The potential of the psychedelic drugs to provide access to the interior universe, is, I believe, their most valuable property.
From the earliest days of his time on earth, Man has sought out and used specific plants which have had the effect of altering the way he interacts with his world and communicates with his gods and with himself. For many thousands of years, in every known culture, there has been some percentage of the population - usually the shamans, the curenderos, the medicine men -
which has used this or that plant to achieve a transformation in its state of consciousness.
These people have used the altered state to sharpen their diagnostic abilities and to enable them to draw upon the healing energies to be found in the world of the spirits. The tribal leaders (in later civilizations, the royal families) presumably used the psychoactive plants to increase their insight and wisdom as rulers, or perhaps simply to call upon the forces of destructive power as allies in forthcoming battles.
Many plants have been found to meet specific human needs. Unwanted pain has been with mankind forever. Just as we today have our heroin (or Fentanyl or Demerol) users, for centuries past this analgesic role has been played by opium of the Old World and datura of the New World, man-dragora in Europe and North Africa, as well as henbane, belladonna and mandrake, to name a few. Countless people have used this way of deadening pain (physical and psychic), which involves escape into a dream world. And, although these tools have had many users, it apparently has been only a minority that has abused them. Historically, every culture has spun these plants into its daily life, and has had more benefit than harm from them. We have, in our own society, learned to deaden physical pain and debilitating anxiety with the medical use of drugs which have been developed in imitation of the alkaloids in these plants.
The need to search out sources of additional energy has also been with us forever. And, as we have our caffeine and cocaine users, for centuries the natural sources have been mate tea and the coca plant of the New World, the khat plant of Asia Minor, the kola tree of North Africa, kava-kava and the betel nut from Eastern Asia, and ephedra from all parts of the world. Again, many kinds of people - the peasant, stooped under a bundle of firewood, trudging for hours on a mountain path; the doctor on emergency duty for two days without sleep; the soldier under fire at the front, unable to rest - have sought the push and prod of stimulation. And, as always, there have been a few who have chosen to abuse the process.
Then, there is the need to explore the world that lies just beyond the immediate limits of our senses and our understanding; that, too, has been with mankind from the first. But in this case, our non-native North American society has not given its acceptance to the plants, the chemicals, that open up our seeing and feeling skills. Other civilizations, for many hundreds of years, have used the peyote cactus and the psilocybin-containing mushroom, the ayahuasca, cohoba and yaje of the New World, the harmala, cannabis and soma of the Old World, and the iboga of Africa, for this inquiry into the human unconscious. But our modern medical profession, as a whole, has never acknowledged these tools for insight or for therapy, and they have remained generally unacceptable. In the establishment of a balance of power between those who heal us and those who govern us, it has been agreed that the possession and use of these remarkable plants shall be a crime. And that the use of any chemical compounds which have been developed in imitation of these plants, even though they might show improved safety and consistency of action, shall also be a crime.
We are a great nation with one of the highest standards of living ever known. We are proud of an extraordinary Constitution that protects us from the tyranny that has torn apart lesser nations. We are rich in the heritage of English law that assumes our innocence and assures us our personal privacy. One of the major strengths of our country has been in its traditional respect for the individual. Each and every one of us is free - or so we have always believed - to follow whatever religious or spiritual path he chooses; free to inquire, to explore, to seek information and pursue truth wherever and however he wishes, as long as he accepts full responsibility for his actions and their effects on others.
How is it, then, that the leaders of our society have seen fit to try to eliminate this one very important means of learning and self-discovery, this means which has been used, respected, and honored for thousands of years, in every human culture of which we have a record? Why has peyote, for instance, which has served for centuries as a means by which a person may open his soul to an experience of God, been classified by our government as a Schedule I material, along with cocaine, heroin and PCP? Is this kind of legal condemnation the result of ignorance, pressure from organized religion, or a growing urge to force conformity upon the population? Part of the answer may lie in an increasing trend in our culture towards both paternalism and provincialism.
Paternalism is the name for a system in which the authorities supply our needs, and - in exchange - are allowed to dictate our conduct, both public and private. Provincialism is narrowness of outlook, social unification by the acceptance of a single code of ethics, the limiting of interests and forms of experience to those already established as traditional.
However, the prejudice against the use of consciousness-opening plants and drugs has the major part of its origin in racial intolerance and the accumulation of political power. In the latter part of the last century, once the Intercontinental Railway had been built and the Chinese laborers were no longer needed, they were increasingly portrayed as subhuman and uncivilized; they were yellow-skinned, slant-eyed, dangerous aliens who frequented opium dens.
Peyote was described, in various publications of the late 19th century, as the cause of murder, mayhem and insanity among the shiftless American Indians. The Bureau of Indian Affairs was determined to stamp out the use of peyote, (which it consistently confused with mescal and the mescal bean, in its publications), and one of the most consistent pressures behind its efforts is made clear in this partial quotation from a letter written by the Reverend B. V.
