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard, and through this punishment (and
fear of it) members learned to think only positive thoughts (Corydon
1996, 150–151). From a bureaucratic perspective, the monitoring of
individual performance for organizational goals makes sense. Larger
goals are more attainable when component parts function for their
advancement. For Lyon, “Bureaucracy is a basic mode of surveillance
because of its supervisory and information gathering capacities” (Lyon
2007, 79). Drawing on Weber’s analyses of bureaucratic practices, he
reiterates the importance of “hierarchy of o
munication channels flow, [and] the use of files and of secrecy about
some matters . . .” (Lyon 2007, 79). Scientology practices involve enor-
mous amounts of data gathering on individual members; moreover,
the movement employs one of the hallmarks of bureaucratic surveil-
lance—classification of members (Lyon 2007, 80–81).
cratic structure of Scientology in combination with its secret society
style hierarchy (Urban 2006, 369) has e
surveillance system in the movement. Taken together, one can identify
that auditing, statistics and security checking constitute an intense lev-
el of organizational scrutiny of individual members—a form of surveil-
lance that serves to classify and organize its members whilst at the same
time encouraging them to adopt the type of self-monitoring practices
that make each individual part of the group’s umbrella of intense social
control. Some commentators on Scientology’s monitoring of its own
members have likened the movement to the CIA and FBI (Burroughs
cited in Urban 2006, 373). As the following section illustrates, social
control and discipline take on some unique forms within Scientology.
Ethics: Surveillance, social control and discipline
Senior members can summon to “Ethics” any person suspected of
infractions against Scientology rules (a body that Young (1997b)
equates with Orwell’s
integral part of Scientology’s institutional e
members (Strauss 1986, 71). Hubbard understood the importance of
control: he attested that “the purpose of ethics is to remove counter
intentions from the environment” (Hubbard 1976, 179), a “counter-
intention” being “a determination to follow a goal which is in direct
conflict with that known to be the goal of the originator and the
goals of the group...” (Hubbard 1976, 115–116). An assigned “Eth-
ics O
extension, “Ethics” is part of Scientology’s policing and justice system
(Straus 1986, 72). As part of this monitoring procedure, the “Ethics”
division maintains files on all Scientology members—senior members
log ethics infractions into the file. Accumulation of minor o
the occurrence of a major o
the individual (Straus 1986, 72–73).
Scientology requires its members to report their associates for Ethics
infractions or “crimes.” Failure to do so is, in itself, an act of criminal
deviance (Straus 1986, 73). Scientology demands that members write
o
suspected of “crimes.” Scientologists take this requirement seriously as,
“
the surveillance system often makes spies of its own members. Knowl-
edge Reports are just one of many written records collected on Scien-
tologists—a total of twenty-one di
the organization.
type of report on file (Hubbard 1965b, 402–404). Hubbard explicitly
defined four categories of Scientology o
ours, crimes and high crimes. Each category contains a comprehensive
list of violations, documenting the slightest to the most significant of-
fences (Hubbard, 1970b, 37–52). Straus (1986) notes that the “Ethics”
system tries to ensure that Scientologists conform to the norms of the
organization by contributing to their resocialization into “Scientolo-
Raine 77
gists” above all other identities. He comments, “Ethics as a social con-
trol system is explicitly designed to structure conduct through identity
management” (Straus 1986, 76–77). One can observe the importance
again of classification to order, discipline and control.
As a measure of internal surveillance, the Scientology “Ethics” sys-
tem operates at the psychological level.
psychological conformity; members must self-monitor their thoughts,
beliefs, attitudes and behaviours in order to evade suspicion, reprimands
and punishment.
tor one’s actions is an e
e
immediate and future use. Like the information collected in auditing,
statistics and security checking, the “Ethics” files create a specific set of
power relations within the movement. Foucault identifies the impor-
tance of knowledge held by those in power in organizational settings.
they contain.
possess power, and, consequently can e
on file (Lyon 2007, 83). “Ethics” ensured that Hubbard maintained
complete power over the outcomes of individual decisions made by
member Scientologists. His surveillance system, therefore, also acted
to maintain Hubbard’s control and power over his organization and
its members, and it continues that function to this day. Not only does
Scientology’s monitoring system address its own adherents, but also
it directs its attention to the beliefs and actions of other individuals
and organizations.
scrutiny—sometimes in well publicized ways.
Surveillance of alternative viewpoints: Entheta
Scientologists and Scientology’s critics.

