Grow New Teeth

THE FRUITS OF Hubbard's Wichita research, which we have just been describing, were received with enthusiasm by his supporters, despite their mind-boggling contents, but things were not going as well as they might for Dianetics. All over the country relapses were beginning to occur, the original wild claims were not being met, and the peak of growth of the cult seemed to have been reached. Furthermore - and this to Hubbard was, as it always has been, anathema - some of his more level-headed adherents were beginning to dispute his judgement on points of technique as well as theory. Worst of all, from all sides rose a swelling chorus demanding to see a real honest-to-goodness Clear. If Clears were so easy to produce, well then let someone produce one!

From every point of view L. Ron was in a ticklish spot. He was in the very dangerous position of being expected to continually astound people, and there is no harder role to play. Moreover, he had been badly burnt once in the past when, not too long after the publication of Dianetics, he had exhibited in public someone supposed lo be Clear. It had been a grave tactical error and Hubbard seems to have become justly cautious of committing himself as far as Clears were concerned. The circumstances were as follows:

In 1950 Dianetics was being taken up with great enthusiasm in San Francisco and Los Angeles, and it had become a fad among the well-to-do movie stars of the time. Gloria Swanson was one of the stars who received lengthy processing and the great jazz pianist, Dave Brubeck, made the claim that it had helped him in his musical career. A relation of Cecil B. de Mille even used his influence to get the phrase `Dianetic processing' inserted into the scripts of a number of `B' movies in place of the word `psychoanalysis', and as a result uncomprehending movie audiences from Harwich to Hong Kong heard a well-known actress announce in one film that she was late for a `Dianetic session'.

The well-known film director, Cy Endfield - Zulu, Hide and Seek and, more recently, de Sade are some of his best known films - was at that time working in California. Like many others in the movie business he had been intrigued by the impact Dianetics was making in Hollywood, and was sufficiently curious to attend one or two meetings in Los Angeles where the well-known science fiction Cwriter, A. E. Van Vogt, lectured warmly on the topic. Endfield found it all a bit unconvincing, but when it was announced that shortly the founder himself would be lecturing and presenting the world's first Clear to a public meeting he decided that this was too good an opportunity to miss.

The venue was the famous Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, a huge hall capable of accommodating six thousand. This was packed to capacity, for good - or at least interesting - news travels fast. Endfield recalls that a stir of excitement ran through the audience when Hubbard, after speaking at some length on various matters, called out on to the stage a pretty college student called Sonia Bianca, whom he introduced to the audience as the world's first Clear. Miss Bianca, who seemed somewhat overcome by it all, answered a few routine questions from Hubbard without revealing any spectacular powers, and it is possible that Hubbard thought that no more formal demonstration than this was necessary. But it was not to be, for Mr Endfield, remembering that Clears were currently supposed to have perfect recall of all sense perceptions and knowing Miss Bianca was a major in physics, decided to ask her some simple questions in her own topic. Amazingly she seemed unable to remember even rudimentary formulae, such as Boyle's Law, and fell down completely when asked to give the colour of Hubbard's tie when his back was turned. It was an awful moment. There was improper laughter and sections of the audience got up and left.

With this flop in mind it is no wonder that Hubbard showed no great enthusiasm when, in 1952, news came from an unexpected quarter that another Clear had been created. The story of this Clear, and the ones that followed, is revealing.

In 1951, it will be recalled, the mathematician Chapdelaine had been acting as an auditor for Hubbard during the so-called research period which gave the world the first news of the `Clam' and the `Weeper'. For various reasons Chapdelaine felt that Dianetics could achieve remarkable effects, and he was eager to do whatever he could to assist its progress, however unusual the tasks he might be called upon to do. And some of the tasks were very odd indeed. On one occasion Hubbard handed him a bundle of papers with some assorted rough notes on them, asking him to convert the data they contained into mathematical form. Chapdelaine strongly suspected that these notes were the famous `original thesis' of Dianetics, and he burnt much midnight oil trying to get some way into what seemed an impossible task. He succeeded in part, and produced a set of semi-formalized statements which he handed to Hubbard telling him it was impossible to do any better with the material provided. It now seems likely that these efforts were later further adapted, probably by Hubbard himself, into what are now known as the Logics, Pre-Logics and Axioms, a set of numbered statements faintly reminiscent of Wittgenstein's Tractatus. From these appear to be derived the `Factors' - 30 numbered statements like `And there are Universes' or `The action of dimension point is reaching and withdrawing'. These have been set to music by Scientologist Bobby Richards and are sung rather like psalms at Scientology church meetings. Mr Richards presently holds the post of `Master of the Commodore's Music'.

Another task given to the willing, but disconcerted mathematician, was to help Hubbard launch the ill-fated `Allied Scientists of the World' organization. This, one of Ron's lesser-known enterprises, began with a direct-mail shot - six secretaries worked for weeks merely typing envelopes - to most the working scientists in America and some other parts of the globe. They were invited, for a small fee, to enrol in a new organization which was to act as a clearing house for scientific literature, and was planning, among other schemes, to build an H-bomb-proof underground library. Chapdelaine was suddenly woken one night and dispatched peremptorily by Hubbard to Denver, Colorado to open the head office of the organization and to handle what was presumably expected to be a vast and enthusiastic rush to join. After a week or so, during which time only four out of the many thousands of scientists circulated showed any interest to the extent of sending in dollars, the `Allied Scientists of the World' was rapidly wound up and Chapdelaine returned, penniless, to Wichita. Here he found the atmosphere distinctly unhappy, with Hubbard showing signs of quarrelling with his millionaire backer, and in a moment of decision he withdrew from the headquarters organization to practise Dianetics privately.

It was at this point he began auditing an individual named Ron Howes, and achieved such apparent success with him that in early 1952 he became convinced that he had in his hands a potential Clear. Howes was a physical chemist from Minneapolis who had recently undergone an operation for the removal of a kidney stone. His rapid return to health, accompanied by much auditing, and his abnormal visual memory led Chapdelaine to the view that the great breakthrough was imminent, and on 20th January 1952 Ron Howes was declared Clear.

If Chapdelaine was confident of this achievement, Howes was even more so. In an extraordinary interview which he gave a few days later, and which was published by the Psychological Research Foundation (a Scientology offshoot in Phoenix, Arizona), he reveals touches of megalomania and intellectual hyper-confidence which are characteristic of the manic state achieved with a religious conversion. The content of the dialogue turns out to be, unfortunately, middle-grade science fiction, spiced with some muddled philosophy. I am quoting now some extended passages below so that the reader may judge the flavour for himself.

Q: What do you intend to do with your new powers?

Howes: They are not new. All I have done is to recover the full use of my control centres. I am reintegrating all my purposes, goals, postulates, effects, causes, until I have rid myself of all my agreements to be modified cause.

Q: What is possible?

Howes: For me at the moment, anything and everything is possible. The only arbitrary is time. Now if I become other than what I am in the optimum state I may remove the arbitrary. Then everything, in an instant, is possible.

After a rather dull patch in which Howes delivers a homily on creativity, and a point where he hints at telepathic powers he is asked a series of questions about his supposed super- normal abilities. The answers, which at the time were counted as being historic, are worth quoting verbatim to give some idea of what people were hoping for, for themselves and for others, from the achievement of the state of Clear:

Q: What is your reading speed compared to what it was?

Howes: It's mighty fast and improving steadily every day. I noticed, and my wife remarked upon it, that I seemed to be turning the pages about three times as fast. My comprehension of printed material has gone up enormously compared to the past. The more difficult paragraphs in technical reading are very easy now. No confusion, no identity, no failure. My ability to pick up errors in judgement of other people on paper is much higher.

Q: Can you be affected by bacteria?

Howes: I still believe that there are bacteria which I can't resist, but there must be many bacteria that I can resist now that I could never resist before.

Q: What do you contemplate as your duration of life?

Howes: In chronological years, if my anti-gravity plan works, I would assume approximately another four hundred years. Under present circumstances, one hundred and a quarter.

Q: What experiments have you performed on yourself? One of them concerns such a simple little thing as sunburn. I had been sunburned approximately a full year, continuously, in my life. In the past had I taken even as much as fifty milligrams of niacin, I'd have burnt like a furnace for days. Now, after running out of sunburn, I can take niacin to my heart's content. No more sunburn. The other night I loaded myself with 400 milligrams of niacin - no blush, no heat, no pallor, no sunburn.

Another experiment concerns changing the total pH of the body. One very definitely affects ability by changing the balance between acidity and alkalinity. I'm attempting to find out just how alkaline I can get and still be maximum cause.

I've also tried to see if I can regenerate teeth. For the moment I've got some very sore gums but no teeth. Perry suggested to me, in a roundabout way, that I should regenerate teeth. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday I got extremely sore gums. Teeth were pulled out. I've regenerated tissue. To the maximum extent I can. The soreness is now disappearing. The gums are much more healthy. Next point is what constitutes a seed tooth? I think it's possible to construct them again. Incidentally, I haven't decided what I am going to look like yet.

Q: Have you made any experiment with sleep?

