Edited for space reasons. Read the complete article at the San Francisco ChronicleScientology link to public schoolsAs early as the third grade, students in S.F. and elsewhere are subtly introduced to church's concepts via anti-drug teachings
Nanette Asimov, Chronicle Staff Writer Wednesday, June 9, 2004
A popular anti-drug program provided free to schools in San Francisco and elsewhere teaches concepts straight out of the Church of Scientology, including medical theories that some addiction experts described as "irresponsible" and "pseudoscience."
As a result, students are being introduced to some beliefs and methods of Scientology without their knowledge. Anyone listening to a classroom talk by Narconon Drug Prevention & Education is unlikely to recognize the connection with Scientology; the lessons sound nothing like theology. Instruction is delivered in language purged of most church parlance, but includes "all the Scientology and Dianetics Handbook basics," according to Scientology correspondence obtained by The Chronicle.
Narconon's anti-drug instruction rests on these key church concepts: that the body stores all kinds of toxins indefinitely in fat, where they wreak havoc on the mind until "sweated" out. Those ideas are rejected by the five medical experts contacted by The Chronicle, who say there is no evidence to support them.
Narconon was created by L. Ron Hubbard, the late science-fiction writer who founded Scientology, a religion that claims to improve the well-being of followers through courses aimed at self-improvement and global serenity.
Narconon operates a global network of drug treatment centers, as well as education programs for elementary, middle and high school students.
Its lectures have reached 1.7 million children around the nation in the last decade, Narconon officials said, and more than 30,000 San Francisco students since 1991. Meanwhile, Narconon's anti-drug message and charismatic speakers earn rave reviews from students and teachers.
Narconon officials are adamant that Narconon is secular and that a firewall exists between it and the Church of Scientology, and San Francisco school health officials say they know of no church-state problem with Narconon or of any pseudoscience taught.
But a close look reveals a crossover of church language, materials, concepts, personnel and some finances, leading to accusations that Scientology has slipped into public classrooms.
"Narconon, to me, is Scientology," said Lee Saltz, a drug counselor with the Los Angeles school district, where Narconon has made classroom presentations for many years. "We don't use their curriculum because it's not grounded in science. But they bypass our office and go directly to the schools. They're very persistent."
Narconon speakers tell students that the body stores drugs indefinitely in fat, where they cause drug cravings and flashbacks. Students are told that sweating through exercise or sauna rids the body of these "poisons." And, some teachers said, the speakers tell students that the drug residues produce a colored ooze when exiting the body.
"It's pseudoscience, right up there with colonic irrigation," said Dr. Peter Banys, director of substance abuse programs at the VA Medical Center in San Francisco.
Dr. Igor Grant, professor of psychiatry and director of the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research at UC San Diego, agreed: "I'm not aware of any data that show that going into a sauna detoxifies you from toxins of any kind." Three other addiction experts contacted by The Chronicle echoed their skepticism.
But Narconon officials say their science is sound and their curriculum free of religion. And they say Narconon is legally and financially separate from the church. . . .
Federal law prohibits religious instruction in public schools -- but it also prevents school officials from ousting secular programs just because they are provided by religious groups.
. . .
A Chronicle review of Narconon's curriculum found that, like the Church of Scientology, Narconon embraces Hubbard's belief that experiences are recorded in three-dimensional images in the mind, with sound and smell, called "mental image pictures" or "pictures in the mind." Taking any drug "scrambles" the pictures.
. . .
Scientologists believe that scrambled pictures interfere with one's ability to "go clear," a state of mental purity that is a goal of the religion.
In his 1979 Scientology text "Clear Body, Clear Mind," Hubbard writes that high doses of the vitamin niacin and hours of sauna flush out drugs, "freeing the person up for mental and spiritual gain." He calls it "Purification," and Scientology churches often are equipped with saunas, said ex-Scientologists and a tour guide at San Francisco's church.
Hubbard writes that drugs in fat "re-stimulate" the unwanted mental pictures created when the drugs were taken.
