I recently read from Rod Janzen's seminal 2001 book The Rise and Fall of Synanon: A California Utopia and what I found was truly insightful. I've provided a few examples here, with some sections made bold or underlined for emphasis:
On occasion, teens on probation were also accepted as Synanon residents. Chris Haberman, for example, joined Synanon as an alternative to prison in 1968. Upon the counsel of a Detroit judge, Richard Baxter joined Synanon in similar fashion three years later. But past work with young adults had been entered into on an ad hoc basis, with no ongoing relationship. Synanon's new venture was different. It was a large-scale program that found the commune taking care of hundreds of juvenile offenders.
Synanon people believed that if anyone could help troubled children, they could, with their wealth of knowledge about character-disordered human beings. The foundation had years of experience with addicts and could house young offenders in an isolated rural setting. Surely Synanon's self-actualized residents could work effectively with this new group. Accustomed to success and wanting to convince federal agencies that drug rehabilitation was still a major focus, Synanon went into the program with both enthusiasm and a measure of apprehension. For a small group of law-enforcement officials and public defenders, Synanon was indeed an attractive alternative to incarceration.
Although his primary interest was helping adult criminals, Fred Davis, an Oakland probation officer, had significant influence on the establishment of the juvenile program. A former liscenced Baptist minister from Arkansas, David had started playing the game in 1967. At the time he was a very frustrated man, having experienced what he described as "minimal success" with his clients, who invariably returned to the streets. But Davis saw something different happening at Synanon, and during the period 1967-73 he convinced the foundation to accept forty-nine adult drug addicts and criminals into residence on an experimental basis. Davis then conducted research---which provided the foundation for a master's thesis at California State University, Hayward---that determined that the program had been a success for thirty-eight of the forty-nine involved. Davis, who became a Synanon resident in 1973, was excited about further possibilities.
Synanon's primary interest, however, was not adults but the large number of delinquent children who were stuck in the Nevada, Michigan, and California court systems. Particularly influential in this regard were the writings of criminologist E. Harold Sutherland and the sociologist Donald Cressey, an early Synanon supporter, who believed that delinquency was learned behavior, picked up from peers who engaged in crime. Perhaps Synanon's unique approach was the perfect antidote. (pp. 115-6)
Then again, perhaps it wasn't perfect after all. Janzen goes on to describe the "punk squad" Synanon set up to keep these juvenile offenders in line:
When juveniles took advantage of Synanon's nonviolent approach to discipline, community leaders decided to take strong action, permitting punk-squad workers to use various forms of violence, like pushing offenders to the ground by the chest. In a game, Chuck Dederich affirmed the policy of "knocking those punks on their *advertiser censored*" when necessary. (p. 117)
Synanon leaders decided that force was warranted in situations when nine- to fifteen-year-old juveniles disobeyed, yelled profanities, and taunted, "You can't do anything to me." In the past, violators might have been removed from the community, but the punks were there under contract. (p. 121)
Those placed in the punk squad had to hold open doors for all "non-punks, regardless of age; punks were to sit in the back of community vehicles; non-punks were to be addressed as "sir" or "ma'am"; and punks were to smile at all times. Punks also had to rise at 4:00 am each day and undergo rigorous daily inspections." (p 118)
And speaking of rising early, I finally found a detailed account of what one of Synanon's "Boot Camps" would have been like:
Ironically, Synanon "boot camps" had originally been established in the early 1970s for a select group of "most likely to succeed" residents. The Synanon Academy was the prototype. The program changed when Synanon began to require that all newcomers spend time in boot camps as part of a thirty-day orientation experience. This practice was first introduced by Leon Levy at the Oakland facility.
In the boot camps all newcomers learned to work long, hard hours to develop a new sense of self-respect---just like the punks---following Synanon's traditional adherence to a philosophy of conditional love. They were also required to carry notebooks so that they could document important ideas and experiences. Uniformed newcomers performed heavy physical and intellectual work and underwent continual inspections. By the mid-1970s most new members were sent to Tomales Bay for this experience since Marin County provided plenty of fresh air and limitless opportunities for physical activities.
Boot-camp instructors were enjoined to "make it rough" since, the words of one individual, they "may as well leave during the first week" if they were going to split anyway. In May 1972, Leon Levy and a number of Synanon administrators spent two weeks experiencing the camp firsthand. In his notebook, Levy described an arduous yet gratifying adventure that included sleeping in tents during very cold nights, marches and drills from 4:00 to 6:00 am, and hard manual labor to test their endurance. Levy learned to appreciate a warm shower and a good meal at the end of the day, and noted the development of a strong esprit de corps. "Boot campt is a place to exercise the will muscle," he wrote positively. There was no violence mentioned in Levy's journal.
Boot camp was sometimes extended to half a year, however, and included members undergoing disciplinary action. The increasing use of terms like reeducation, retraining, and containment in relation to such experiences later caused news agencies to envision a totalitarian society that in actuality was not as critics portrayed it. But although the punk squad experience was rougher than the reeducation or newcomer camps, squares considered even the latter to be a far cry from the game clubs that had earlier been the point of entry to the commune. (pp. 120-1)
And here's a little something about being "gamed:"
At as early as age three Synanon's children were introduced to the game. (p. 78)
Many school veterans said that in actuality children's games had often devolved into petty backbiting. According to Bill Olin, "Outside the game, arguments were infrequent, crying was rare, and fighting was almost non-existent. In side the game, however, children sometimes experienced emotional terror. (p. 79)
The experience also taught children to speak clearly and assertively. But players also found themselves "cut to their core feelings," as one individual put it, and many are still angry about having been forced to take part. (p. 79)
Many of those interviewed said that they had incurred emotional damage before reaching an appropriate level of maturity. (p. 80)
Younger residents who were turned loose in the game were simply not ready for it.
