Long before the psychedelic era of Timothy Leary and the rise of the hippie kids who fell in love with LSD and other hallucinogens, America was ready to enter the acid mainstream.
Some families may have been enjoying meatloaf at their TVs, watching this lovely woman delve into her amazing journey. I wonder if they then switched to «Father Knows Best» or «The Perry Como Show»? One of historian Benjamin Breen's goals in his fascinating book Tripping on Utopia: Margaret Mead, the Cold War, and the Troubled Birth of Psychedelic Science (Grand Central) is to make this cultural moment, like an anonymous woman's televised journey, less absurd, if not less fascinating.
According to Breen, the austere atmosphere of the 1950s, rather than the free-spirited 1960s, assembled the ingredients, some of them toxic, for the first major cultural experiment with psychoactive substances.
The psychedelic boom of the 1960s had its roots in a rich and partially forgotten chapter before the hippie movement and before the War on Drugs closed that page. The previously mentioned story encompasses not only the CIA's infamous research into psychoactive drugs, but also a more optimistic and public dimension of improving lives through chemistry, supported by postwar scientific optimism and respect for expertise. «Timothy Leary and the baby boomers did not herald the first psychedelic era. They completed it» — Breen asserts.
Thus, the era we live in now is not the first time that LSD and other psychedelics were able to enter the mainstream. In the 1920s, psychedelics were already in the comfortable milieu of health culture, startup capitalism, and clinical research. Members of Generation X can just as easily try ayahuasca for a mid-life crisis or switch from Lexapro to microdoses of LSD as they once could head into the woods behind campus with friends after exams with a freezer bag of mushrooms.
Recent research suggests that psychedelics can help treat depression, ease end-of-life anxiety, and help with grief coping. Michael Pollan's 2018 bestselling book «How to Change Your Mind» had a significant impact on the resurgence of interest in hallucinogens, and scientific studies have identified what's known as the «Pollan effect» — the high expectations some study participants bring with them that can affect their accounts of their experiences.
The psychedelic boom of the 1960s had its roots in a rich and partially forgotten chapter before the hippie movement and before the War on Drugs closed that page. The previously mentioned story encompasses not only the CIA's infamous research into psychoactive drugs, but also a more optimistic and public dimension of improving lives through chemistry, supported by postwar scientific optimism and respect for expertise. «Timothy Leary and the baby boomers did not herald the first psychedelic era. They completed it» — Breen asserts.
Thus, the era we live in now is not the first time that LSD and other psychedelics were able to enter the mainstream. In the 1920s, psychedelics were already in the comfortable milieu of health culture, startup capitalism, and clinical research. Members of Generation X can just as easily try ayahuasca for a mid-life crisis or switch from Lexapro to microdoses of LSD as they once could head into the woods behind campus with friends after exams with a freezer bag of mushrooms.
Recent research suggests that psychedelics can help treat depression, ease end-of-life anxiety, and help with grief coping. Michael Pollan's 2018 bestselling book «How to Change Your Mind» had a significant impact on the resurgence of interest in hallucinogens, and scientific studies have identified what's known as the «Pollan effect» — the high expectations some study participants bring with them that can affect their accounts of their experiences.
In 2019, Denver became the first city in the U.S. to decriminalize psilocybin use, and in 2020, Oregon became the first state to legalize it for therapy. Several other places, including Santa Cruz, Detroit and Washington, D.C., have also supported similar initiatives. This year, the FDA will consider approving MDMA, known in street culture as ecstasy, for the treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder. Major pharmaceutical companies have also expressed interest in the process.
Thus, the modern psychedelic movement is infused with an energy focused less on free tripping and more on medical applications. But Breen, a professor at the University of California at Santa Cruz and author of a previous book on the global drug trade, notes that the sense of deja vu is very real. We've experienced this kind of thing — or versions of it — before. For those who have closely followed the winding cultural, legal, and scientific history of LSD, the outlines of this story will not be a revelation.