These beliefs grew out of Hubbard's writings about the mind in the 1940s and 1950s. He first characterized Scientology as a religious philosophy in 1951, and three years later the first church opened in Los Angeles. More than 3,200 "churches, missions and groups" followed in 154 countries, Scientology's Web site says.
Hubbard created Narconon in 1966 with William Benitez, an Arizona inmate and addict turned anti-drug crusader. Treatment began as vitamins and exercise. In 1978, Hubbard added his "tissue-cleansing regimen" of niacin and sauna, which "greatly reduces or eliminates cravings for drugs that stem from hidden drug toxins," says Narconon's Web site.
Hubbard died in 1986 while Scientology was in a dispute with the Internal Revenue Service over its tax status. Shortly after, his followers legally grouped his many enterprises, including Narconon, into religious and secular divisions. (Scientology gained tax-exempt church status in 1993.)
In 1988, church members created the nonprofit Association for Better Living and Education, or ABLE, to oversee four secular programs: The Way to Happiness Foundation, promoting Hubbard's 21 "moral precepts"; Applied Scholastics, an education program; Criminon, a "life improvement" course for prison inmates; and Narconon. . . .
Narconon's lecturers and top administrators readily acknowledge that they are Scientologists.
A church spokeswoman said the link is strong but unofficial.
"Is there a connection between Scientologists and Narconon? Resoundingly yes," said Linda Simmons Hight of the Church of Scientology International. "Scientologists are thoroughly mixed with the activities and finances of Narconon. I'm not talking about the church. I'm talking about (individual) Scientologists."
For example, Scientologists pay for Narconon's school lectures and operate Narconon drug treatment centers across the country. At Narconon International in Watsonville, the treatment center nearest the Bay Area, eight of the nine members of the board of directors promote Scientology on the Web or are listed as having completed religious courses.
And of the 15 small businesses that pay for Narconon lectures in San Francisco schools, the owners or employees of at least 10 tout Scientology on the Web or have completed courses. . . .
But former Scientologists who have worked for the church and for Narconon say the connection goes far beyond shared values.
"Narconon's orders come from the Church of Scientology's senior management," said Tory Christman, a former church member who worked briefly at Narconon International. "Their programs, policies -- it's all church policy. There's no question about this to anyone involved."
A 30-year veteran of Scientology, Christman left in 2000. She said she suffered seizures after following a church recommendation to stop taking epilepsy medicine, and she decided to quit after that.
Joe Keldani, who ran Canada's Narconon from 1972 to 1978, agreed. "My orders were very exact: You are a separate organization. But every Thursday you have to make a report, and every detail goes uplines," he said. "On some issues, my reports went all the way up to Mary Sue Hubbard," wife of the founder.
Keldani ran the Canadian Narconon long before ABLE was established as Narconon's secular oversight agency. But Keldani left Scientology only in November, citing personal disagreements with church officials. "There's no doubt in my mind that international Scientology management is running Narconon," he said. . . .
Meanwhile, e-mails sent to a private Scientology group and forwarded to The Chronicle by a former Scientologist reveal other ways the church influences classroom instruction. The ex-Scientologist declined to be identified, citing fear of reprisal from the church.
But the e-mails, written by Scientologists, state frankly that Narconon's instruction is delivered in language cleansed of obvious church expressions
and that its speakers rely on church texts called Ethics and "Organizational Executive Courses" to run it.
One of the e-mails was written by Bylsma. On Jan. 24, 2002, he appealed to fellow Scientologists for donated books and other items to help him set up a new Narconon office. In Scientology's dialect, such physical items are known as MEST, which stands for "matter, energy, space, time."
In the e-mail's subject line, Bylsma wrote: "MEST Donations Needed for Narconon Drug Ed." He requested "4 current Ethics Books, 1 current Vol. 0, any current OECs, 1 or 2 good computers" and office space for four.
"Ethics books" contain church rules and sell for $40 on the Scientology Web site. Volume Zero is part of Hubbard's "Organizational Executive Courses," or OECs, which are 14 books on running an organization on Scientology principles. They sell for $155 each.
