TV news stories paint the world as falling apart and ugly—a struggling economy on the brink of collapse, people killing each other at alarming rates, and “Big Brother” wanting to get rid of Social Security, upend Medicare, and make us all live green.

Freedom—myth or reality? It is a question that plagues many of us. Can we make our own decisions or are we just puppets, whose strings are being pulled in the direction our leaders want us to go? The answer may be found in . . .

The Social Experiment

“A Story Based on a Real Experience”

    “Ladies and gentlemen, please take out a sheet of paper from your notebook.”

     Jose Ortega groaned, “Oh no, a surprise quiz.”

     The rustling of paper produced the perfect backdrop for the beginning of my class in social psychology at Morris Community College in Southern California. More rustling and a sprinkling of side conversation elevated the noise level.

     “Let’s settle down. Turn your attention to the front of the room, please.”

     At last, the din dissipated and I began. “People, write your name in the top left hand corner of your paper. Place today’s date, October 6, 2008, in the top right hand corner. Now fold your paper in half.”

     The students followed my precise instructions, as I knew they would. But now the real test commenced. Each student focused on my every word. However, what they thought might happen, didn’t.

     “Everybody, stand up,” I instructed.

     I heard some grumbling and sensed a degree of confusion, but all stood. Then I began to rattle off, in quick succession, a list of what must have seemed ridiculous directions.

      “Pick your paper up and crumple it into a ball. Throw it at the person to your right.”

     Students looked at me in dismay. I could see bewilderment in their eyes, but not a word emerged from their lips.

     After taking a short breath, I continued. “Now stand on one foot—now the other. Walk around your chair three times. Sit down. Stand up.”

    I watched as they stood at their desks with all eyes focused on me awaiting the next order from on high. So I pushed them some more.

    “Mr. Adams, come to the front of the room.” Adams plodded up and stood face to face with me.

    “The rest of you, get into line behind Mr. Adams.” All complied.

     “Mr. Adams, you are the leader of this very important parade to nowhere. Start walking to your left around the classroom. Everybody, follow Mr. Adams. Faster! Faster!

     "Now reverse direction behind Ms. Kane. Melanie, you are our new march master.”

     This ridiculousness went on for over ten minutes. Nobody looked happy, but no one posed an objection to the endless array of orders coming from their teacher in front of the room.

     An eerie silence pervaded the classroom, as my students performed as directed. Then, I instructed them to return to their desks and stand next to their seats.

     When all had done so, I screamed in my most commanding voice, “Attention!”

     To my amazement, thirty-three students positioned themselves in perfect military formation in front of me, their eyes peering straight into mine. Nobody waivered. Nobody said a word—all sheep in this flock ready for the grand finale—the epitome of learning.

     “My children, my obedient followers, please pay homage to me, your almighty leader. Bow down to me in tribute to my infinite wisdom and greatness,” I ordered.

     With my arms outstretched in front of me, my subservient flock bowed before me. Not one of them objected. All stayed in position with heads lowered.

     My gut ached at what I saw. I hadn’t expected such obedience. It appeared I had power beyond anything I’d ever imagined—but why?

     These compliant troops remained in position awaiting my next pronouncement. Not a soul moved. This scared the hell out of me. I gathered up my strength and motioned to them to sit down, and they did so without hesitation.

     No one spoke. They focused on me and waited for my next order—one they no doubt would obey without thinking.

     I took a deep breath, thus calming my nerves and the queasiness in my stomach. Watching them as they sat before me in a trancelike state, I spoke in a slow, deliberate manner, “Ladies and gentleman, do you know what has happened?”

     Not a word uttered. Even those who talked in class all the time seemed reluctant to respond to my query.  

     Somewhat flustered, I posed a more direct question. “Why did you do what I asked you to do?” Still, no response. “Didn’t some of the directions I gave you seem ridiculous and maybe even irresponsible on my part?”

     Jared looked at me. He shook. His voice quivered as he spoke. “Yeah. I didn’t understand why, but you’re my teacher, Mr. Watkins.”

     I looked at the class. “Did you hear what Jared said?”

     There was a lot of head shaking.

     “Does being your teacher give me the right to make you do outlandish things?”

     “Well, I thought you must’ve had a reason,” Rebecca exclaimed.

     Sal, seated behind her looking bemused, muttered, “Your lessons always are making some point. I thought you would get to it sooner or later.”

     My next questions produced shocked looks upon the faces of my students. “How far could I have gone before you rebelled? What would have pushed that final button?”

     Anita looked around at her fellow classmates for support before responding. “Mr. Watkins, you wouldn’t do anything that was wrong or would hurt us. Would you?” she murmured.

     “I don’t know,” I replied. “Would I? How do you know how far I’d go? Did you ever expect me to put you through what I did today?” No immediate response. They sat there with blank expressions on their faces. Then a hand went up in the back of the classroom.

     “Yes, Louis.”

     “But you’re the teacher and we’re supposed to do what you say or . . .”

     “Or what? Pretend that I have a switch in front of me that will launch the bomb to blow up all of Northern California. The next command I give you Louis is to flip the switch. Would you do it?”

     He sat there, mustering up his strength, and said, “No. I don’t think so.”

     “But you did bow down to me. Isn’t asking you to do that overstepping my bounds as your teacher?”

     Before anyone could answer, I noticed the time on the clock on the wall in the back of the room. My fifty-minute hour was up. I felt awful as I dismissed the class. I didn’t know if they’d gotten the point of “The Social Experiment.” Could they see that authority has boundaries that leaders try to push all the time, usually to the detriment of those they lead?

     As the students filed out of the classroom, Louis turned to me and blurted, “Yeah, man, I’d flip the switch.”

     I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. “You would,” I gasped, as he left the room without saying another word. And I didn’t know if he was kidding.

Copyright © 2011 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.