of external surveillance, and a means by which Scientology attempts
to impose its scrutiny on those who are not part of the organization.
High Crimes, also known as “Suppressive Acts,” are the most serious
of “Ethics” o
GROUP is one that actively seeks to suppress or damage Scientology
or a Scientologist by Suppressive Acts” (Hubbard 1970b, 48 [empha-
sis in original]). Such acts include testifying in a court of law against
Scientology, bringing forth a civil suit against Scientology or any of its
members, and the resignation of a member from Scientology courses
and sessions (Hubbard 1970b, 49). Scientology regards all Suppres-
sive Persons (SPs) as enemies. Because Scientology’s upper manage-
ment monitors and condemns the actions of many people external to
the group, Scientology fosters a suspicion of all people who are not
members of its organization. Furthermore, Scientology convinces its
members to believe that all forms of media about Scientology that Sci-
entology does not produce or advocate are “entheta” (Corydon 1996,
436). Hubbard defined entheta as “embroidered reports” (Hubbard
1976, 175), and as “communications, which, based on lies and confu-
sions are slanderous, choppy or destructive in an attempt to suppress a
person or group” (Hubbard 1975, 144). According to Hubbard, “EN-
THETA IS THE SOLE STOCK IN TRADE OF THE SP” (Hubbard
1965c, 429 [emphasis in the original]). Consequently, Scientologists
are supposed to ignore all media designated entheta.
From the group’s perspective, the concept of entheta is self-protective.
Exposure to material that in any way denigrates or even merely que-
ries Scientology’s practices may cause members to question and per-
haps abandon their adopted worldview, and organizationally, defection
results in loss of revenue.
ures in order to maintain its secret doctrines makes good business
sense: “In the case of Scientology, secrecy and access to valued infor-
mation are also clearly tied to a powerful economic hierarchy, as well”
(Urban 2006, 327). Scientologists purchase the Scientology belief
system in instalments—they obtain the group’s secret doctrines only
when they have proceeded through a complex (and costly) series of
training courses that take many years to complete.
ing information in the public realm about Scientology’s secret doc-
trines is crucial to the continued success of the group. Essentially, the
surveillance of information about Scientology in the public domain is
a way in which the group protects its trade secrets.
Raine 79
the Internet as the movement’s surveillance has extended into the realms
of cyberspace. In response to the World Wide Web, Scientology issues
its members with software for their computers that blocks access to In-
ternet web sites that contain information that o
even just quizzical about, those of Scientology and its leaders. Dubbed
the “ScienoSitter” (Ross 1998) by Scientology’s critics, Scientology
disseminates the software to members via a program that encourages
them to design their own “I am a Scientologist” web page. Scientology
web co-ordinators review member website outlines, then they install
the web page along with the Scientology filter system (Brown, 1998).
“ScienoSitter” blocks over one thousand Internet sites including those
of critics, ex-members, universities, newspapers, newsgroups, lawyers
and authors (Operation Clambake 2003).9
the group uses the very technology that it finds threatening to monitor
and limit the cyber behaviours of its members.
Scientology designs its surveillance of cyberspace to keep its mem-
bers ignorant of the current controversies surrounding the group, but
arguably, the most important function of “ScienoSitter” is the pro-
tection of Scientology’s financial interests. An abundance of websites
exist that detail not only Scientology’s practices, but also its secret doc-
trines. One of the most important of these doctrines is O.T. III, which
appears in a course that is central to Scientology because it reveals
Hubbard’s controversial beliefs about the emergence and nature of
human existence. Nearly two decades ago, reporter Richard Behar
(1991) indicated that the cost of O.T. III alone was $17,010. (
did not include the costs incurred for prerequisite courses.) To obtain
O.T. VIII, the accumulated costs ranged from $200,000 to $400,000.
Furthermore, Scientology teaches its members that to view—even un-
intentionally—doctrine intended for disclosure only at a level higher
than one’s current status, is dangerous to one’s well-being. As a result,
the stratified revelation process operates as another method of member
control (Wallis 1977, 125).
problematic for Scientology because it o