Asked about the e-mail and why Narconon uses religious texts, Bylsma said the books are helpful.
"Those are not secular books, and there's a certain amount that is unusable for Narconon," he said. "But there are certain things that do apply. I know a lot of organizations that are not religious that use Mr. Hubbard's organization technology -- doctors, lawyers, whole groups."
. . .
Adams of ABLE said questions about church ties distract from Narconon's purpose of giving students a solid anti-drug education.
"We feel we're on a mission, and it's for the good of all of us," he said. "It's part of the overall plan to collaborate with other groups and bring
about a shift in the culture with regard to drug education, prevention and rehabilitation." . . .
Narconon's drug education program has never undergone a rigorous review by independent scientists and is therefore not eligible to appear on the federal government's lists of "effective," "model" or "promising" programs.
"We certainly know we need to do it," Carr said of such a review. "The problem has been having enough time."
Still, Narconon's Web site says the program is highly effective, based on responses to questionnaires given to students and teachers after each presentation. "To date, we have received an overall 95 percent positive response to the program," says the site. "Forty percent reported an increased perception of risk. Forty-five percent said their decision not to use drugs had been reinforced after hearing the talk.
Over 90 percent felt they knew more about drugs after the talk." . . .
Several medical experts question the validity of what students are being told about drugs.
"Where's the evidence that supports what they're saying?" asked Dr. Timmen Cermak, medical director of Ohlhoff Recovery Programs in San Francisco and Marin County and author of "Marijuana: What's a Parent to Believe?" "They're certainly spouting this as though it's proven, but it's not considered important enough to be talked about within the addiction medicine
field," he said. "It's irresponsible."
The doctors contacted by The Chronicle agreed that drug residue can remain in fat for a short time, but not indefinitely.
"The longest we know that THC (the active substance in marijuana) stays in the fat is about a month. For ecstasy and LSD, we're talking about a day or two," said Dr. Neal Benowitz , head of clinical pharmacology at UCSF.
Nor is there evidence that drugs in fat cause cravings or flashbacks, said Banys, of San Francisco's VA Medical Center. "You could also say that craving is caused by evil spirits, which cause you to do bad things and therefore it's demonic possession. You couldn't prove it wasn't, and it seemed to make sense. But that's the use of metaphor, not science."
Banys said research shows that cravings are associated with dopamine, a neurotransmitter. And Cermak said flashbacks are thought to be prompted by "re-exposure to the drug-taking situation, or a reasonable facsimile (that) causes the brain to begin experiencing some of the same chemical changes that administering the drug itself produces."
Drs. Benowitz, Banys and Cermak dismissed the idea that niacin and sauna can rid the body of drugs, as did Dr. David Smith of the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic and Dr. Igor Grant at UC San Diego.
Recently, a San Francisco teacher complained to the district that Narconon was a Scientology front group. The teacher declined to be identified
or quoted, citing Scientology's history of confronting critics. The teacher has teamed with David Touretzky, a computer science research professor at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh and a free-speech advocate who runs
an anti-Narconon Web site that includes some controversial material.
Together, they have pushed school officials to oust Narconon through a section on Touretzky's Web site called "Narconon/Scientology Infiltration of the San Francisco Unified School District."
Kim Coates, a district health administrator who looked into the teacher's complaint, asked Sigal Adini, Narconon's program director, if the curriculum was religious.
"Narconon is a secular (nonreligious) program, and neither our staff nor speakers promote religious doctrines of any kind," Adini wrote the district.
Coates told The Chronicle that "there has been no indication of proselytizing or recruiting or anything inappropriate. It's up to the school
and individual classroom to decide what will best serve students."
San Francisco schools Superintendent Arlene Ackerman said she had been unfamiliar with Narconon, which arranges visits with individual schools. But she said her staff is looking into the program and all others that come into the schools.
"We want to make sure (they are) aligned with what we want our students to know and be able to do," Ackerman said. . . .
Chronicle researcher Kathleen Rhodes contributed to this report. E-mail Nanette Asimov at
nasimov@sfchronicle.com.
This article appeared on page
A - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle
