View source for Basic Theory of CCHs (FC 570705)

'''Series:''' Freedom Congress (FC)

'''Date:''' 05 July 1957

'''Speaker:''' L. Ron Hubbard

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← [[Lecture_Index_FC|Back to Series]]

Thank you. Thank you.
Okay. Today I did want to take up, then—if you’ve asked me to, I will—I did want to take up
CCH and some of the various aspects of it.
Well, now, there’s practically nothing you don’t know already about this. The sober truth of
the matter is, you do know all there is to know about this. Otherwise, I couldn’t tell you a thing
about it at all.
And the game here has been trying to find out what postulates you’ve made to get you in this
much trouble.
You’ve sure been busy!
Very few people will recognize the actual constitution organization—of Scientology as being
based entirely upon what life made up its mind to be. Somebody comes along and speaks to me
about “my theories.” Ha! It’s always somebody who isn’t taking very much ownership of their
own.
My theories: I’m glad I’ve added very few of my theories to this. There were enough there
already. Because, you remember, I had a little experience in the field of fiction writing. And if I
really wanted to add some theories onto this, we could get fancy!
Yes, sir. Yes, sir. It’s quite remarkable, though, that only—those people who speak about “my
theories,” you know, to me, they say to me, “Well, Ron, your theories about this and that . . .”
you get them in a processing session, and they don’t move, you know? They’re not right up
there on top right away and so on.
Well, what coincidence is there here? What coordination is there between these two things?
Well, one is that if an individual has assigned proper ownership to postulates, proper
ownership to existence and to creations in existence, they are relatively weakened. They are not
fixed concrete.
The way you want to get something to be fixed concrete is very simple. I’ll just give you a little
example of this. You want me to give you an example?
Audience: Yes. Sure.
All right. Take that curtain there. Now, let’s get the idea that John McCormick owns that
curtain entirely. He is the sole proprietor. Can you look at it and get that idea? Hm?
Well now, look at it and get that idea more thoroughly. Get a conviction that this is the case.
Now sort of wonder what it’s doing up here, since he owns it entirely.
Well, by now that curtain ought to either look more solid or rather peculiar. All right. Now get
the more proper idea that that curtain is simply part of the physical universe. Now, get what
your earlier conviction was, that it’s the property of the Shoreham Hotel.
Audience: Mm. Mm-hm. Yeah.
All right. Now get the idea that you own it exclusively. You’re the only person that owns it, the
sole proprietor and nobody else can have any use of it. It’s right there.
Okay, now answer this. Is there any differences to the appearance of the curtain as you do
those things?
Audience: Yes. Yes.
Do you have any difference of concept concerning the texture or solidity of the curtain?
Audience: Yes.
Well, the truth of the matter is, you can take an engram that you yourself made with your own
little theta paws—shaped it up, grooved it, put in all the bad perceptions—and you could say
“Mother did that!” The engram come— clunk!
You say, “Well, maybe that’s not the right answer to it. Father had a hand in it, too.” Clunk!
Then we say, “It was really made by this universe and they’re all against me,” see? Then you
can dramatize it, see?
Ownership. Unless one assigns the proper ownership to energy, masses, thoughts, postulates,
and so on—proper cause, in other words—he gets at the wrong end of the communication line.
Unless he says, to some degree, the truth concerning the proprietor or the creator, unless he
says this with some accuracy, why, he gets a very great deal of solidity, which he can then do
very little with.
By assigning improper ownership to things, one then gets a continuation or perpetuation of the
item or object. And the reason one does it is called havingness. This is one of the minor tricks
that a thetan pulls in order to continue to have something to have, which he can’t duplicate, so
it’ll give him trouble.
If you continued to blame Henry Ford for your automobile or for the numbers of automobiles
on the highways, actually automobiles would get thinner to you. So it’s better to blame the
police, or somebody, see? And then automobiles get thicker.
To give you an idea of this: You say, “This is my body. I have this body, and I am the one
who has this body and I am the sole proprietor of this body. I created this body. I am this
body”—all kinds of nonsense of this character, you see and never give the family a break or the
genetic line a hat tip, see? One day you’re in an auditing session and somebody says, “Be three
feet back of your head”—they don’t do that anymore, but you just get there. It’s different.
