Painting by Yvonne McGillivray

Abstract

In light of recent specific liberalizations in drug laws in some countries, this article investigates the potential of entheogens (i.e. psychoactive plants used as spiritual sacraments) as tools to facilitate existential intelligence. “Plant teachers” from the Americas such as ayahuasca, psilocybin mushrooms, peyote, and the Indo-Aryan soma of Eurasia are examples of both past- and presently-used entheogens. These have all been revered as spiritual or cognitive tools to provide a richer cosmological understanding of the world for both human individuals and cultures. I use Howard Gardner’s (1999a) revised multiple intelligence theory and his postulation of an “existential” intelligence as a theoretical lens through which to account for the cognitive possibilities of entheogens and explore potential ramifications for education.

Introduction

In this article I assess and further develop the possibility of an “existential” intelligence as postulated by Howard Gardner (1999a). Moreover, I entertain the possibility that some kinds of psychoactive substances—entheogens—have the potential to facilitate this kind of intelligence. This issue arises from the recent liberalization of drug laws in several Western industrialized countries to allow for the sacramental use of ayahuasca, a psychoactive tea brewed from plants indigenous to the Amazon. I challenge readers to step outside a long-standing dominant paradigm in modern Western culture that a priori regards “hallucinogenic” drug use as necessarily maleficent and devoid of any merit. I intend for my discussion to confront assumptions about drugs that have unjustly perpetuated the disparagement and prohibition of some kinds of psychoactive substance use. More broadly, I intend for it to challenge assumptions about intelligence that constrain contemporary educational thought.

“Entheogen” is a word coined by scholars proposing to replace the term “psychedelic” (Ruck, Bigwood, Staples, Ott, & Wasson, 1979), which was felt to overly connote psychological and clinical paradigms and to be too socio-culturally loaded from its 1960s roots to appropriately designate the revered plants and substances used in traditional rituals. I use both terms in this article: “entheogen” when referring to a substance used as a spiritual or sacramental tool, and “psychedelic” when referring to one used for any number of purposes during or following the so-called psychedelic era of the 1960s (recognizing that some contemporary non-indigenous uses may be entheogenic—the categories are by no means clearly discreet). What kinds of plants or chemicals fall into the category of entheogen is a matter of debate, as a large number of inebriants—from coca and marijuana to alcohol and opium—have been venerated as gifts from the gods (or God) in different cultures at different times. For the purposes of this article, however, I focus on the class of drugs that Lewin (1924/1997) termed “phantastica,” a name deriving from the Greek word for the faculty of imagination (Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, 1973). Later these substances became known as hallucinogens or psychedelics, a class whose members include lysergic acid derivatives, psilocybin, mescaline and dimethyltryptamine. With the exception of mescaline, these all share similar chemical structures; all, including mescaline, produce similar phenomenological effects; and, more importantly for the present discussion, all have a history of ritual use as psychospiritual medicines or, as I argue, cultural tools to facilitate cognition (Schultes & Hofmann, 1992).

The issue of entheogen use in modern Western culture becomes more significant in light of several legal precedents in countries such as Brazil, Holland, Spain and soon perhaps the United States and Canada. Ayahuasca, which I discuss in more detail in the following section on “plant teachers,” was legalized for religious use by non-indigenous people in Brazil in 1987i. One Brazilian group, the Santo Daime, was using its sacrament in ceremonies in the Netherlands when, in the autumn of 1999, authorities intervened and arrested its leaders. This was the first case of religious intolerance by a Dutch government in over three hundred years. A subsequent legal challenge, based on European Union religious freedom laws, saw them acquitted of all charges, setting a precedent for the rest of Europe (Adelaars, 2001). A similar case in Spain resulted in the Spanish government granting the right to use ayahuasca in that country. A recent court decision in the United States by the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals, September 4th, 2003, ruled in favour of religious freedom to use ayahuasca (Center for Cognitive Liberty and Ethics, 2003). And in Canada, an application to Health Canada and the Department of Justice for exemption to the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act is pending, which may permit the Santo Daime Church the religious use of their sacrament, known as Daime or Santo Daimeii (J.W. Rochester, personal communication, October 8th, 2003)

One of the questions raised by this trend of liberalization in otherwise prohibitionist regulatory regimes is what benefits substances such as ayahuasca have. The discussion that follows takes up this question with respect to contemporary psychological theories about intelligence and touches on potential ramifications for education. The next section examines the metaphor of “plant teachers,” which is not uncommon among cultures that have traditionally practiced the entheogenic use of plants. Following that, I use Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences (1983) as a theoretical framework with which to account for cognitive implications of entheogen use. Finally, I take up a discussion of possible relevance of existential intelligence and entheogens to education.

