Performance Improvement Plan - Chapter 4

September 14th, 2025 - Dr. Joanna Becker

I have had misgivings about the direction of this project for months, but it’s only now that I’m realizing just how far I have allowed things to be taken, and how little power I have to stop it.

***

Jody sat forward in her chair, hand on mouth, teeth gently chewing the inside of her cheek as she considered her next move. It was the day of Ted Murphy’s third session, and he was sitting across from her, already deep in the state of mental operability (“trance” was less of a mouthful, but Jody hated how fabulistic it sounded).

What, exactly, was she hoping to get out of all of this? A published paper? Prestige and recognition? If so, why was she playing so fast and loose with the ethics? Even if she technically had all the proper signatures and was being careful to edit her transcripts, there was no way the things she was doing would hold up to professional scrutiny. If she let the psychiatric community review her work here, they would tear it apart, bar her from ever practicing again, and likely throw out her results along with everything else. The idea that this was building up to some grand paper that would vindicate decades of hard work and ridicule was nothing but a convenient fiction, unless she started over from scratch; undo Ted’s first two sessions of conditioning, explain to him exactly what she was hoping to do, and work with him to achieve goals that he would be enthusiastic about.

And she was certain that she wouldn’t be doing any of that.

So then what? Was she acting as some kind of rogue vigilante? Righting wrongs, making the world a better place? If that was the underlying motivation, then there were better ways to go about it. She could’ve simply implanted suggestions to make Ted a kinder and more compassionate person, replaced his insecure projection with real confidence. He’d be a better, happier person, and the women he’d been terrorizing in his office would probably be better off than they are with her current course of action. It still would’ve been ethically dodgy, but at least she’d be able to argue that she was leaving her patient better than how she found him.

And yet, that wasn’t the course of action she’d been taking. Instead, she was using a technique that had cost her years upon years of blood, sweat and tears to develop to toy with him, to exacerbate those insecurities instead of eliminating them, to make him miserable. What was the point in that?

Her heart was telling her something that her head didn’t want to hear: that she was doing this because Ted Murphy reminded her of all the cruel, overbearing, pig-headed men that had obstructed her career at every turn from the moment she started working on her PhD, and this was nothing but an act of revenge, that she was simply flexing the power she now had over the human mind to demonstrate to herself more than anyone else that men like Ted Murphy could no longer control her.

She didn’t think of herself as a vindictive person… But then, Ted didn’t think of himself as a bully.

So. That was that. She was motivated by spite, and not even spite toward the man she was hurting. It was compromising her practice, her research, her career. She was risking everything in the name of petty schadenfreude.

The only ethical move would be to stop immediately. Undo the conditioning, thank Mr. Murphy for his time, and politely break off their clinical relationship. Turn in everything to the APA and accept whatever judgment they issued.

“Ted, are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” he answered in a soft, droning tone.

“I have a new instruction for you, and I need you to listen very carefully.”

***

June 29th, 2024 - Dr. Joanna Becker

The efficacy of the hypnotic frequency is easy to verify. Even I’ve exposed myself to its effects, and although we have only a small number of case studies, they are extremely consistent in their results: a patient clinician can implant any instructions they wish into a subject. Full consistency of the results do require some repeated sessions; for instance, after two sessions, Mr. Murphy is occasionally still capable of acting with aggression if pushed hard enough. But he is clearly much more avoidant of conflict than he was before the treatment began, and after a few more sessions, the implanted instructions should take complete hold, making him docile, with an inclination toward subservience.

While we will continue to work with Mr. Murphy on these fronts, in today’s session I am taking a step toward something quite different, something that will test the most extreme ends of what we are able to accomplish through this medical technique. Should these experiments prove successful, they will be the foundation not for merely a breakthrough in psychology, or even in the field of medicine as a whole. If this experiment succeeds, we stand to rewrite the book on the very nature of the world we inhabit, from its first page onward.

Does essence precede existence? Do we shape reality, or does reality shape us? Science, in many ways, presupposes that existence precedes essence, and that “essence,” however one defines it, is a questionable concept at best. We observe the world, make guesses about the rules that dictate our observations, and construct experiments to test the veracity of our guesses. Science is, traditionally, rooted firmly in the material, and to suggest otherwise will get one laughed out of any respectable university, as I can attest firsthand.

However, in my years of study, I have come across certain cases that force me to question this received wisdom. I have seen, firsthand, monks and hermits that could effect a change in their bodies and in their environment, through nothing but the power of their mind. Small changes, to be clear: cuts that heal in hours rather than days, stone that shifts from one shade of grey to another. I realize that instances like these, and many more, are resoundingly dismissed as hoaxes by our modern skeptical society, but I have seen enough evidence personally that I find this kind of mental power to be worthy of further study.

Those with abilities like these who were kind enough to allow me to interview them made it clear that even these minor feats took their entire lifetime to master. They considered these alterations to their bodies and their world to be nothing but parlor tricks, side effects of the inner enlightenment they had attained. Pressed further for detail, it was made clear that these changes were the result of the ability to empty one’s mind and form a belief, one that the practitioner held so strongly that it became true. To truly and completely believe a falsehood with such utter conviction that it ceases to BE a falsehood is where the decades of meditation and mental conditioning come in; if you or I attempted such a thing, we would be held back by a belief somewhere inside of us that what we were trying was impossible, and in believing that it was impossible, we would make it so.

But… what if we were able to bypass those decades of training? What if we had a method of making someone believe an impossible truth, fully and completely? For instance… what if we were to hypnotically implant an absolute, unwavering conviction in someone? A belief buried so deeply into their psyche they weren’t even fully conscious of the extent of the belief? Could we attain similar results? Could we push this technique beyond what the monks can do with their short lifespans and inefficient methods? 

That is the hypothesis I’m going to begin testing today with Mr. Murphy.

***

Beth let out a long, low sigh, an unconsciously-tensed muscle somewhere deep in her core relaxing as she eased her head onto her desk.

For the first time since she’d started working here, she was actually caught up.

She silently half-laughed, half-cried as she picked herself up and checked off the final book on her to-do list on the team spreadsheet. It was over! No more early mornings or late nights! 

Beth practically danced in her chair, before realizing that she was making her skirt ride up and stopped to smooth it out. She still wasn’t used to wearing the thing, or the hose underneath of it; after they’d gone out drinking, Joyce had insisted on taking her shopping for some new outfits. Beth had tried to get out of it at first, but finally relented, and honestly? She was glad she did. Joyce was actually really nice. She never would’ve guessed it, given how quiet and cold she was at the office, but she was incredibly sweet and fun to be around.

And, to her credit, she also had pretty great fashion sense. Beth had never given much thought to how she dressed or styled herself, opting for off-the-rack pantsuits and unflattering khakis and polo shirts. She had the height and proportions of a sixth grader, and she’d just sort of assumed that she wouldn’t look particularly good no matter how she dressed. She had to admit that the sharp blazer and pencil skirt Joyce had picked out for her put the lie to that assumption. She actually liked how she looked in her new clothes, which was an unfamiliar feeling for her.

Laura had been much more supportive ever since that night, too. Beth had barely spoken to her since joining the team, but this past week she was constantly checking in, offering to look over her stuff before she submitted it to Mr. Murphy, and sending her all sorts of advice. It was maybe a little… presumptive; a lot of it was stuff Beth already knew. But unlike Mr. Murphy’s endless lectures and relentless criticism, it was clear that Laura’s actions were coming from a genuine desire to help. This was obviously just how she showed she cared, so Beth was happy to smile and nod along to advice that would’ve been way more useful six months ago.

Francesca had been a little less forward than the other two, but Beth was starting to gather that she really was just a more quiet kind of person. Even so, Beth knew that she was the one that had gotten the ball rolling on everyone else getting on better terms with her, and the one who had reported Ted. They weren’t talking much, but as cube-neighbors they were sharing a lot more warm smiles than they used to, and that was plenty.

But, really, for as much as Beth appreciated the sudden increase in support from her coworkers, the main reason she’d been able to finally get caught up on her work was that Mr. Murphy had been leaving her the hell alone. He was even quieter this week than last, practically seeming to hide in his office all day, a difficult task when the front wall was transparent. When he did step out, to use the bathroom or something, he moved as quickly as he could, avoiding eye contact with anybody.

That was fine by Beth.

Feeling a surge of satisfaction, she leaned back in her office chair and closed her eyes, grinning. God. She’d really done it! She hadn’t even realized just how much tension she’d been carrying in her body these long months, tension that was now seeping out of her as she quietly basked in the glory of the moment.

“Beth?”

The sound of Mr. Murphy’s voice startled her awake, reflexively giving her a burst of panic. Oh God, how long had she fallen asleep for?

“Um! Yes, sir! I… Uh…” Beth’s chair squeaked as she launched herself forward, anxiously adjusting her hair.

“That’s… the second time I’ve found you sleeping at your desk. Do we need to have a conversation about this?”

“Uh! Uh, no, um, I’m very sorry, I…” even as she stammered through a response, she felt a calmness overtake her. It was… it was the same as last week. As she looked up at her boss, nothing about him really intimidated her, even as he loomed over her, having caught her red-handed doing something that she shouldn’t have been doing. Behind him, she could see Laura emerging from her office and making her way over.

Beth didn’t need her help. She stood up, surprised by just how much less imposing Mr. Murphy seemed with the slight boost the modest heels of her new shoes gave her. He was objectively a much larger person than her… but, God, for some reason he sure didn’t seem like it. And what the hell was with his clothes? Maybe it was just because Beth was finally paying attention to her own wardrobe, but she was really taking note of how he dressed for the first time, and absolutely nothing fit him right. Did he lose some weight and never bother to get his suit retailored or something?

Laura stopped walking at the sound of Beth’s voice. “Actually, Mr… Actually, Ted, I was just rewarding myself a little bit, because I finally got through all of my manuscripts. For once, I’ve got nothing to do right now.” She tried her best to hold back the contempt in her voice, but it was still seeping through, seasoning each word.

“Oh. Well, you should have told me—”

“I updated the spreadsheet. You could’ve looked at it, same as anyone. Laura? Did you know that I’d wrapped up everything I had on my plate?”

Ted whipped around, apparently not having heard the other woman approaching. Laura smiled.

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

A creaking sound emerged from Ted’s throat. He actually looked a little nervous to be flanked by the two women. “Well, uh… That’s, that’s a fair point, I suppose. Um. Then, I should take a look at what you’ve submitted and add some notes.”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to add any notes to my work.” Beth took a step towards him, and couldn’t hold back a smile as he actually took a step back, in the direction of Francesca’s cubicle; the tall woman’s tan face and dark hair began to poke up from behind the wall, and on her other side, Joyce was peeking out to watch, too. “Everything I submitted is perfect, and you know it’s perfect, because you’ve been reviewing my output for 8 months now, and the only contribution you’ve made to any of my work is nitpicky bullshit.” Ted’s mouth formed an “O” at the curse, but he remained silent. “All you ever do is find excuses to smudge your grimy fingerprints all over my drafts, so that you can make it look like you’re doing something. You’re not. I’ve been more productive the past two weeks than I have been the past two months, and it’s because you’ve left me alone to work.”

“But—”

“So what you’re going to do, is you’re gonna go back to your office, you’re going to read my drafts, you’re going to see that I’m completely right about how good they are, and you’re gonna give them your approval. Got it?”

A voice in the back of Beth’s head was screaming, mortified that she was talking to anybody like this, much less her boss.The shocked look on Laura’s face seemed to echo the sentiment. She just… she couldn’t help it! The idea of taking this man seriously, of giving him even an ounce of respect, it just seemed… silly!

“Beth, you… you can’t talk to me like—”

“Got it?” Beth repeated, despite herself.

“...Yes. Um. I’m sorry.”

Beth wasn’t sure how she’d expected him to respond, but that definitely wasn’t it. From the look on Laura’s face, it had surprised her just as much.

“...I forgive you.”

Ted seemed to go temporarily cross-eyed, slumping more severely as he trudged back to his office. As soon as he was gone, that voice in the back of Beth’s head started screaming louder and louder, and she nearly went catatonic as she fell back into her chair.

“Oh God. Ohhhh God oh God oh God oh God. What did I do? What did I just do?” Laura cautiously approached her as she continued murmuring to herself. “I’m gonna get fired. He’s gonna fire me and he’s gonna tell every publisher in the country to never hire me. Why did I do that? I finally… oh God I’m gonna get fired, I’m gonna get fired…”

“He’s not going to fire you,” Laura offered, setting a hand on Beth’s. “Not right now, at least. It would look bad for him if he fired you so soon after getting reported for harassing you. But… Yeah, we’ve gotta figure out how to control your temper, girl.”

Beth could hear what Laura was saying, but her anxiety had her completely paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare, her breathing quick and shallow.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, loved the show. But telling him off isn’t worth losing your job, no matter how good it feels. We’ve got to make him forget this ever happened by your next performance review. You need to get into ass-kissing mode, and we need to figure out how to stop you from mouthing off.”

Beth remained unresponsive.

“Where did that even come from?” Joyce suddenly butted in, squeezing past Laura to get into the cubicle. Francesca was leaning over their shared wall. “When we went shopping last weekend, you apologized to an elevator when you thought you were taking too long to pick a floor.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know! I-I-I just… it, it, it just happened! It’s something about, I mean… there’s something weird about him. I don’t know, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Beth’s voice dropped beneath a whisper as she continued to mutter apologies to no one in particular, her mind floating away from the shame of the moment. Laura, Francesca, and Joyce all shared confused, worried looks.

***

June 29th, 2024 - Dr. Joanna Becker

DR. BECKER: Ted, are you listening to me?

MR. MURPHY: Yes.

DR. BECKER: I have a new instruction for you, and I need you to listen very carefully.

MR. MURPHY: Listen… carefully.

At this point, I retrieved a visual focus from my desk: a mobile tablet with a stand, or, more specifically, the video on it. The video is a seamless ten second loop of black and white concentric circles shrinking into one another. Stare at it for long enough, and it will temporarily create the optical illusion that the world around you is expanding. I set the video up and faced it toward Mr. Murphy.

DR. BECKER: Ted, I want you to open your eyes, and lean forward. I know it’s difficult. I know that your body feels very heavy and sluggish, that moving at all takes great effort. But I want you to remember what we talked about last week, that you should always follow a direct command given to you, no matter what. Good, Ted, good. You’re doing very well. I want you to stare at the screen in front of you. Look into it deeply, watch the rings as they shrink… shrink… shrink. I want you to focus on this video so heavily that everything else falls away. Your eyes can not see anything but the video. Shrink. Shrink. Shrink. Say that with me, Ted.

DR. BECKER AND MR. MURPHY IN TANDEM: Shrink, shrink, shrink. Shrink, shrink, shrink. Shrink, shrink, shrink. Shrink, shrink, shrink.

Noting here that Ted continued to mouth the word “shrink” over and over throughout the rest of this hypnotic session, any time I was not prompting him to answer a question.

DR. BECKER: Very good, Ted. Very, very good. You just sit there and watch the video while I speak. How tall are you, Ted?

MR. MURPHY: Six… six four…

Again, Mr. Murphy’s chart indicates that he is 6’2”. That he is continuing to assert this falsehood even while hypnotized shows just how deeply he has even convinced himself that he is taller than he is.

While this is just a hypothesis at this stage, I have reason to believe that this is actually a very good thing for our purposes. Mr. Murphy is already denying the current truth of his height; that should make modifying his beliefs about it easier.

DR. BECKER: Ted, that was a fib. Your doctor says that you’re six foot two.

MR. MURPHY: Six… two…

DR. BECKER: But I don’t think that’s right either. You seem much shorter than six foot two. How tall are you, Ted?

MR. MURPHY: Six. Two.

DR. BECKER: No, that can’t be right. You are shorter than that. Shrink, shrink, shrink. Shrink, shrink, shrink. I can’t say for certain just how short you are, but you have been fibbing about your height. However tall you claim to be, however tall you believe yourself to be, you are shorter than that. Shorter. Shorter. Shorter. Shrink. Shrink. Shrink.

MR. MURPHY: Shorter… shrink…

DR. BECKER: That’s right Ted. For the rest of this session, I want you to sit here and watch the video. You’re doing such a good job, and I’m very happy with you.

Noting here that despite the state of mental operability the subject smiled, a result of last week’s implanted suggestion to derive strong inner happiness from the approval of others.

DR. BECKER: Watch the video, and keep repeating to yourself: shrink, shrink, shrink. Repeat to yourself as well the mantra from before: embrace weakness. Shrink, shrink, shrink. Embrace Weakness.

MR. MURPHY: Embrace weakness… shrink…

DR. BECKER: Shrink, shrink, shrink.

MR. MURPHY: Shrink, shrink, shrink.

DR. BECKER: Embrace weakness.

MR. MURPHY: Embrace weakness.

DR. BECKER: Shrink, shrink, shrink.

I proceeded in this manner with Mr. Murphy for the remainder of the hour.