You are in an auditing session, and the time comes when you should exteriorize, take a broader
look at things. Concrete. Heavy. Mass. Can’t get out of it. The body is thick, heavy, solid,
merely because you put into action this favorite trick of yours: To make solids it’s only
necessary to misown.
Of course, from the beginning it wasn’t your body. It isn’t your body. Couple of people in the
audience just at that moment said, “Zzzth! I’ve been found out!” They did, didn’t they?
An interesting factor here: If you assign exactly proper ownership to the body and insist on it
and think that way, hard, fast and thoroughly, the body has a tendency to get rather thin, rather
flimsy. The liability of knowing the truth could be a loss of havingness, unless the person has
recovered from his obsession to have solids and possessions.
If a person has a great deal of obsessiveness about solids, or if he has gone on the inversion, if
he has dropped down a few scales and he no longer can have anything, somebody comes along
and they hand him a ten-dollar bill and he’ll say, “Oh, I couldn’t have that. Couldn’t have that.”
A chap right here in the audience—a very fine fellow, to whom the London HASI owes a great
deal—I am going to tell this story on him. He was out to dinner with a couple of London
Scientologists. And he had been associating with the general public a lot and he had been
playing this gag on the general public: He had been taking out a five-pound note, putting it
down in front of them, and say, “That’s yours.”
So the general public, people out of it, would immediately say, “Oh. Mine? What for? You
know. It’s not mine. I mean, what are you giving me that for? I . . .”
So, he had these two Scientologists out to dinner, part of the London HASI, and he took two
five-pound notes and he laid one down in front of each one and he says, “Those are yours.”
And they picked them up and put them in their pockets.
You see, these people had gotten over the idea that they couldn’t have money.
Well now, just above that you get over the idea that you have to have money. But money is a
game, and it’s barter and it makes carrying eggs around in your pockets unnecessary. And as a
result, the whole society apparently moves and exchanges, and goods and havingnesses change
position and place and so on. There’s some sort of reward, it’s a method of approval, and all
that sort of thing. So people tend to hang on to this.
But they can get up to a point where they don’t have to have it and still use it. There are a lot of
Scientologists in that position, who used to be in the position of—give them a dime: “Oh-ho-ho
you. What are you giving me that for? I mean, I couldn’t have that!” That’s for true.
I am telling tales out of school, but they were running one of the people on staff on money one
day, and they had him waste money and waste money and waste money and do other things in
order to improve his havingness and his ability to possess money. And they got him up to
where he could have a nickel.
It was very funny how a state of mind influences possessions such as money. Very, very, very
remarkable. They’re tremendous, I mean, an individual who can’t have money seems in some
fashion to reach over an invisible hand and unmock and sweep away any source of money. He
just gets rid of it. He just won’t let the money come anywhere near him.
Nobody ever walks up out of a quiz show and says, “Well, here’s the sixty-four thousand
dollars for missing the question.” They’re going to start running a quiz show on that basis after
a while, you see? Going to have to do that because havingness on money is getting so poor
they now have an inflation. People won’t take the stuff, and it keeps piling up in the streets.
No kidding. A society could get into that condition. Make sure that your havingness on money
at that time isn’t so obsessive that you keep putting it in wheelbarrows and carrying it around
with you when it won’t buy anything. Many people do that. Every once in a while they . . .
It’s always an old building, and it’s always on Park Avenue in New York, and it’s always a
brother and a sister, and they starve to death in this old building, and then the police come in to
remove the cadavers (the corpse delicious) and they dig into the mop boards or something of
the sort, and they find out that they had $150,000 in cool coin. And yet they couldn’t buy
anything with it. Well, that’s in a very obsessive condition.
These various conditions just vary from one to the other rather easily. Well, this is simply a
subject of havingness—of havingness. And people put ownership vias in order to increase the
perpetuity, the survival value and continuity of money. And if you put enough vias into the line
so that nobody can tell who made the stuff, why, the money tends to perpetuate. And if there’s
no vias in the line, why, it doesn’t.
Truth of the matter is with money, is somebody runs something through a printing press and
gives it to somebody, tells him he can spend it. I mean, that’s all there is to money. Rather
simple.
Congress, under the Constitution, was the only organization that had the power to coin money.
Fellow by the name of Alexander Hamilton, who served his country up to the time he no longer
was part of the artillery in the Revolutionary War, he got to be an aide of Washington and then
started to work for the New York bankers. I think that was an interesting switch. He
introduced a system of banking here which is quite remarkable.
