Miss
Active member
I've got something to say about INV, it may come as a surprise.
See, an EO somewhere out in the sticks still has other things to do than mess with other people's subconscious, fear, shame and self-deception. But at INV that's 24/7.
You spend your whole time either looking at the ethics folders, the Pc folders, the archives or you sec-check, intimidate or just flat out choke people with their own guilt and lies.
An INV interrogation is a bit like most other sec-checks, but it is also a weird form of Scientology mental aikido. It drags on often for hours upon tag-team hours. You work hard to get into the mind of the accountable unit, connect dots scattered across decades of their ethics folders, across their love lives, careers, family lives... Then you combine it with all their inconsistencies, stupid smiles, evasive answers, non-cooperation. And you always need to manage their anxiety, their fear - to stay in the goldielocks zone. Not too much, not too little. You do freeform, you ask questions that are not on any list. You tell them that their needle did things it never did. They lie, you lie back at them. Trade for trade, blow for blow, step by step.
At some point it all starts to click into place. You get to know all the demons that they've got. You collect all their lies, hopes, delusions and most of all the fear, guilt and shame. Guilt, fear and shame always weigh the most. Then you pass all that heavy stuff back to them and watch them get crushed under the weight.
The perfect INV interrogation ends with the accountable unit lovingly cooperating with anything that you do. The victim will appreciate the mauling they just went through and will genuinely be glad that you put them through it.
That's what scientology does: It is not satisfied with putting people in thralldom, it makes them cherish their chains and love their torturers, makes them savour every teeth-gnashing moment.
The dynamic between the investigator and the accountable unit... there's something out of BDSM and Stockholm syndrome there, with a good dose of trauma bonding. That's where all the bullbait tools come home to roost. Inches away from their face, you can smell the anxiety under the sweat. Except unlike with bullbait, this is no longer a game. No this is "very serious business" as Ron would say - life or death. Declares, lower conditions... oh and there's other people that can be dragged into it too! "Come on sweetie, tell me about all the others! We need more accountable units, more wood for the fire!"
I do not know a single person who doesn't sometimes get a rush from being in such a position of power and control. Some people would never make good gators, because they get addicted to that feeling. What was just-once turned into once-in-a-while, then turned into once-every-cycle-or-more. These people become ethics-process-junkies. Waiting blank-eyed for their next prey item, their next fix.
Junkies never make good gators.
So who makes a good investigator? The person that makes this a rinse-and-repeat process. Doesn't make it personal. Uses their own emotions as tools and puts them away as soon as they aren't needed. In the end everyone in scientology is a "means to an end". A tool used for a specific purpose a cog in a huge machine.
For me that's what it came to: A machine process, a machine fed with ethics folders and living people. But a machine nevertheless and we were just mechanics keeping the machine fed with the words of the living and the folders of the dead.
I recall many faces, but very few names. They all blended into one long flow of entries in an excel folder. Impersonal lack of compassion was the order of the day (sympathy is low on the tone scale!). The name didn't matter, what mattered was the "status" column. "Decommitted". "Trashed". "Closed". "Committed" (the most dreaded of them all).
I do not remember the names, nor did I try. I had my excel tracker and the mainframe and the folders in the archives. They did the remembering part for me.
I couldn't remember. I was too tired of being tired to remember.
... darn that was a dark post. I shouldn't write these stream-of-consciousness reminiscences after midnight. Gets creepy.,
what was committed and why was it dreaded?
And they don't teach that at the local orgs.