rum for the dissemination of such valued information. In order to
preserve its secrecy of doctrine and combat freedom of speech on
the Internet, Scientology has responded with litigation (or the
threat thereof [Lippard and Jacobsen 1995, 35–41]). In 2002, Sci-
entology attempted to prevent search engine, Google from fa-
cilitating access to counter-Scientology sites, claiming copyright
infringement (Sherman 2002). Because Hubbard’s retelling of the his-
tory of humankind in O.T. III tells Scientology members a new “truth”
about human existence, it is understandable that Scientology desires
absolute control over this doctrine, and its members’ access to it.
group’s belief system resocializes its members to believe in an alterna-
tive past.
from mainstream society—influences their future behaviours. Moreo-
ver, Hubbard presented himself as a consummate man of knowledge,
responsible for all manner of discoveries, inventions and revelations
of “truths” (Atack 1990, 45–88; Church of Scientology International
1993, 25–56).
securing power over information, and consequently he increased his
control over Scientology members.
Scientology’s surveillance of problematic media (entheta), functions
to control access to external sources of information. Members learn
to fear exposure to material that they are not “ready for,” once again
learning to self-monitor.
dependent, at least in part, on the control of information to its mem-
bers through surveillance technologies.
sents a “new” surveillance technique as opposed to the more traditional
file-based methods that Scientology frequently uses.
surveillance measures reveal the multitude of ways in which Scientol-
ogy monitors its internal and external environments.
Surveillance with intent to silence
Scientology’s surveillance strategies extend to critics, or in Scientology
parlance, “Suppressive Persons.” Once labelled a Suppressive Person,
the individual may be subject to “Fair Game,” and as such, “May be
deprived of property or injured by any means by any Scientologist with-
Raine 81
out any discipline of the Scientologist. May be tricked, sued or lied to
or destroyed.” (Hubbard 1967 [emphasis added]). On paper, Hubbard
abandoned the Fair Game policy because of the negative press and
attention it drew (Hubbard 1968d, 489). In practice, however, Scien-
tology continues to monitor and harass critics, including ex-members
who have inside knowledge of the Scientology belief system and code
of conduct. In the group’s attempts to observe and censor any and all
information critical of Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard, many indi-
viduals have been harassed and threatened including politicians, jour-
nalists, government agencies, psychiatrists, doctors and the American
Medical Association (Whitehead 1987, 220–222). In addition, authors
and academics who research the movement have also been subject to
surveillance and harassment.
Author Paulette Cooper su
publishing her book,
sive and sustained campaign against Cooper, Scientology filed several
lawsuits against her and tried to implicate her in terrorist activities.
Fair Game attack on Cooper was code-named “Operation Freakout”
by Scientology’s intelligence and operations bureau at the time, the
Guardian’s O
tution or prison (Atack 1990, 223–224). Cooper recounted her ordeal
in a City Council hearing about Scientology in Clearwater, Florida
where she exposed many forms of surveillance that the Guardian’s
O
her, attempted to break into her apartment, and succeeded in burglar-
izing her lawyer’s o
she was innocent of indictments that a grand jury had levelled against
her (for alleged bomb threats to Scientology and then committing
perjury about them). Scientology’s persistent campaigns to destroy its
perceived enemies are well documented (Behar 1991; Beit-Hallahmi
2003; Kent 1999a; Miller 1987; Urban 2006, and Wallis 1973). Aca-
demic Roy Wallis described the harassment he received from Scien-
tology while working on his PhD at Stirling University in Scotland.
Because he wrote his dissertation on Scientology, Wallis experienced
threatening phone calls, visits from undercover Scientology members,
and several attempts to implicate him in drug activities and associa-
tion with a right-wing group (Wallis 1973, 54). Likewise, academic,
Dr Stephen Kent, has experienced Scientology scrutiny and harass-
ment. For example, two editions of Scientology’s Freedom newspa-
per included commentaries against him (Freedom 1998, 8; Freedom
2001, 6). Probably the most well known example of Scientology’s sur-
veillance of media and its attempt to foster fear and therefore instil
media self censorship was its lawsuit against Time magazine for its 1991
award-winning article on Scientology, “
and Power,” by journalist Richard Behar.
Scientology’s more controversial practices and of some of the question-
able credentials to which Hubbard had accredited himself. Scientology
took aggressive action against both Time magazine and author, Behar.
using several private detectives and more than ten lawyers to monitor
his activities and unearth his personal details including all his finan-
cial and government records (Behar 1991, 39). Scientology sued Time
magazine for $416 million, but a court dismissed the suit in 1996.
and others who research the group illustrates Scientology’s intention