And the government sometimes comes off of it, as in the days of Andy Jackson and other
times, but the point is that this system of money, whereby somebody else had to be the author
of the money than the U.S. government, in spite of what the Constitution says, was simply the
introduction of a number of vias into the line so nobody could trace the ownership of money.
And the government has bought this. They think this is a wonderful idea.
For instance, you can go right down on the Hill and ask senators, who should know better,
concerning coinage and issuance of currency and so on. You say, “Well, now, how about just
printing three billion dollars and just passing it out in public works, and so forth?”
“Oh, God, you couldn’t do that,” he’d say. “That’s—that’s printing-press money.” I’d like to
know what any of it is. Printing-press money. The funny part of it is, I suppose he thinks the
money is enfranchised by some church out in the Middle-West or something, I don’t know.
It’s some righter power that has something to do with higher beings than senators.
Truth of the matter is, when he says—that’s pretty high—when he says “Yea” for a bill on the
senate floor that authorizes a further indebtedness for the United States, all he authorizes is for
somebody in New York to write in a little black book the number of figures that he has—oh,
two billion dollars or something like that—and then they send it down to Washington and
Washington issues some bonds and then the bonds go back up to New York, and then New
York sends it down to the Treasury Department, issues the two billion dollars in cash, and
that’s the way it is done. And so there’s nothing to it. It’s better than a magic show trying to
find out where the money came from.
Once in a while some nation gets foolish enough to borrow a central banking idea, whereby the
government is the bank, the government issues the money, and then they wonder why they get
inflation, why people have very little faith in the money.
All they have to do is put a few more vias in the line. They could have a central bank very
easily, providing the central bank was totally managed by the farmers in some other county,
you see? And it was managed over there. and it was their say-so that permitted the money to be
created. But they had to consult with their wives, and their wives had to consult with the
Druids in a cave. And they just keep burying it off over here somewhere, you know, and
tracing it down. All of a sudden the money becomes more and more solid, more and more real
to people.
We know that all you do to issue a dollar is simply to print it and issue it. That’s the truth of the
matter. Pushing it through several terminals, up to the point of its entrance into the public
hands, has no bearing on the situation at all. But the public thinks it does. They’ve misowned
that dollar to a tremendous degree.
For instance, there are people right here who thoroughly believe that the dollar bills possibly
are issued by the Federal Reserve. There are people here who believe that their tens and
twenties and so on are issued by the U.S. Treasury. And yet you look at your tens and
twenties, and you’ll find across the top of it there “Federal Reserve Note” issued by a private
bank. It’s quite amazing.
There are silver certificates and silver notes. The government is getting more and more
involved. They instinctively know the right answer. They know that all you have to do is put
more vias on the line and you get more reality as far as substance and solid is concerned. In
other words, the thing can’t be unmocked.
You mock something up over here and you say, “Joe mocked it up”; you did it, and then you
say Joe did it and it would then continue. Why does it continue? Because to unmock it, it is
necessary to conceive of its creation—and part of-its creation is who created it. Part of every
creation is who created it.
And you have to get that idea of who created it at the time that you look at it, and it will simply
go aft! It’s quite interesting.
That’s why shame, blame and regret are so interesting. Somebody is so ashamed of what he
did, and you check up with him and you find out that he, usually, is upset about things
somebody else did. Now, you have a whole philosophy in existence in this modern age which
is quite interesting: that is, if you take all the blame on yourself, if you did it all yourself, if you
alone were totally responsible for everything that is wrong everyplace, and if you just own up
and admit this, you’ll feel a great relief.
Well, the funny part of it is, is you might have done a lot of it, but somebody else did too.
Always remember that when you’re going over your shames, blames and regrets. Otherwise,
the bank will collapse on you. It’ll get totally solid.
Why? Well, you aren’t- guilty of everything that ever happened in this universe. You
personally are not-guilty. You’re guilty for some of it; guilty of some of it—but not all of it.
And this philosophy, then, whereby you take the blame for everything, is simply an effort to
do what? It’s simply an effort to have more solids, to make the things which you have
unmockable. In other words (un-unmockable, I should say), fix them up so that nobody can
trace where they came from, so there’s no getting rid of them. They’re there.