Plant Teachers

Before moving on to a broader discussion of intelligence(s), I will provide some background on ayahuasca and entheogens. Ayahuasca has been a revered “plant teacher” among dozens of South American indigenous peoples for centuries, if not longer (Luna, 1984; Schultes & Hofmann, 1992). The word ayahuasca is from the Quechua language of indigenous peoples of Ecuador and Peru, and translates as “vine of the soul” (Metzner, 1999). Typically, it refers to a tea made from a jungle liana, Banisteriopsis caapi, with admixtures of other plants, but most commonly the leaves of a plant from the coffee family, Psychotria viridis (McKenna, 1999). These two plants respectively contain harmala alkaloids and dimethyltryptamine, two substances that when ingested orally create a biochemical synergy capable of producing profound alterations in consciousness (Grob, et al., 1996; McKenna, Towers & Abbot, 1984). Among the indigenous peoples of the Amazon, ayahuasca is one of the most valuable medicinal and sacramental plants in their pharmacopoeias. Although shamans in different tribes use the tea for various purposes, and have varying recipes for it, the application of ayahuasca as an effective tool to attain understanding and wisdom is one of the most prevalent (Brown, 1986; Dobkin de Rios, 1984).

Notwithstanding the explosion of popular interest in psychoactive drugs during the 1960s, ayahuasca until quite recently managed to remain relatively obscure in Western cultureiii. However, the late 20th century saw the growth of religious movements among non-indigenous people in Brazil syncretizing the use of ayahuasca with Christian symbolism, African spiritualism, and native ritual. Two of the more widespread ayahuasca churches are the Santo Daime (Santo Daime, 2004) and the União do Vegetal (União do Vegetal, 2004). These organizations have in the past few decades gained legitimacy as valid, indeed valuable, spiritual practices providing social, psychological and spiritual benefits (Grob, 1999; Riba, et al., 2001).

Ayahuasca is not the only “plant teacher” in the pantheon of entheogenic tools. Other indigenous peoples of the Americas have used psilocybin mushrooms for millennia for spiritual and healing purposes (Dobkin de Rios, 1973; Wasson, 1980). Similarly, the peyote cactus has a long history of use by Mexican indigenous groups (Fikes, 1996; Myerhoff, 1974; Stewart, 1987), and is currently widely used in the United States by the Native American Church (LaBarre, 1989; Smith & Snake, 1996). And even in the early history of Western culture, the ancient Indo-Aryan texts of the Rig Veda sing the praises of the deified Soma (Pande, 1984). Although the taxonomic identity of Soma is lost, it seems to have been a plant or mushroom and had the power to reliably induce mystical experiences—an “entheogen” par excellence (Eliade, 1978; Wasson, 1968). The variety of entheogens extends far beyond the limited examples I have offered here. However, ayahuasca, psilocybin mushrooms, peyote and Soma are exemplars of plants which have been culturally esteemed for their psychological and spiritual impacts on both individuals and communities.

In this article I argue that the importance of entheogens lies in their role as tools, as mediators between mind and environment. Defining a psychoactive drug as a tool—perhaps a novel concept for some—invokes its capacity to effect a purposeful change on the mind/body. Commenting on Vygotsky’s notions of psychological tools, John-Steiner and Souberman (1978) note that “tool use has . . . important effects upon internal and functional relationships within the human brain” (p. 133). Although they were likely not thinking of drugs as tools, the significance of this observation becomes even more literal when the tools in question are plants or chemicals ingested with the intent of affecting consciousness through the manipulation of brain chemistry. Indeed, psychoactive plants or chemicals seem to defy the traditional bifurcation between physical and psychological tools, as they affect the mind/body (understood by modern psychologists to be identical).

It is important to consider the degree to which the potential of entheogens comes not only from their immediate neuropsychological effects, but also from the social practices—rituals—into which their use has traditionally been incorporated (Dobkin de Rios, 1996; Smith, 2000). The protective value that ritual provides for entheogen use is evident from its universal application in traditional practices (Weil, 1972/1986). Medical evidence suggests that there are minimal physiological risks associated with psychedelic drugs (Callaway, et al., 1999; Grinspoon & Bakalar, 1979/1998; Julien, 1998). Albert Hofmann (1980), the chemist who first accidentally synthesized and ingested LSD, contends that the psychological risks associated with psychedelics in modern Western culture are a function of their recreational use in unsafe circumstances. A ritual context, however, offers psychospiritual safeguards that make the potential of entheogenic “plant teachers” to enhance cognition an intriguing possibility.

Existential Intelligence

Howard Gardner (1983) developed a theory of multiple intelligences that originally postulated seven types of intelligence (iv). Since then, he has added a “naturalist” intelligence and entertained the possibility of a “spiritual” intelligence (1999a; 1999b). Not wanting to delve too far into territory fraught with theological pitfalls, Gardner (1999a) settled on looking at “existential” intelligence rather than “spiritual” intelligence (p. 123). Existential intelligence, as Gardner characterizes it, involves having a heightened capacity to appreciate and attend to the cosmological enigmas that define the human condition, an exceptional awareness of the metaphysical, ontological and epistemological mysteries that have been a perennial concern for people of all cultures (1999a).

In his original formulation of the theory, Gardner challenges (narrow) mainstream definitions of intelligence with a broader one that sees intelligence as “the ability to solve problems or to fashion products that are valued in at least one culture or community” (1999a, p. 113). He lays out eight criteria, or “signs,” that he argues should be used to identify an intelligence; however, he notes that these do not constitute necessary conditions for determining an intelligence, merely desiderata that a candidate intelligence should meet (1983, p. 62). He also admits that none of his original seven intelligences fulfilled all the criteria, although they all met a majority of the eight. For existential intelligence, Gardner himself identifies six which it seems to meet; I will look at each of these and discuss their merits in relation to entheogens.

One criterion applicable to existential intelligence is the identification of a neural substrate to which the intelligence may correlate. Gardner (1999a) notes that recent neuropsychological evidence supports the hypothesis that the brain’s temporal lobe plays a key role in producing mystical states of consciousness and spiritual awareness (p. 124-5; LaPlante, 1993; Newberg, D’Aquili & Rause, 2001). He also recognizes that “certain brain centres and neural transmitters are mobilized in [altered consciousness] states, whether they are induced by the ingestion of substances or by a control of the will” (Gardner, 1999a, p.125). Another possibility, which Gardner does not explore, is that endogenous dimethyltryptamine (DMT) in humans may play a significant role in the production of spontaneous or induced altered states of consciousness (Pert, 2001). DMT is a powerful entheogenic substance that exists naturally in the mammalian brain (Barker, Monti & Christian, 1981), as well as being a common constituent of ayahuasca and the Amazonian snuff, yopo (Ott, 1994). Furthermore, DMT is a close analogue of the neurotransmitter 5-hydroxytryptamine, or serotonin. It has been known for decades that the primary neuropharmacological action of psychedelics has been on serotonin systems, and serotonin is now understood to be correlated with healthy modes of consciousness.

One psychiatric researcher has recently hypothesized that endogenous DMT stimulates the pineal gland to create such spontaneous psychedelic states as near-death experiences (Strassman, 2001). Whether this is correct or not, the role of DMT in the brain is an area of empirical research that deserves much more attention, especially insofar as it may contribute to an evidential foundation for existential intelligence.

Another criterion for an intelligence is the existence of individuals of exceptional ability within the domain of that intelligence. Unfortunately, existential precocity is not something sufficiently valued in modern Western culture to the degree that savants in this domain are commonly celebrated today. Gardner (1999a) observes that within Tibetan Buddhism, the choosing of lamas may involve the detection of a predisposition to existential intellect (if it is not identifying the reincarnation of a previous lama, as Tibetan Buddhists themselves believe) (p. 124). Gardner also cites Czikszentmilhalyi’s consideration of the “early-emerging concerns for cosmic issues of the sort reported in the childhoods of future religious leaders like Gandhi and of several future physicists” (Gardner, 1999a, p. 124; Czikszentmilhalyi, 1996). Presumably, some individuals who are enjoined to enter a monastery or nunnery at a young age may be so directed due to an appreciable manifestation of existential awareness. Likewise, individuals from indigenous cultures who take up shamanic practice—who “have abilities beyond others to dream, to imagine, to enter states of trance” (Larsen, 1976, p. 9)—often do so because of a significant interest in cosmological concerns at a young age, which could be construed as a prodigious capacity in the domain of existential intelligencev (Eliade, 1964; Greeley, 1974; Halifax, 1979).

The third criterion for determining an intelligence that Gardner suggests is an identifiable set of core operational abilities that manifest that intelligence. Gardner finds this relatively unproblematic and articulates the core operations for existential intelligence as:

the capacity to locate oneself with respect to the farthest reaches of the cosmos—the infinite no less than the infinitesimal—and the related capacity to locate oneself with respect to the most existential aspects of the human condition: the significance of life, the meaning of death, the ultimate fate of the physical and psychological worlds, such profound experiences as love of another human being or total immersion in a work of art. (1999a, p. 123)

Gardner notes that as with other more readily accepted types of intelligence, there is no specific truth that one would attain with existential intelligence—for example, as musical intelligence does not have to manifest itself in any specific genre or category of music, neither does existential intelligence privilege any one philosophical system or spiritual doctrine. As Gardner (1999a) puts it, “there exists [with existential intelligence] a species potential—or capacity—to engage in transcendental concerns that can be aroused and deployed under certain circumstances” (p. 123). Reports on uses of psychedelics by Westerners in the 1950s and early 1960s—generated prior to their prohibition and, some might say, profanation—reveal a recurrent theme of spontaneous mystical experiences that are consistent with enhanced capacity of existential intelligence (Huxley, 1954/1971; Masters & Houston, 1966; Pahnke, 1970; Smith, 1964; Watts, 1958/1969).

Another criterion for admitting an intelligence is identifying a developmental history and a set of expert “end-state” performances for it. Pertaining to existential intelligence, Gardner notes that all cultures have devised spiritual or metaphysical systems to deal with the inherent human capacity for existential issues, and further that these respective systems invariably have steps or levels of sophistication separating the novice from the adept. He uses the example of Pope John XXIII’s description of his training to advance up the ecclesiastic hierarchy as a contemporary illustration of this point (1999a, p. 124). However, the instruction of the neophyte is a manifest part of almost all spiritual training and, again, the demanding process of imparting of shamanic wisdom—often including how to effectively and appropriately use entheogens—is an excellent example of this process in indigenous cultures (Eliade, 1964).

A fifth criterion Gardner suggests for an intelligence is determining its evolutionary history and evolutionary plausibility. The self-reflexive question of when and why existential intelligence first arose in the Homo genus is one of the perennial existential questions of humankind. That it is an exclusively human trait is almost axiomatic, although a small but increasing number of researchers are willing to admit the possibility of higher forms of cognition in non-human animals (Masson & McCarthy, 1995; Vonk, 2003). Gardner (1999a) argues that only by the Upper Paleolithic period did “human beings within a culture possess a brain capable of considering the cosmological issues central to existential intelligence” (p. 124) and that the development of a capacity for existential thinking may be linked to “a conscious sense of finite space and irreversible time, two promising loci for stimulating imaginative explorations of transcendental spheres” (p. 124). He also suggests that “thoughts about existential issues may well have evolved as responses to necessarily occurring pain, perhaps as a way of reducing pain or better equipping individuals to cope with it” (Gardner, 1999a, p. 125). As with determining the evolutionary origin of language, tracing a phylogenesis of existential intelligence is conjectural at best. Its role in the development of the species is equally difficult to assess, although Winkelman (2000) argues that consciousness and shamanic practices—and presumably existential intelligence as well—stem from psychobiological adaptations integrating older and more recently evolved structures in the triune hominid brain. McKenna (1992) goes even so far as to postulate that the ingestion of psychoactive substances such as entheogenic mushrooms may have helped stimulate cognitive developments such as existential and linguistic thinking in our proto-human ancestors. Some researchers in the 1950s and 1960s found enhanced creativity and problem-solving skills among subjects given LSD and other psychedelic drugs (Harman, McKim, Mogar, Fadiman & Stolaroff, 1966; Izumi, 1970; Krippner, 1985; Stafford & Golightly, 1967), skills which certainly would have been evolutionarily advantageous to our hominid ancestors. Such avenues of investigation are beginning to be broached again by both academic scholars and amateur psychonauts (Dobkin de Rios & Janiger, 2003; Spitzer, et al., 1996; MAPS Bulletin, 2000).