to try to silence any critical discourse about it. Fear of Scientology-
launched litigation of academic, journalistic, legal and other commu-
nities constitutes a potential compromise to freedom of speech (see
Kumar 1997).
Surveillance at the highest level: Operation Snow White
In 1979 and 1980, eleven leading members of Scientology were con-
victed for organizing a conspiracy to steal government documents
from the Justice Department, the United States Attorney’s o
the Internal Revenue Service, and for electronically bugging a govern-
ment meeting (Mann 1979; United States District Court 1979; Unit-
ed States District Court 1980).
nearly a decade of covert Scientology operations under the control of
its Guardian’s O
now fall under the O
Raine 83
tology, the key function of which was “public relations, legal actions,
and the gathering of intelligence” (Atack 1990, 165). Indisputably, the
Guardian’s O
Scientology organization.
In the early 1970s, United States governmental organizations be-
gan to accumulate and store information on Scientology activities. In
order to clean up its image, Scientology devised a plan to break into
the relevant government o
its perspective, false—information about it. Code-named “Operation
Snow White,” the plan placed Scientology operatives within the Inter-
nal Revenue Service and other government institutions. Scientologist
Gerald Wolfe, for example, worked in a secretarial position for the
IRS in Washington, where he illegally photocopied and then stole over
thirty thousand pages of government documentation on Scientology
(United States District Court 1979, 53. See 42, 58–59, 81–83, 88–89,
253
tactics after a librarian and a security guard saw two unknown people
photocopying at a U.S. courthouse in Washington D.C. and called the
agency (United States District Court 1979, 169
FBI conducted raids of the Los Angeles and Washington, D.C. Guard-
ian’s O
illegal surveillance activities (Corydon 1996, 160–171).
tion of Evidence for the subsequent court case against Mary Sue Hub-
bard (Hubbard’s wife) and other high-ranking Scientologists revealed
Guardian O
Department and the O
States.
impersonation, use of bugging devices and theft of documents (United
States District Court 1979).
In 1992, a court found the Church of Scientology, Toronto guilty
of two counts of criminal breach of trust and fined it $250,000 for
spying on police and government o
of Ontario.
the organization some fifteen years prior, in which two Scientology
spies had infiltrated the o
lice, the Ontario Provincial Police, Revenue Canada, and the On-
tario Attorney-General’s o
activities was to determine how much information authorities had
on Scientology’s activities in Canada (Claridge 1992; Darroch 1992;
Dunphy 1992).
lengths the movement has gone to in order to advance its observa-

tion of the non-Scientology environment.
niques are of the espionage and counter espionage form that
Urban (2006) discusses.
Surveillance, military style:
tology’s “Sea Org.” According to Hubbard, the purpose of the Sea Org,
“is to get ethics in on the planet and eventually the universe” (Hub-
bard 1975, 375).
regulatory level of Scientology. It consists of the most dedicated of
Scientology’s members, and of these, the most elite at one time lived
aboard Hubbard’s ship, Apollo. (Hubbard established a small fleet of
ships under his military-style command in order to spread Scientology
on a global level [Whitehead 1987, 36].) Today the Sea Org is based
at the Flag Land Base in Clearwater, Florida.
now the organization’s only seafaring vessel. Former Scientologist and
public relations o
many aspects of his twenty-two years as a high-ranking Scientologist to
the experiences of Party members in 1984. Young asserted that Hub-
bard considered individual privacy suspect in Scientology’s Sea Org.
Consequently, spending time alone, away from Scientology duties is
“unethical, selfish and probably a sign of criminality” (Young 1997b).
In the Scientology world, such “counter intentions” are undesirable.
Sea Org inspectors keep constant watch over members to ensure that
they possess no unapproved reading material, letters or written notes.
Sea Org members are subject to routine and unannounced inspection
regardless of whether it is day or night, or if the member is awake,
asleep, in the bedroom or the bathroom (Young 1997b).
Raine 85
structure.
guilty of deviation from Sea Org norms (Kent 1999c, 2000, 2001).
A weekly “Ethics Condition” detects such deviations, since it involves
a procedure that Hubbard designed to monitor members’ individual
achievements.
couches performance in terms of “stats,” and punishes even a small
downward trend (Atack 1990, 172). According to former members,
punishment has taken the form of both forced manual labour and in-
tensive re-programming in Sea Org conduct, placing the members un-
der considerable psychological and physical duress (Kent 1999c, 7–8;
Kent 2000, 21–42; Kent 2001, 356). Ex-members have described the
lack of sleep, lack of basic hygiene, lack of adequate food, the demands
of forced physical exercise, and the required auditing at the end of each
day that they had to endure. Furthermore, most accounts included
reference to surveillance by guards who were positioned to ensure that
members remained at their duties (Kent 2000).
those assigned to the RPF, provide the organization with intimate