And the idea of trying to put an object there by masking who crested it, where it came from and
so forth, is quite prevalent. But it only gets us into trouble when we run into shame, blame,
regret, and we say “Well, I’m responsible for—I’m guilty,” by which we mean “I’m guilty.
I’m to blame. That’s the way life is. Well, look at all the horrible things I did,” when, as a
matter of fact, nearly every crime of the body required somebody else. See that? There’s
usually two present. Maybe there was just you and your body. There’s still two present.
It’s very funny, you know: bodies have machinery laid into them from other times. It’s quite
interesting. You’ll find some preclear wallowing around one time or another: “Well, look what
I have done to this body. Look at the horrible machinery and things I have set up.” Then he
wonders why it runs much faster and gets much more solid. Well, some thetan that had the
thing on the genetic line way back when has already installed a tremendous number of items.
You didn’t install everything that’s wrong with your body.
Now, you can trace the moment when you decided to use it. You can trace the moment when
you decided to reactivate some of this machinery. You can trace the moment when you wanted
to have something wrong. But if you yourself try to trace the moment when you made up all
the machinery and the gimmicks and whatnots in the body that would or are going wrong, boy,
you’re looking down a blind alley, because you didn’t make them all. But the idea that you did
will make those that are there solid.
Now, why do you it’s just this subject of havingness. Havingness is a sort of an A-number-1
game. It’s one of these gorgeous games. Here is a thetan who is—that thing that was looking at
the cat yesterday. And here he is, and there’s a cat and there he is. Well, actually, by his own
laws of communication, nobody else’s, nothing cannot duplicate a something. You have to be
willing to some degree to be a thing before you can see a thing. A thetan can be what he can
see; he can see what he can be.
Don’t take great pride in being able to notice tramps. And don’t think it is your social
consciousness that won’t let you look at beautiful girls. Sometimes your wife has nothing to do
with it at all.
Here’s the situation: You often see some girl, some woman sneers at some gorgeous gown
that’s in some shop window, you know, and says, “Oh! That horrible rag! Tzh! It’s horrible.
It’s horrid.” There’s no duplication there.
She is probably to some degree defending herself against the possibility that she will never be
able to have a gown like that, you see? She has various ramifications concerning this.
Well, once in a while, once in a while she looks at somebody and once in a blue moon she
says, “My, I’m—I wouldn’t mind being that person.” And as a matter of fact, the person
becomes brighter and more visible. So you have these two factors that associate themselves
with solids.
Being able to see something requires that you at least have some willingness to duplicate it or
be something like it. And then you get you here —nothing—looking at this mass over here.
And you say, “I’m not unwilling to be that mass.” Well, you’re all set, see? You can see it
clearly.
But every once in a while the mass comes up and hits some other mass that you’re fond of, and
you say, “I don’t like all that mass. That mass is treacherous.”
And you can get so bad that you could walk down the street and see this mass over here that
you now consider treacherous, without seeing it at all. In other words, you could stare straight
at it and not even notice it was present. Quite interesting, isn’t it?
Objects very often disappear out of an auditing room. An individual is looking around the
auditing room and he says, “I could have this in the room and I could have that in the room and
I could have something else in the room,” and the auditor wonders why he never has noticed a
shotgun on the wall or has never noticed a waste basket or has never noticed a desk ornament
or has never noticed his own body—and sometimes never notices the auditor.
Well, you can be absolutely sure that these are masses which the person cannot be.
Now let’s put these two things together. Let’s do a little mental gymnastics here and get the
idea of misowning solids. We get the idea that somebody else created what we created. You get
the idea of that, see?
Now, that makes it solid. Then we say, “I am now unwilling to perceive that. I don’t want to
perceive that because it’s treacherous.” We say that more in a roundabout fashion: We say,
“I’m unwilling to be that thing. I’m unwilling to have that thing continue to live. I’m unwilling
to have that thing’s existence in my vicinity.” And we get these two things combined.
The first time one said, “There it is and I want it solid.” Then he found out it was dangerous
and he didn’t like it. So he walks over this way and he says, “I don’t want that.”
He never bothers to undo the mental gymnastics by which he made it solid. We get an engram
bank.
The persistence of a bank is quite interesting—the persistence of masses, of one kind or
another. He first said, “Oh, these beautiful pictures. These gorgeous pictures of the world,
these gorgeous pictures of—oh, battles and gorgeous pictures of crashes and lovely, lovely
pictures of people being murdered.” Those too those too are beautiful, as well as the beautiful
pictures of the temples and all that sort of thing. “Well, all these pictures are just gorgeous.
Now, I’ll get the idea . . .” and you put a machine over here that mocks up the pictures over
here, that shows them to him here, so that he can say, “I wonder where they came from?” See?
And “This body is making pictures ‘ or something of the sort. It’s a very, very unusual thing.
And then he gains experience. Experience is a synonym for “knowing better.” Another
synonym for experience, which is much more germane, is “not wanting to be” or “not wanting
to perceive again.”
Well, look. He’s got a mechanism that says this must be solid. And now he has some
experience, and he says that sort of thing is bad and mustn’t be solid. Now he’s in trouble. Just
as simply as this, he’s in trouble. Why? He gets a mental image picture . . . gets a mental image
picture of his fifth or sixth wife standing there looking pathetic. He can’t get rid of it! He says,
“Pftth.”
And you see men walking down the street, particularly in New York, talking to the air, you
know? “Yap, yap, yap, yap, gob-gob-ra-ra-arr-arr-arrarr-arr, gob-gob, yap-yap, arr-arr-arr.”
I had a fellow one time come into a white-arm restaurant there in New York. I was up there—
the automats—up there on the second floor. This fellow raced up the stairs and he went and put
two chairs up against a table, reserving two places, and went over and got his sandwiches, or
whatever that was, and brought them back on a tray and set his food down, and opened out
both chairs and says, “You sit there.” And he sat down, and then got raving mad at this empty
chair—argued and pounded on the table and growled and snarled, and . . . There were a few
people around looked up; they minded the noise. Truth of the matter was, however, very
simple: They were used to that sort of thing.
Well, this fellow was carrying a spook of some sort or another. That’s a technical word, a
spook. Every once in a while you find a spook. Somebody right down there, second row,
looked at me one day and he says, “What do you know?” He says, “We were running this
thing, and there, right—standing there all the time, he had been there all the time, was my
cousin.” He’d been walking around with his cousin.
Well, there’s hardly anybody doesn’t have a spook of one kind or another, and there’s certainly
nobody who doesn’t have some sort of a persistent picture that he’d better not look at because
he can’t be that thing, which . . . so therefore must be invisible to him—you get the idea?—
which is totally solid. And this is about all that gets wrong with the mind.
When you say a specific experience is bad, let me assure you that any experience, according to
a thetan, is better than no experience. There isn’t probably any such thing as an immoral
experience, except by another consideration that something was immoral. You have to make
another consideration, you see?
It isn’t such a thing that there’s no such thing as immorality. Oh, yes, there is such a thing as
immorality: People have considered certain things immoral, and they decided that that was the
way to go about it, and these things must be prohibited, and everybody gets solid pictures of
them—they become them.
Well, we get to this second stage, now. There is one thing a thetan can do with something he
doesn’t want to look at. He can wear it. That’s one solution, isn’t it? Huh? Now, here is
something funny: If you took a horrible-looking dress and you put it up in the living room so
that every time you entered the living room, or entered or left the house, you saw this dress
there. And you’d say, “Boy, I got to ragbag that thing quick.” But you wouldn’t let yourself do
so, see? It’s just there. There’s that dress. Every time you found yourself putting it away, put it
back there again. The next thing you know, you say, “Well, it’s not a bad dress,” you put it
on. At least you don’t have to look at it when you’re wearing it!
I have seen people do this with clothes. But they certainly do this—it accounts for some of the
fashions that come out of Princeton. I’ve seen people do this with physical objects. But they do
as they do with physical objects, with mental objects. In other words, anything a person will
do with a physical object he will also do with a mental object and vice versa, because they’re
just objects. They are not a special kind of objects, they’re simply an object.
The only reason other people don’t see your facsimiles is they are not that heavy; they don’t
stop light that well. They stop light for you because you’re the one that sheds the light on them.
Every once in a while you run into an auditor who can see other people’s facsimiles. Every
once in a while he really can see other people’s facsimiles. He’s not seeing something he
mocked up himself.
It’s very easy to get in somebody’s head and take a look at the mental image pictures that are
stuck. Rather simple. You, or an auditor, can quite often see things, or sense things, or
perceive things, or get a feeling about things that the person himself will not sense, feel,
experience or see. Why?