Gassaway in 1903 to the BIA, "... The Sabbath is the principal day for our preaching services and if the Indians are first made drunk on mescal (peyote) they cannot then be benefitted by the gospel."
It was only with tremendous effort and courage on the part of many people of conscience that the use of peyote as a sacrament in the Native American Church was permitted to continue.
There is now underway, as you know/ a renewed effort on the part of our present government to eliminate the religious use of peyote by our Native Americans.
In the 1930's, there was an effort to deport Mexican laborers from southern agricultural states, and racial prejudice was again deliberately encouraged, with the Mexicans being described as lazy, dirty, and users of that dangerous stuff called marijuana. The intolerance of black people in the United States was aided and abetted by stories of marijuana and heroin use among black musicians. It should be noted that nobody remarked on such drug use by black people until their new music, which they called jazz, began to attract the attention of whites - at first only white nightclub patrons - and there began the first stirrings of awareness of the indignities and injustices being suffered by black Americans.
We, in this country, are all too painfully aware of our past sins in regard to the rights of various minorities, but we are less conscious of the way in which the public attitude toward certain drugs has been manipulated. New positions of political power and, eventually, thousands of new jobs, were created on the basis of the perceived threat to public health and safety posed by plants and drugs whose sole function was to change perceptions, to open the way to exploration of the unconscious mind, and - for many - to allow a direct experience of the numinous.
The 1960's, of course, delivered a powerful blow to the psychedelics. These drugs were being used as part and parcel of a massive rebellion against governmental authority and what was believed to be an immoral and unnecessary war in Vietnam. Also, there were too many loud and autho
ritative voices claiming that there was a need for a new kind of spirituality, and urging the use of psychedelics to make direct contact with one's God, without the intervention of priest, minister or rabbi.
The voices of psychiatrists, writers and philosophers, and many thoughtful members of the clergy, pleaded for study and investigation of the effects of psychedelics, and of what they could reveal about the nature and function of the human mind and psyche. They were ignored in the clamor against flagrant abuse and misuse, of which there was more than ample evidence. The government and the Church decided that psychedelic drugs were dangerous to society, and with the help of the press, it was made clear that this was the way to social chaos and spiritual disaster.
What was unstated, of course, was the oldest rule of all: "Thou shalt not oppose nor embarrass those in power without being punished."
I have stated some of my reasons for holding the view that psychedelic drugs are treasures.
There are others, and many of them are spun into the texture of this story. There is, for instance, the effect they have on my perception of colors, which is completely remarkable.
Also, there is the deepening of my emotional rapport with another person, which can become an exquisitely beautiful experience, with eroticism of sublime intensity. I enjoy the enhancement of the senses of touch, smell and taste, and the fascinating changes in my perception of the flow of time.
I deem myself blessed, in that I have experienced/ however briefly, the existence of God. I have felt a sacred oneness with creation and its Creator, and - most precious of all -1 have touched the core of my own soul.
It is for these reasons that I have dedicated my life to this area of inquiry. Someday I may understand how these simple catalysts do what they do. In the meantime, I am forever in their debt. And I will forever be their champion.
THE PROCESS OF DISCOVERY
The second most often asked question, after, "Why do you do the work you do?" is: "How do you determine the activity of a new drug?"
How does one go about discovering the action, the nature of the effect on the central nervous system, of a chemical which has just been synthesized, but not yet put into a living organism?
I start by explaining that it must be understood, first of all, that the newborn chemical is as free of pharmacological activity as a newborn babe is free of prejudice. At the moment of a person's conception, many fates have been sealed, from physical features to gender and intelligence. But many things have not been decided. Subtleties of personality, belief systems, countless other characteristics, are not established at birth. In the eyes of every newborn, there is a universality of innocence and godliness which changes gradually as interactions take place with parents, siblings and the environment. The adult product is shaped from repeated contacts with pains and pleasures, and what finally emerges is the fatalist, the egocentric, or the rescuer. And the traveling companions of this person during his development from undefined infant to well-defined adult, all have contributed to and have been, in turn, modified by these interactions.
So it is also with a chemical. When the idea of a new substance is conceived, nothing exists but symbols, a collage of odd atoms hooked together with bonds, all scribbled out on a blackboard or a napkin at the dinner table. The structure, of course, and perhaps even some spectral characteristics and physical properties are inescapably pre-ordained. But its character in man, the nature of its pharmacological action or even the class of the action it might eventually display can only be guessed at. These properties cannot yet be known, for at this stage they do not yet exist.
Even when the compound emerges as a new substance, tangible, palpable, weighable, it is still a tabula rasa in the pharmacological sense, in that nothing is known, nothing can be known, about its action in man, since it has never been in man. It is only with the development of a relationship between the thing tested and the tester himself that this aspect of character will emerge, and the tester is as much a contributor to the final definition of the drug's action as is the drug itself. The process of establishing the nature of a compound's action is synonymous with the process of developing that action.