The CIA's MK-ULTRA program, which conducted covert mind control experiments using hypnosis and psychoactive drugs, has attracted the attention of many researchers since it was uncovered in the mid-1970s. (Recent examples include journalist Stephen Kinzer's book The Poisoner in Chief: Sidney Gottlieb and the CIA's Search for a Mind Control Method, and Errol Morris's documentary about Frank Olson, the scientist who died in 1953 after being secretly injected with LSD).
Nevertheless, Breen delves deeper into this complex story. First, he singles out anthropologists Margaret Mead and her third husband Gregory Bateson as protagonists, which may surprise. (Indeed, they rarely appear in previous narratives about psychedelics.) They are presented as spiritual mentors in this compelling story because of their shared view of science as a tool for expanding human consciousness.
Thus, the modern psychedelic movement is infused with an energy focused less on free tripping and more on medical applications. But Breen, a professor at the University of California at Santa Cruz and author of a previous book on the global drug trade, notes that the sense of deja vu is very real. We've experienced this kind of thing — or versions of it — before. For those who have closely followed the winding cultural, legal, and scientific history of LSD, the outlines of this story will not be a revelation.
The CIA's MK-ULTRA program, which conducted covert mind control experiments using hypnosis and psychoactive drugs, has attracted the attention of many researchers since it was uncovered in the mid-1970s. (Recent examples include journalist Stephen Kinzer's book The Poisoner in Chief: Sidney Gottlieb and the CIA's Search for a Mind Control Method, and Errol Morris's documentary about Frank Olson, the scientist who died in 1953 after being secretly injected with LSD).
Nevertheless, Breen delves deeper into this complex story. First, he singles out anthropologists Margaret Mead and her third husband Gregory Bateson as protagonists, which may surprise. (Indeed, they rarely appear in previous narratives about psychedelics.) They are presented as spiritual mentors in this compelling story because of their shared view of science as a tool for expanding human consciousness.
Mead, for example, believed it was important that, as she wrote, we «achieve an awareness that will give us new control over our human destiny» and «learn to consciously create civilizations in which more and more people become aware of more of who they should be».
In 1955, five years after her divorce from Bateson, Mead began a relationship with anthropologist Rod Metro, and they lived together for the next twenty years. Mead had close ties to the CIA and other government agencies; she had access to classified information and was a widely recognized scholar. She was probably worried about the risk of revealing her bisexuality.
Bateson, an anthropologist who specialized in systems theory and cybernetics, served in the USS, the predecessor to the CIA, during World War II, where he worked on propaganda projects in Burma. His work put him in contact with intelligence officers interested in the military use of psychoactive substances. He and Mead kept in touch with these shadowy figures and with a wider circle of researchers who met regularly at conferences sponsored by the Josiah Macy Foundation on the topics of neuroscience, cybernetics, and hallucinogens.
In 1959, Bateson organized poet Allen Ginsberg's first psychedelic trip to a laboratory near Palo Alto. Ginsberg later wrote to his father about his experiences, describing the trance-like state and visions he experienced. He even convinced his father to try it himself. Bateson also worked with marine researcher John Lilly, who experimented with LSD on dolphins, although that project ended tragically.
Both Bateson and Mead were involved with the dark side of what Breen calls the «psychedelic Cold War». Despite their closeness to the MK-ULTRA, they remain sympathetic figures in the book because of their open interest in cultural differences and devotion to facts. Unlike Timothy Leary, who saw homosexuality as a pathology that could be «cured» with LSD, Mead advocated recognizing the diversity of human potential. She actively challenged stereotypes associated with gender and sexuality, and in 1961 appeared on the television program «Outliers», where she challenged preconceived notions.
Bateson, for his part, felt the pressure of family expectations all his life. He was one of three sons of the eminent biologist William Bateson, who hoped all three would become great scientists. Both of his brothers passed away at a young age, making it difficult for him to pursue scientific achievement. Breen describes how this pressure led Bateson to various setbacks, including misinterpretations of family dynamics theory and failed experiments with Lilly. Nevertheless, Bateson also displayed remarkable insight.