Because he’s gone through this goofball thing I just showed you: He gets a machine over here
which mocks up something over there which takes some pictures over here, and he gets
something solid. See? Then he’s over here and he says, “Boy, I don’t want to be that. That’s
bad. That’s bad.” And he says, “Get out of here! Move. Unmock. Vanish.”
Now he says, “Okay. At least I don’t have to look at it.”
Well, in view of the fact he’s not looking at it, we get this oddity that an auditor can do more
for a preclear than the preclear can for himself, providing they don’t both have the same
aberrations.
You see how this works? Well, we get these stuck manifestations in the mind.
All right. We say, “Well, that’s what’s wrong with it. Now let’s do something about it.” See,
that’s very easy now: “Oh, let’s do something about it,” and so on.
Dianetics. The only thing that is not in Book One Dianetics is havingness. There’s some tiny
reference to it, but it’s just not there. And it’s a terribly important subject: a thetan’s desire to
possess mass. Any mass is better than no mass. He just wants mass. He wants havingness. He
wants possession. It’s quite amazing.
Now, what happens here? Auditor comes along and with force and duress wears this thing out,
this fellow had here, see? You’d think the thetan would have felt better, but he doesn’t feel so
good. Because the other factor has come along: His havingness has been reduced.
In spite of the fact that it was bad—he didn’t want to see it, he couldn’t observe it, he couldn’t
experience it, he really couldn’t own it one way or the other—its absence, nevertheless,
profoundly affects him.
This is quite weird. Police, social workers, and so on, are always struck by this phenomenon.
I think it’s Oliver Twist, isn’t it, where Bill Sikes had the dog that he kicked all over the place,
and so on? And I’m sure that the dog was very upset when Bill Sikes went to Tyburn or
wherever he went. You know? Thing kicked him all the time, but he still had something there.
So somebody is always trying to solve this problem of separating a husband and a wife
because they’re both so unhappy together, and then they go spang! There they are back
together again, see? You say, “Well, he beats her, and she nags him. And between the two of
them, they’re going to ruin their lives.” So you say, “Well, obviously the proper solution is
that-a-way.” So, we get it all fixed and they go that-a-way, and they’re either very unhappy or
they come this-a-way all over again. See that?
That’s merely havingness. The total explanation of it. The lack of mass, loss of mass, and 80
on, is quite fundamental. In order to take a wife away from a husband, you would have to at
least give him a clothes dummy in return. And what do you know? He’s liable to be satisfied
with one, too.
That is one of the riddles. But it isn’t really a riddle. It’s simply a consideration that havingness
is valuable and one should have havingness, and so on.
Actually, as one runs processes aimed at remedying havingness, a person gets over the idea
that he has to have everything in sight without criteria. He gets over such ideas as greed, and he
also gets over such ideas as “can’t have.” He gets over the idea that he can’t have anything, and
he gets over the idea that he’s got to have everything.
Quite interesting. He can get out of this. Unless he gets out of this havingness bracket—it’s not
bad, you understand, it’s just something he has to get over if he’s ever going to shift his
attention very much. And so he gets out of this havingness bracket, he can do all sorts of
things. He can exteriorize, he can tolerate space, he can do various things that he couldn’t do
before.
The anatomy of a trap, of course, is an inability to have it but have to have it. A trap is better
than no trap if a person has to have mass. This is the great weirdity: You wonder why criminals
who have been in jail always go out and commit more crimes and go back to jail again. The
police prefer to be very baffled about this.
Well, there is nothing baffling about it at all. They moved in the havingness that close, they got
him used to that much—you know, small mass, small confines, rather small space as a cell,
and so on. They move the guy out of it and to some degree he feels unhappy about it, he steals
something. He’s trying to remedy his havingness already on a criminal basis. He can’t really
have something so he has to steal everything. And he’ll do this sometimes just to get back in
jail.
And he goes out and he leaves clues around so that Dick Crazy and the FBI and other people
can go out and arrest him, bring him back and give him that much havingness again.
In other words, it’s hard to keep thetans out of traps, unless they have some fairly sane notion
of possession; and their notions of possession, havingness, what they can perceive, what they
should have solid—unless these things are fairly straight, well, the fellow is leading a very
confusing existence. He doesn’t quite know what the existence is all about. He hasn’t a clue.