Other researchers who taste your material will include some (most, you hope) who make separate evaluations after the fact and will agree with your evaluations, and it will then appear that you defined (developed) the properties accurately. Other researchers (only a few, you hope) will disagree, and they will privately tend to wonder why they failed to evaluate the material more accurately. You might call this a no-lose situation, and it is the reward for personally following all three parts of this process, namely conception, creation, and definition.
But it must be kept in mind that the interaction goes both ways; the tester, as well as the compound being tested, is molded by it.
I determine activity in the most ancient and time-honored way, established and practiced for thousands of years by medicine men and shamans who had to know the effects of plants which might prove useful in healing. The method is obvious to anyone who gives the matter some thought. Although most of the compounds I investigate are created in the laboratory, and I seldom taste plants or fungi found in nature/ there is still only one way to do it, a way that minimizes the risk, while maximizing the quality of the information obtained. I take the compound myself. I test its physical effects in my own body and I stay attentive to any mental effects which might be present.
Before I elaborate on this old-fashioned method of discovering a new drug's activity, let me explain how I feel about animal testing and why I no longer rely on it in my own research.
I used to use animals, when I worked at Dole, to detect toxicity. Obviously, drugs which promise to have clinical utility must, and should, go through the established procedures of IND
(Investigation of New Drug) permits and clinical trials prior to large-scale studies in humans.
But I have not killed mice experimentally for two decades, and cannot foresee any need to do so again. My reasons for having decided against the use of test animals are as follows.
During the time when I routinely tested every new, potentially psychoactive drug in mice to establish the LD-50 (the dosage level at which 50% of the test animals die), two generalities became obvious. All of the LD-50's seemed to group in the area between 50 and 150
milligrams per kilogram of body weight. For a 25 gram mouse, that would be somewhere around five milligrams. And, secondly, the number gives no prediction of the potency or character of action the drug could eventually show in man. Nevertheless, numerous compounds have been "established" in the scientific literature as being psychedelic in their action solely on the basis of animal assays, without any human evaluation having been performed. I believe totally that assays such as nest building among mice, disruption of conditioned response/ grooming, maze running, or motor-activity have no value in determining the psychedelic potential of a compound.
One form of animal study does indeed have merit, and that is the cardiovascular monitoring and eventual pathological examination of an experimental animal which has been given an increasingly large dosage of a test compound. The animal I have used has usually been the dog. This form of testing is certainly useful in determining the nature of toxic effects that should be watched for, but it is still of no value in defining the subjective effects of a psychoactive drug in a human.
My usual starting point with a new drug is some 10 to 50 times less, by weight, than the known active level of its closest analog. If I have any doubts, I go down by a factor of 10
again. Some compounds that are closely related to previously assayed drugs of low potency have been started at the milligram level. But there are other compounds - those of an entirely new, unexplored class - which I may start nibbling at levels even below a microgram. There is no completely safe procedure. Different lines of reasoning may lead to different predictions of a dosage level likely to be inactive in man. A prudent researcher begins his exploration at the lowest of these. However, there
is always the question, "Yes, but what if -?" One can argue AFTER the fact that - in chemist's jargon - the ethyl group increased the potency over the methyl group because of lipophilicity, or decreased the potency because of ineffective enzymatic demethylation. My decisions, therefore, have had to be a mixture of intuition and probabilities.
There are very few drugs that, upon structural change by a single carbon atom (this is called homologation), change their pharmacological potency by an order of magnitude. There are very few compounds that are orally active at levels much below 50 micrograms. And I have discovered that the very few drugs that are active in the human central nervous system which turn out to be dangerous to the investigator at effective dosages, have usually given some preliminary warnings at threshold levels. If you intend to continue being a live, healthy investigator, you get to know those warning signals well, and immediately abandon further investigation of any drug that presents you with one or more of them. In my research, I am usually looking less for indications of danger than for signs that the new drug may have effects that are simply not useful or interesting to me.
For instance: if I'm trying a new drug at a low dosage level and find myself showing signs of hyper-reflexia, an over-sensitivity to ordinary stimuli - getting jumpy, in plain English - this could be a warning that the drug might, at higher levels, cause convulsions. Convulsants are used in animal research and have their legitimate role in medicine, but they just don't happen to be my cup of tea. A tendency to drift into reverie might be a warning sign; daydreaming is normal behavior when I'm tired or bored, but not when I've just taken a smidgin of a brand new drug and am watching for indications of activity. Or perhaps I become aware that I've been falling into brief episodes of sleep - micro-naps. Either of these signs could lead me to suspect that the drug might be a sedative-hypnotic or a narcotic. Such drugs certainly have their place in medicine, but - again - they're not what I'm looking for.
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