At a 1967 conference in London to discuss important social issues, Bateson gave a speech on global warming, one of the first times climate change was discussed in a large audience. He observed that people seek «shortcuts to wisdom» through LSD, but given the environmental challenges we face, he understood this impulse.
For many who tried psychedelics, they promised not only to solve clinical problems but also to open the doors of perception to some hidden realm. After taking a small dose of LSD, Huxley described his experience as «a realization-not knowledge, for it was not verbal or abstract, but a direct, full awareness of the inner world, a kind of Love as a basic cosmic fact».
Nevertheless, some people experienced fear during their trips, plunging into apocalyptic visions. The dissolution of the ego that often occurred under the influence of LSD, a condition the CIA planned to use in interrogations, could be frightening. However, many volunteers reported feelings of deep happiness and a beauty they could not compare to anything else.
In 1959, Cary Grant admitted in an interview that he had experienced LSD. «All sadness and vanity were ripped away» — he said. «I was delighted to discover inner strength». During his seventieth trip, Grant jokingly mused about spaceflight and the Hegelian dialectic: «Everything creates its opposite, and therefore cycles itself».
Claire Booth Luce, former Republican congresswoman and ambassador, and wife of tycoon Henry Luce, became a fan of LSD, using it to ease depression and grief after losing her daughter in a car accident. She was an influential figure: after her first dose, she had to turn down a phone call from Vice President Richard Nixon, who sought political advice from her.
By the mid-sixties, however, LSD had acquired a new reputation and became associated with utopia. One of its chief defenders was Terence McKenna, who founded the Harvard Psilocybin Project in 1960. In a 1967 debate with neuroscientist Jerome Lettvin, McKenna argued that «the true purpose of a scientist is to go mad». LSD, divorced from its medical roots and ties to authority, found a strong connection to the hippie youth movement, making it more vulnerable to moral panic and political repression. By the end of 1967, several states had banned psychedelics, and in 1970 Congress classified them as Schedule I drugs, which meant no medical use and a high risk of abuse. In 1971, President Nixon declared war on drugs, including LSD, a substance once considered a promising psychiatric treatment.
It is important to remember that psychedelics have had a respected and scientifically approved past. Today, there is a lot of enthusiastic media coverage of psychedelics like LSD and psilocybin, as well as newer substances like MDMA, emphasizing their use in mental health. Research suggests that they may help some people with treatment-resistant depression and other disorders. Since they pose little risk of addiction, and depression and anxiety are on the rise, such a focus seems justified.
Claire Booth Luce, former Republican congresswoman and ambassador, and wife of tycoon Henry Luce, became a fan of LSD, using it to ease depression and grief after losing her daughter in a car accident. She was an influential figure: after her first dose, she had to turn down a phone call from Vice President Richard Nixon, who sought political advice from her.
By the mid-sixties, however, LSD had acquired a new reputation and became associated with utopia. One of its chief defenders was Terence McKenna, who founded the Harvard Psilocybin Project in 1960. In a 1967 debate with neuroscientist Jerome Lettvin, McKenna argued that «the true purpose of a scientist is to go mad». LSD, divorced from its medical roots and ties to authority, found a strong connection to the hippie youth movement, making it more vulnerable to moral panic and political repression. By the end of 1967, several states had banned psychedelics, and in 1970 Congress classified them as Schedule I drugs, which meant no medical use and a high risk of abuse. In 1971, President Nixon declared war on drugs, including LSD, a substance once considered a promising psychiatric treatment.
It is important to remember that psychedelics have had a respected and scientifically approved past. Today, there is a lot of enthusiastic media coverage of psychedelics like LSD and psilocybin, as well as newer substances like MDMA, emphasizing their use in mental health. Research suggests that they may help some people with treatment-resistant depression and other disorders. Since they pose little risk of addiction, and depression and anxiety are on the rise, such a focus seems justified.
More broadly, psychedelics may be associated with well-being, serving as a kind of targeted hygiene that can be practiced through silent retreats, mindful eating, or yoga. It is worth remembering, however, that LSD was never fully medicated, even in the era of early scientific research.
Psychologist Betty Eisner, one of the important contributors to the field, emphasized the importance of «setting and environment» to psychedelic therapy. Her emphasis on soft lighting, comfortable furniture, and the right music laid the foundations for modern protocols. Her own approach, however, became increasingly mystical. In 1964, she wrote to a colleague about «material» discovered during her travels that she thought «came from past lives».
In short, psychedelics have never been and never will be conventional pharmaceutical drugs. «Although attempts to introduce psychedelics as FDA-approved therapies continue, it is doubtful that they can be classified as 'prescription drugs' because of their varied uses», Brin noted in an essay for the Washington Post. But they are unlikely to return to the status of modern accessories for achieving spiritual trance, as in shamanic practices. Because psychedelics can evoke both medical interventions and spiritual pursuits, we may need new categories for understanding them.
What is noticeable in Breen's book is the optimism of the scientists he writes about, including Mead, who believed that psychedelics could help heal cultural divides and advance the evolution of civilizations. It's hard to replicate such optimism today, given the lack of trust in science, government, and pharmaceutical companies. But perhaps there is hope for a more sensible approach to the issues surrounding psychedelics.
Psychologist Betty Eisner, one of the important contributors to the field, emphasized the importance of «setting and environment» to psychedelic therapy. Her emphasis on soft lighting, comfortable furniture, and the right music laid the foundations for modern protocols. Her own approach, however, became increasingly mystical. In 1964, she wrote to a colleague about «material» discovered during her travels that she thought «came from past lives».
In short, psychedelics have never been and never will be conventional pharmaceutical drugs. «Although attempts to introduce psychedelics as FDA-approved therapies continue, it is doubtful that they can be classified as 'prescription drugs' because of their varied uses», Brin noted in an essay for the Washington Post. But they are unlikely to return to the status of modern accessories for achieving spiritual trance, as in shamanic practices. Because psychedelics can evoke both medical interventions and spiritual pursuits, we may need new categories for understanding them.
What is noticeable in Breen's book is the optimism of the scientists he writes about, including Mead, who believed that psychedelics could help heal cultural divides and advance the evolution of civilizations. It's hard to replicate such optimism today, given the lack of trust in science, government, and pharmaceutical companies. But perhaps there is hope for a more sensible approach to the issues surrounding psychedelics.
When reading about modern LSD studies, we must be cautious. Many of them involve small numbers of carefully selected subjects. It is difficult to conduct such double-blind studies, as participants taking a placebo may assume that they did not receive the active substance.
In a recent article, psychologists from Leiden University described more than a dozen «pressing problems» in current psychedelic research, including conflicts of interest and flaws in reporting side effects. However, they emphasize the need to increase the rigor and validity of research so that psychedelic therapy can be a useful tool for certain patient populations.
In 1966, Sidney Cohen, a colleague of Eisner's, expressed fears that psychedelic research had lost its way and called for a more cautious approach to gradually demonstrate the drug's beneficial properties. Perhaps we now know enough to proceed with research with tested hope, without risking a drug war reaction or promising utopia, but opening up the prospect of useful applications of psychedelics.
In a recent article, psychologists from Leiden University described more than a dozen «pressing problems» in current psychedelic research, including conflicts of interest and flaws in reporting side effects. However, they emphasize the need to increase the rigor and validity of research so that psychedelic therapy can be a useful tool for certain patient populations.
In 1966, Sidney Cohen, a colleague of Eisner's, expressed fears that psychedelic research had lost its way and called for a more cautious approach to gradually demonstrate the drug's beneficial properties. Perhaps we now know enough to proceed with research with tested hope, without risking a drug war reaction or promising utopia, but opening up the prospect of useful applications of psychedelics.