Well, we look at the problems of mass, the problems of ownership, the problems of
perception, and we find these things are very intimately connected.
And the entrance point is quite interesting. The entrance point of havingness—and this
apparently is way over the hills and far away from what I’ve just been saying—is control.
Now, let’s get down to the basic factor of what makes things bad. Things are bad which exert
an influence a person doesn’t want. Got that? That’s a bad thing. A bad thing exerts an
influence a person doesn’t want.
Therefore, it is attempting, you might say, a control of the person. And when a person has this
happen to him too much, when too many things attempt to influence him without his consent,
then he gets into a state where he blurs out. He says, “Nothing must influence me.”
Well, because control is a two-way proposition, right hand in glove with it is “I mustn’t
influence anything.” We also get this phenomena where he says “This object here mustn’t
influence anything,” and then he moves over here and becomes the object—he also inherits the
idea that it mustn’t influence anything. Control. Control. It’s fortunate that that is the entrance
point. Earlier we had communication as an entrance point. Now, communication doesn’t go as
far south as control, because communication has to be as significant as control to have any
reality on an unconscious person. In other words, to communicate with an unconscious person
it is necessary to add the additional significance of control, and also a communication line and
also some mass.
Communication all by itself is too simple. Somebody is lying there unconscious, we walk in,
we say, “How are you, Daisy?”
She wakes up and she says, “Oh, I’m not bad.”
See, if communication worked, we could walk through a hospital ward very easily and simply
open the doors and say—”How are you people?” wouldn’t work, by the way. Communication
is a fairly individual thing. We’d have to say “How are you?” and “How are you?” and “How
are you?” and “How are you?” and “How are you?” and “How are you?” And theoretically
they’d all wake up and get well, and that would be that.
But you have to add the additional significance of control before they pay any attention to the
communication. We have processes now which do this. Control, a solid communication line,
communication, all added up together, will reach, evidently, almost any level of
unconsciousness.
Now, what advantage is there? Why should an auditor be worried about unconscious people?
Scientologists wake up rather easily. They’re generally awake before they have anything to do
with Scientology. It’s quite remarkable that very few of them have any reality at all on the
general state of Homo sap. It’s quite remarkable.
Most of them have always considered themselves a bit of an oddball. That is almost a common
denominator of a Scientologist. Up to the time he came into Scientology he considered himself
was just slightly an oddball. He was not quite—he’d look at things, and he would see that they
weren’t quite right. And the other fellows around would take a look at them and they’d say,
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
The person who was going to become a Scientologist someday would say to himself, “Well,
there must be something wrong with me.”
Well, there was something wrong with him. He was awake.
Any person who has served a rather adventurous career has sooner or later, in times of stress,
had an occurrence happen to him where, sound asleep, he has acted and behaved as though he
was wide awake, and then has suddenly awakened finding himself in action. You know?
Almost anybody that’s been around has had some sort of an experience like this. You know?
It could be as innocent as you were up all night at a party, and you have to get up and get
everybody’s breakfast in the morning, and so you know that. You go to sleep, and you know
that. Next thing you know, you’re standing over a stove making coffee! And you say, “Hey!
How did I get here? I don’t remember getting out of bed!” And yet, obviously, for some little
time you were performing actions. Got that? For some little time.
You must have gotten up, gotten dressed, lighted the fire, put the coffee in the pot, to wake up
all of a sudden with yourself standing over a stove with the coffee in the pot. You’ve had that
happen. Something like that.
Don’t have it happen to you when you’re driving a car.
Oh, on an expedition one time, been about three days in a storm (four days), and I remember
distinctly going below—I was back on deck again! I’d evidently been acting all right, because I
woke up in midsentence of somebody else. Somebody else was talking to me and I woke up in
the midsentence.
“What the hell am I doing here? I went below a couple of hours ago. I distinctly remember it!”
Well, if you have any subjective reality at all upon such an experience, let me invite you to
apply that experience to a great proportion of your fellow man. He hasn’t awakened. He is
walking around, going through all the proper mechanical actions: He’s going through life, he
goes to school, he studies his textbooks, he gets up, he goes to work, he thuh-thuh-thuh.
And you’ll see this every once in a while when you’re auditing somebody. He all of a sudden
will say, “Clonk! What am I doing here? Who am I?” You woke him up.