Howes: Yes. I went forty-eight hours without it. There was no diminution of my enthusiasm and my control, but there was a definite lag physically. The body requires rest. Rest permits muscles, blood, nerves to undergo certain readjustments. Without this rest one might continue for possibly two weeks without sleep.

Apart from the occasional word or phrase drawn from the jargon of Scientology, which may be unfamiliar to the general reader, there should be no difficulty in understanding the gist of this interview, nor its implications. It is quite evident that here were a number of intelligent human beings who, for a brief period of time, believed that one of their number had been created a superman - the first of a new species of man who would gradually replace the old as surely as homo sapiens replaced the Australopithecines and Neanderthal Man. In other contemporary literature the being which the techniques of Dianetics and Scientology were creating was even assigned a special name - homo novus, the New Man.

The creating of a superior race to replace our own seemed at the time to be an inevitable consequence of the arrival of Dianetics, and when the news of the `clearing' of Ron Howes spread, a surge of new confidence ran through the movement. Only Hubbard, significantly, seemed sceptical, though he apparently became more interested when reports were circulated that Howes was developing unusual telepathic powers. The first specimen of homo novus certainly went through a period of hyperconfidence in his own powers and even began issuing a series of pretentious `Bulletins' and `Messages' to other Scientologists which must have considerably niggled Hubbard, who liked to reserve such ex cathedra statements for himself.

The first such Bulletin begins pompously: `The following is addressed to all optimum and pre-optimum humans...', and then goes on to advise on the steps needed to develop the optimum race, using phrases such as `tone-scale' (a Dianetics concept which allows one to assess the level of `beingness', or super-power of the Thetan), `life-cause', `race intelligence' and other such mystic notions.

The reference to growing new teeth must have intrigued many readers. This, together with radical improvements in eyesight, increased muscle tone, etc., were counted at the time as being merely some of the inevitable concomitants of being a Clear, and would certainly seem to merit investigation. Howes, as we noted, felt that his new powers were beginning to make his gums itch - presumably a step in the right direction - but he seems not to have got much further than this. But before long a minor spate of new Clears arrived - none from Hubbard's stable, but rather from the hands of individual auditors in various parts of the country. These Clears, and their auditors, must have presented a ticklish dilemma to L. Ron, who could neither deny their genuineness, because they were merely following his gospel and producing the predicted miracles, nor publicly sponsor them in case - as he must certainly have expected - they were merely flashes in the pan. Instead he preserved a steely silence, the best strategy of all. But steadily the list grew.

On the `third day of the third month, 1952', Jack Horner was reporting from Van Nuys, California, that he had been auditing a fifteen-year-old girl who had reached the state of Clear with dramatic ease. She had begun to exploit her new powers by `clearing up all the minor scars on the body'. She also learnt typing from scratch, achieving twenty-five words a minute after merely studying the keyboard chart for fifteen minutes.

`Because some of her teeth were bad', Horner reports in a letter, which contains not the slightest sign of corroborative evidence to back up these claims, `she had decided to make them fall out and grow new ones in their place. She decided that a mole on her cheek would look good so she grew one, then decided it didn't look so good after all and made it disappear....'

Another magnificent specimen of homo novus was the former motor mechanic, H. R. `Wing' Angell of Denver, Colorado, who made a name for himself in the fifties, thanks to a lecture tour in which he amazed audiences with accounts of the wonders he had performed - or could if he could only be bothered to. At one session, when asked directly what changes himself he had actually experienced, the following dialogue rook place:

Angell: Well, when old man Hubbard wrote a book, I got it the first week in June 1950. As I sat down to read that book with my thick glasses, my trembling hands, my paroxysmal tachycardia kicking against my ribs, my indigestion and my general attitude that the world owed me a living and was damn sure not doing anything about it...I was a mess. Now I know my body from one end to the other and it's a friend of mine, a part of me. I know the Universe around me better than I ever have before, and I enjoy everything in it. What more could you want?

Q: And the tachycardia and the various things like that?

Angell: They went away - I didn't need them any more!

It was as simple as that. Later, when asked about growing teeth, he replied:

Yeah, I'd like to talk about teeth in a broad general basis. I discovered that a person can grow new teeth if he wants 'em, and I've done so. But that's parlour tricks. They aren't even teeth that would have been valuable to me one way or the other. It was just an experiment and it worked.

For years Wing Angell was known primarily for his claim to have grown new teeth, and he certainly made the most of it. It is possible that he was even behind an anonymous company which launched advertisements in anumber of the occult and psychic fringe periodicals in 1956 stating in bold letters: