Peyote and the White Man’s Gin

Aldous Huxley reflects on drugs in 1958.

In the Brave New World of my fable there was no whisky, no tobacco, no illicit heroin, no bootlegged co­caine. People neither smoked, nor drank, nor sniffed, nor gave themselves injections. Whenever anyone felt depressed or below par, he would swallow a tablet or two of a chemical compound called soma....

In small doses it brought a sense of bliss, in larger doses it made you see visions and, if you took three tablets, you would sink in a few minutes into refreshing sleep. And all at no physiologi­cal or mental cost. The Brave New Worlders could take holidays from their black moods, or from the familiar annoyances of everyday life, without sacrificing their health or permanently reducing their efficiency....

But this most precious of the subjects' inalienable privileges was at the same time one of the most powerful instruments of rule in the dictator's armory. The systematic drugging of individuals for the benefit of the State (and inciden­tally, of course, for their own delight) was a main plank in the policy of the World Controllers. The daily soma ration was an insurance against personal malad­justment, social unrest and the spread of subversive ideas....

For example, the classical tranquillizer is opium. But opium is a dangerous drug which, from neolithic times down to the present day, has been making addicts and ruining health. The same is true of the classical euphoric, alco­hol -- the drug which, in the words of the Psalmist, "maketh glad the heart of man." But unfortunately alcohol not only maketh glad the heart of man; it also, in excessive doses, causes illness and addiction, and has been a main source, for the last eight or ten thou­sand years, of crime, domestic unhappiness, moral deg­radation and avoidable accidents....

Among the classical stimulants, tea, coffee and maté are, thank goodness, almost completely harmless. They are also very weak stimulants. Unlike these "cups that cheer but not inebriate," cocaine is a very powerful and a very dangerous drug. Those who make use of it must pay for their ecstasies, their sense of unlimited physical and mental power, by spells of agonizing depression, by such horrible physical symptoms as the sensation of being infested by myriads of crawling insects and by paranoid delusions that may lead to crimes of violence. Another stimulant of more recent vintage is amphetamine, better known under its trade name of Benzedrine. Amphetamine works very effec­tively -- but works, if abused, at the expense of mental and physical health. It has been reported that, in Ja­pan, there are now about one million amphetamine ad­dicts....

Of the classical vision-producers the best known are the peyote of Mexico and the southwestern United States and Cannabis sativa, consumed all over the world under such names as hashish, bhang, kif and marihuana. According to the best medical and anthro­pological evidence, peyote is far less harmful than the White Man's gin or whisky.

--From Aldous Huxley’s essay, "Chemical Persuasion," which appeared in Brave New World Revisited. Also cited in Moksha by Michael Horowitz and Cynthia Palmer.

Photo credit: http://therevealer.org 

Al Hubbard, the Johnny Appleseed of LSD

“The Original Capt. Trips.”

The scientists, therapists, and artists who experimented with LSD therapy in the late 1950s were not prepared for the likes of Timothy Leary, novelist Ken Kesey, poet Allen Ginsberg, and the assorted freaks, pranksters, con artists and runaways of the Woodstock Generation. Ken Kesey, in particular, delighted in stinging the Feds by insisting that it was Uncle Sam who first got him high, paying Kesey and others to take LSD, guinea pig-style, in certain government-funded research programs in Palo Alto and at Stanford University in the early 1960s.

It made a great story, and it happened to be true. However, the original chapter of the acid story began ten years earlier, when a former intelligence agent, rogue businessman, and general intellectual gadfly named Al Hubbard took his first LSD trip. Captain Alfred M. Hubbard, who has been dubbed the “Original Capt. Trips,” was part of a select cadre of World War II veterans who had been involved in creating intelligence institutions like the Office of Strategic Services and the CIA, and who had immersed themselves in cryptology and truth serums and interrogation drugs in the service of the war effort. (Thomas Pynchon caricatured some of this work in his novel, Gravity’s Rainbow.) Hubbard broke ranks with the intelligence community early on, but continued to share his clandestine stash of LSD with certain friends and acquaintances. This odd and extraordinary businessman is said to have arranged private LSD sessions in the late 1950s for scientists, captains of industry, members of the British parliament, UN representatives, prime ministers, and various artists. For a time, Al Hubbard settled in Vancouver, where he became Canada’s only legally licensed, FDA-approved importer of Sandoz LSD. In certain North American research circles, Al became a very popular man.

Hubbard is credited by various parties with being the man who put together the basics of the North American psychedelic therapy sessions and hippie acid tests to come—high doses of LSD, amplified music, strobe lights, and experiments with ESP. Along with Huxley, Hubbard came to believe that the more mystical or “transpersonal” experiences LSD sometimes afforded might hold considerable psychotherapeutic potential. With LSD provided by Hubbard, Canadians Abram Hoffer, Ross Mclean, and Humphrey Osmond pursued the idea of LSD as a treatment for alcoholism. In the U.S, research on LSD and alcoholism was undertaken by Oscar Janiger, Sanford Unger, and others on the West Coast.

Throughout this period, there were LSD clinics operating in England and Europe. European LSD therapists tended to use very low doses as an adjunct to traditional psychoanalytic techniques. But North American researchers took a different, bolder approach. When “psychedelic” therapy began to catch on in Canada and the United States, therapists typically gave patients only one or two sessions at very high doses. These early efforts were aimed at producing spontaneous breakthroughs or recoveries in alcoholics through some manner of religious epiphany or inner conversion experience. The only other quasi-medical approach of the day, the Schick Treatment Center’s brand of “aversion therapy,” was not seen to produce very compelling long-term recovery rates, and subsequently fell out of favor.

In this light, the early successes with LSD therapy, sometimes claimed to be in the 50-75 per cent range, looked noteworthy indeed. However, the design and criteria of the LSD/alcoholism studies varied so widely that it has never been possible to draw definitive conclusions about the work that was done, except to say that LSD therapy seemed to be strikingly effective for certain alcoholics. Some patients were claiming that two or three trips on LSD were worth years of conventional psychotherapy—a claim not heard again until the advent of Prozac thirty years later.

Adapted from The Chemical Carousel: What Science Tells Us About Beating Addiction by Dirk Hanson © 2008, 2009.

Photo Credit: http://www.declarepeace.org.uk/