What did it take to wake him up? Well, processing, processes. Therefore, for you to be able to
process, individually or collectively, mankind as a whole, then you had to have the clue and the
key as to how you processed an unconscious person, because that’s mostly what you’ve got.
You wonder, “Why do people tolerate this sort of thing?” They’re not tolerating it. They’re just
there, you know?
And back in the old days when you thought of yourself as an oddball, and so forth, just
reapply this thing: You were standing there, and you were the only one present who was
awake. And then you thought something was wrong with you? Yes, there was something
wrong with you. You were awake.
Now, havingness—havingness has a great deal to do with this. When a person loses too much
too suddenly, he thinks he can’t see at all, thinks he can’t experience, and assumes, himself,
this state that we call unconsciousness. And that is the one thing that is personally assumed.
Actually, there is no such thing as a bank full of unconsciousness. When the stress gets too
great, the individual says, “I can’t have that thing which I misowned into solid. I am about to
see it, and my only defense is to see nothing.” So he goes clonk!—unconscious.
A thetan turns this on himself. I’m sure that there are girls around that you could present them
with a gold-plated Rolls Royce or something, and they’d just go Long!—just go out cold.
Possible. It’s just too much havingness too fast.
Well, this other manifestation is, any time an unwanted bit of havingness appears, any time
something appears in the bank that they really shouldn’t look at, they themselves shut down
their attention. And that we call analytical attenuation, or anaten, or just plain dope-off or boil-
off, or other technical terms.
Now, here, here is this phenomenon. We have havingness versus unconsciousness. The
havingness is mocked up on vias and Disowned, and many times is no longer perceived
because the person is unconscious toward that object. He hasn’t really got an automatic
mechanism which makes him unconscious. He just all of a sudden begins to know that’s bad to
look that way and he just fluuuuh.
Only reason people go to sleep in the dark is because the dark is dangerous. Then they get on
an inversion to it. They get on an inversion to it, and they say, “It’s so dangerous I better keep
prowling around in it.” And they sleep all day.
They get various odd ideas, strange ideas concerning how alert and awake they ought to be, but
the remedy for anything you don’t want—and remember that it’s better to have something than
nothing—the remedy for that is to go unconscious.
And this mechanism is pretty well under the control of a thetan. And it’s demonstrated by the
fact that in an auditing session when somebody goes unconscious, the best thing to do is to
wake them up—just like it said in Book One.
Actually, there’s a method of doing it. And that is, you acknowledge them until they wake up.
And an acknowledgment all by itself, if it’s good enough, will wake somebody up. It’s very
funny when you see them wake up. Sometimes they’ll wake up and then wish to God they
hadn’t, and then go to sleep, and they’re just . . . Very amusing.
A thetan wants and has to have, and really basically is unhappy unless he does have, and uses
against this the defense of unconsciousness if he finds himself having at any time. Confusing,
isn’t it?
An individual creates something and makes it perpetuate beyond his control, because he says,
“I must have this, and I want it to go on forever.” Then he says, “This thing is bad, and I
mustn’t perceive this, and I can’t possibly be it,” and so on. Therefore, he just shuts his mind,
he shuts his eye to it. He said, “This is no longer there,” while it’s standing in front of him.
Until he can tolerate havingness for its own sake, you can’t expect anybody to wake up. So, in
reality, the clue to consciousness, the clue to unconsciousness and the ways to resolve it, is
totally in the field of havingness. And havingness gets bridged over to the person with the
significance’s of control and communication.
And if you can get control and communication between the person and havingnesses, you got it
made. Person wakes up. He finds there was something to look at, he finds he could look at it,
and discovers, therefore, that it’s possible for him to be awake though alive.
This is evidently the basic mechanism of havingness, the basic contest in which we find a
thetan involved. And the co-relation between havingness and consciousness is simply that a
person becomes unconscious if he believes he cannot have. And so we reverse the thing around
the other way, and we showed him that he can have and he therefore becomes willing to be
conscious.
We do not resolve unconsciousness or the somnolent state in which the human race finds itself
by simply running unconsciousness, because this mechanism is really never otherwise than
under his control.
So we have found the entrance point to a case, and that is havingness, and we have found how
to get it across to the person, and that is by control and communication—thus CCH. And this is
the basic mechanism and theory of CCH.
Thank you.

[[Category:Lectures FC]]