and deeply personal information about members’ lives. Such sur-
veillance tactics also operate as a disciplinary measure by instilling
great fear in these full-time Scientology workers.
the RPF function as both physical and psychological forms of sur-
veillance of its members. During the period in Scientology’s history
when Sea Org members lived and worked in close quarters on Scien-
tology ships (from early 1967 to early 1976 [Miller 1987, 268–338]),
members were in constant close contact, both with each other and
with their superiors.
monitor them, as well as for sta
er, was continuous. After Hubbard created the RPF in January 1974
and continuing to the present period, the threat of the RPF keeps
Scientologists in constant fear of their performance as Sea Org mem-
bers. Once again, self-monitoring to avoid punishment and to try to
improve one’s status means that individuals endure a rigorous surveil-
lance regime.
Additional miscellaneous surveillance
tal methods of surveillance. Aside from these strategies, there exist a

variety of other, often creative ways in which the movement monitors
its members, the internal Scientology environment, and also the exter-
nal world. Journalists have written, for example, about Scientology’s
presence in the city of Clearwater, Florida, home to one of Scientol-
ogy’s headquarters. For years, many of the city’s residents have sparred
with the group over its policies and practices. Several surveillance issues
have emerged in this city, including Scientology’s procurement of local
o
Petersburg Times 2001). As well, residents have expressed concern over
the proliferation of Scientology surveillance cameras on Scientology
property, but aimed at public space (Jacobsen 2000). “It is impossible
to go anywhere in downtown Clearwater without being watched by
security cameras,” comments Janet Reitman for Rolling Stone maga-
zine (Reitman 2006, 3). Moreover, Clearwater is burdened with the
legacy of the death of Scientologist, Lisa McPherson while under Sci-
entology surveillance (see Kent 1999c, 4 and Touretzky and Alexander
2003 for a discussion of this incident).
One can find additional instances of surveillance elsewhere. A unique
and creative form of surveillance exists in Scientology maximum-securi-
ty study facilities where the group keeps its advanced (and secret) O.T.
courses. Access to the material requires a plethora of identification pro-
cedures, and when one does finally obtain access, camera surveillance is
all around.
however, is that the secret texts quite literally are electrically “plugged-in”
to a security system.
an electrical outlet. When a Scientologist unplugs a course book, he or
she has only a few seconds to replug it at the designated reading area to
avoid security alarms going o
intriguing measure is just another example of the unusual techniques
that Scientology uses to establish systems of surveillance and control.
In another unusual move, the group requires all Scientologists to sign
a contract that denies them of any right to sue Scientology, and gives
Raine 87
the organization full control over their members’ mental and physi-
cal well-being. By signing the contract, members relinquish the right
to have contact with family, friends and medical professionals during
periods of mental breakdown or distress.
of the aforementioned Lisa McPherson case, and critics have dubbed
it “
2003, 90). By signing the contract, Scientologists ostensibly forfeit
their rights to question or challenge the group’s surveillance of them.
Conclusion
Hubbard skilfully designed a surveillance system that became an
integral part of what Scientology is and what Scientology does. As this
article argues, Hubbard’s need for surveillance, and the group’s con-
tinued need and use of it, emerged initially for a number of reasons
including Hubbard’s desire for financial success and his personal need
for power and control. His own desires became enmeshed in his or-
ganizational design of the movement and very likely were fuelled also
by his paranoid need for secrecy (Urban 2006); a need that possibly is
indicative of mental health problems that he may have endured (Lane
and Kent 2008). Urban (2006) reflects on Hubbard’s obsession with
secrecy, espionage and communism, and Lane and Kent (2008) pro-
pose that he was a malignant narcissist (one of the symptoms of which
is paranoia). Combining these arguments with those that I make in
this article, it seems that Hubbard’s development of a complex surveil-
lance system was inevitable.
Scientology’s surveillance measures combine to form a powerful con-
stellation of social control that slowly immerses its members into its
norms so that the surveillance is not obvious, but instead is a presence
integrated with doctrine and belief. As Gary Marx (1995) reminds us,
however, “Surveillance technology is not simply applied; it is also expe-
rienced by users, subjects, and audiences” (Marx 1995, 107 [emphasis
in original]). One might therefore ask, to what extent are Scientologists
aware of the surveillance measures?
many reasons. Many di
tology and some are of a form that people do not intuitively recognize
as surveillance. (
ety.) One might also surmise that even those members who understand
