of consciousness, thereby allowing us to make intellectual ground in otherwise intractable areas of human inquiry.
The Blind Eye of Science
The inadequacy of science in the study of entheogens is doubtless bound with the compartmentalization of science into separate disciplines. While it is rare for a scientist in any particular field to stray into another discipline, it can be argued that cross-boundary studies may be fruitful in initiating new insights and broader theories. In the case of entheogenic compounds, if we wish to properly understand the entire complex of the entheogenic experience—whether the experience of a native shaman or the experience of a Western experimenter—then a marriage must perforce be made between psychology, phenomenology, anthropology, and ethnobotany (and even metaphysics) since the subject area can embrace all these fields. If we bear in mind that disciplines like ethnobotany are relatively new anyway, the new discipline that I am envisaging is a distinct possibility. Waxing lyrical, I would call such an enterprise neo-shamanic phenomenology. At least it has an impressive ring to it.
But perhaps we assume that we already know all there is to know about the psychological modus operandi involved in the action of a classic entheogen like psilocybin? Perhaps a complete and satisfactory explanation of the visionary heights of the psilocybin experience has already been delivered by mainstream psychological science, reduced to a handy set of
Despite the dangers posed by the use of psychedelic substances—like their capacity to induce intense psychological terror (the so-called “bad trip”)—native cultures have managed to “tame” them through a learned appreciation of their scope of effect. Furthermore, these cultures have acquired a wealth of edifying knowledge along the way. Hence, it is my belief that entheogenic flora and fungi have yet to make their full impact on the Western psyche. The knowledge to be gained from their use relating to our conceptions of reality and our theories about consciousness will prove to be of great value not only on an individual level but on the collective level also. These are reasonable claims since we undoubtedly base our value systems and mass cultural behaviors on our tacit beliefs about the Earth, life, and our role in the whole caboodle. The alluring possibility with the psilocybin experience is that after initiation one can come to view life in a radically different light. One learns what shamans have always known, that Nature is somehow imbued with intelligence, or at least the characteristics of intelligence. The biosphere, or Gaia, suddenly appears to be
Given their uplifting and profoundly informative properties, psilocybin fungi can be viewed as a potentially symbiotic partner with our species. The symbiosis involves the new range of conception and perception galvanized into operation through the mushroom’s effects and, in return, our propagation of the species or at least action on our part that serves the biosphere’s overall interests in some way. In any case, psilocybin fungi, like other naturally occurring entheogens, are very much with us and here to stay. As far as we know, more people are familiar with the mushroom today than at any other time in history. Indeed, its use has continued to grow in popularity since the 1970s, when books first appeared detailing the various species that could be located in Europe and North America.
Notwithstanding the saturation of the entire globe in fungicides, restricted access to wilderness areas, or other madcap responses to the presence of psilocybin fungi, we have a choice as to whether to investigate the Earth’s alchemical skin further or to turn our backs for fear of the unknown. If we do decide to pick up the “entheogenic gauntlet,” we might well be rewarded with a cascade of novel insights into the deepest mysteries of being along with a vastly improved relationship with the rest of Nature. Official science can play a role in this noble venture as can independent research at the behest of no authority other than one’s own.
An Inner Revolution Awaits
With various species of psilocybin mushroom growing throughout most wild places of the world (more than one hundred species are now known to flourish across the globe), and bearing in mind their illuminating properties, with which more and more people are becoming familiar, one suspects that some innervating cultural alchemy is at hand. As we shall see in more detail later, paradigms—conceptual belief systems—crumble and are rebuilt in the wake of the psilocybin experience. This kind of paradigm shifting is not simply an event that transpires after ingestion of the mushroom; rather, the process can continue long after the original experience, almost as if some process of long-term digestive refinement was taking place. By this I mean that if we reflect on the experience in terms of how, say, the mushroom works chemically, then we gain exceptional knowledge about the underlying chemistry of the brain and the potential parameters of consciousness. And if we reflect on the self- knowledge that the mushroom affords, our inner lives may duly be improved. The very real possibility of perceptual enhancement is also at stake, potentially raising our dialogue with Nature to new levels never imagined by conventional science and philosophy.
It is through these new conceptual tools, or new improved lenses, to borrow from an earlier metaphor, that old paradigms will perforce be challenged. If these old paradigms cannot deal with the psychedelic experience, then they must either be adapted or be confined to the past. It is in this way that psilocybin and its effects can become integrated into our culture.
Psychedelic Science: Round Two
By now, the reader might assume that mainstream science only skirts around the issues we are most concerned with, that the only extant psychedelic research revolves around ethnobotany. Indeed, with America’s illegalization of LSD in 1966 and with the subsequent illegalization of almost all psychedelic drugs (Europe followed suit), human-based studies stopped dead. Everything on the experimental front went into cold storage. You could almost hear the bolts and locks sliding into place. Consciousness alteration had become a hostage to politics.
However, after all these years the locks have been surreptitiously picked and the politics of consciousness challenged. To be sure, a new kind of psychedelic research is gradually becoming apparent. This time around the scientists involved do not throw wild parties, nor do they exhort young people to “turn on, tune in, and drop out.” Dressed in traditional lab coats and sensible shoes, the second generation of psychedelic scientists have got their empirical act together. Human-based psychedelic science is now returning to the academic fold, only with far less publicity than fifty years ago and with a lot more caution and circumspection. This time around, science is taking it step by careful step.
Leading the resurgence are two American organizations: The Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), which I briefly mentioned in the last chapter, and the Heffter Research Institute (HRI). Founded in 1986, MAPS actively funds psychedelic research (as well as medical cannabis research) and helps scientists draw up their research protocols, a tough job when you have to approach notoriously conservative governmental agencies for permission to do your study. The HRI is a slightly younger organization, inaugurated in 1993 and named after Arthur Heffter, who, at the end of the nineteenth century, became the first scientist to isolate and systematically study a psychedelic compound from a plant—in this case mescaline from the peyote cactus. Of