that some of the processes in which they participate are indeed forms
of surveillance, may believe that the end goal is worth the loss of some
privacy. Drawing on Bourdieu, Urban remarks upon the importance of
secrecy to religion (and other institutions): “Among other things, secre-
cy works by transforming ordinary knowledge into a scarce resource—
something that is rare, precious, and highly sought.
this scarce resource in turn bestows the mark of distinction, prestige
and honor—or, to use Pierre Bourdieu’s phrase, “symbolic capital”—
upon its owner” (Urban 2006, 363). Scientology bestows in its follow-
ers a great deal of admiration and awe at the possibility of transforming
not only their own lives but also those of every individual on the planet.
Attaining the alleged secret power and knowledge to achieve these goals
is undoubtedly a very attractive proposition—particularly for individu-
als who are seeking great changes in their lives.
Despite Hubbard’s death on January 17th, 1986, Scientology has
continued under the leadership of David Miscavige. Born into Sci-
entology, Miscavige has apparently inherited some of Hubbard’s pre-
occupations. Behar describes him as “obsessed with security” (Behar
1991, 34). Moreover, those that have left Scientology “describe him
as cunning, ruthless and so paranoid about perceived enemies that he
kept plastic wrap over his glass of water” (Behar 1991, 33). Miscavige
has continued to lead the group in a manner similar to Hubbard.
not only has the current leadership maintained Hubbard’s approach to
secrecy and surveillance, but also it has reinforced the institutionaliza-
tion of it through the next generation of Scientology membership.
Notes
1. For an overview of surveillance theorizing and research see Lyon (2007).
2. Religions such as the Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints (FLDS),
with its small communities and intense scrutiny of members’ movements—
especially those of the women—is a good example. (For in depth accounts of
FLDS communities, see Krakauer, 2003 and Solomon, 2003.)
of God/the Family, the Rajneeshes, the Peoples Temple and Heaven’s Gate all
are examples of smaller religious movements that had smaller group environ-
Raine 89
ments in which members were under the close scrutiny of group leaders and/
or other members.
3.
For details of the ongoing debate in the United States and elsewhere over
Scientology’s claim to religious standing, see Bainbridge and Stark (1980);
Behar (1991); Beit-Hallahmi (2003); Bromley, David G. and Bracey, Mitchell
(1998); Kent (1999b); Kent (1999c); and Melton (2000).
4. In addition to highlighting the lack of academic theory addressing religion and
secrecy, Urban also reflects on the role of researchers when it comes to religion,
secrecy, rights to privacy and the public’s rights to information. He proposes
that whilst scholars should respect religious rights to privacy, they have a re-
sponsibility to discuss any “exploitative or oppressive” aspects of religious and
other movements (Urban, 2006: 360, 384).
5.
http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/~skent/Linkedfiles/Lane-Kent_HubbardsNarcis-
sism_EN_December08-2008.pdf
6. A trained auditor undergoes extensive training prior to guiding auditing ses-
sions. For a full account of auditor training and the process of auditing, see
Whitehead (1987, 125–167).
7. A preclear is a member of Scientology who has not yet reached the state of
“clear”—a Scientology term used to describe a Scientologist who lives without
“irrational data” and “aberration” in his or her mind (Whitehead 1987, 62–63).
8. In Scientology, a “criminal” is “one who is unable to think of the other fellow,
unable to determine his own actions, unable to follow orders, unable to make
things grow, unable to determine the di
to think at all on the future. Anybody has some of these; the criminal has ALL
of them.” (Hubbard 1975, 97). Scientologists, however, also define psychia-
trists, psychologists, and critics as criminals. (Hubbard, 1982)
9.
“ScienoSitter.” Operation Clambake, located at <www.xenu.net> is one of the
larger counter-Scientology websites, and is of course, blocked by “ScienoSitter.”
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Surveillance in New Religious Movements: Scientology As A Case Study

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gious settings is at least in part understandable if contemporary religious

at the application of it in one particular new religion—Scientology.3

we might consider “traditional,” and some others that have more in

of Scientology members. In a policy letter from the early 1960s, Hub-

sures that Scientologists always have another level of achievement to-

Scientologists and Scientology’s critics.

problematic for Scientology because it o

and others who research the group illustrates Scientology’s intention

lengths the movement has gone to in order to advance its observa-

those assigned to the RPF, provide the organization with intimate

tal methods of surveillance. Aside from these strategies, there exist a

———. 1960. “Security Checks.” HCO Bulletin, in

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