The final criterion Gardner mentions as applicable to existential intelligence is susceptibility to encoding in a symbol system. Here, again, Gardner concedes that there is abundant evidence in favour of accepting existential thinking as an intelligence. In his words, “many of the most important and most enduring sets of symbol systems (e.g., those featured in the Catholic liturgy) represent crystallizations of key ideas and experiences that have evolved within [cultural] institutions” (1999a, p. 123). Another salient example that illustrates this point is the mytho-symbolism ascribed to ayahuasca visions among the Tukano, an Amazonian indigenous people. Reichel-Dolmatoff (1975) made a detailed study of these visions by asking a variety of informants to draw representations with sticks in the dirt (p. 174). He compiled twenty common motifs, observing that most of them bear a striking resemblance to phosphene patterns (i.e. visual phenomena perceived in the absence of external stimuli or by applying light pressure to the eyeball) compiled by Max Knoll (Oster, 1970). The Tukano interpret these universal human neuropsychological phenomena as symbolically significant according to their traditional ayahuasca-steeped mythology, reflecting the codification of existential ideas within their culture.

Narby (1998) also examines the codification of symbols generated during ayahuasca experiences by tracing similarities between intertwining snake motifs in the visions of Amazonian shamans and the double-helix structure of deoxyribonucleic acid. He found remarkable similarities between representations of biological knowledge by indigenous shamans and those of modern geneticists. More recently, Narby (2002) has followed up on this work by bringing molecular biologists to the Amazon to participate in ayahuasca ceremonies with experiences shamans, an endeavour he suggests may provide useful cross-fertilization in divergent realms of human knowledge.

The two other criteria of an intelligence are support from experimental psychological tasks and support from psychometric findings. Gardner suggests that existential intelligence is more debatable within these domains, citing personality inventories that attempt to measure religiosity or spirituality; he notes, “it remains unclear just what is being probed by such instruments and whether self-report is a reliable index of existential intelligence” (1999a, p. 125). It seems transcendental states of consciousness and the cognition they engender do not lend themselves to quantification or easy replication in psychology laboratories. However, Strassman, Qualls, Uhlenhuth, & Kellner (1994) developed a psychometric instrument—the Hallucinogen Rating Scale—to measure human responses to intravenous administration of DMT, and it has since been reliably used for other psychedelic experiences (Riba, Rodriguez-Fornells, Strassman, & Barbanoj, 2001).

One historical area of empirical psychological research that did ostensibly stimulate a form of what might be considered existential intelligence was clinical investigations into psychedelics. Until such research became academically unfashionable and then politically impossible in the early 1970s, psychologists and clinical researchers actively explored experimentally-induced transcendent experiences using drugs in the interests of both pure science and applied medical treatments (Abramson, 1967; Cohen, 1964; Grinspoon & Bakalar, 1979/1998; Masters & Houston, 1966). One of the more famous of these was Pahnke’s (1970) so-called “Good Friday” experiment, which attempted to induce spiritual experiences with psilocybin within a randomized double-blind control methodology. His conclusion that mystical experiences were indeed reliably produced, despite methodological problems with the study design, was borne out by a critical long-term follow-up (Doblin, 1991), which raises intriguing questions about both entheogens and existential intelligence.

Studies such as Pahnke’s (1970), despite their promise, were prematurely terminated due to public pressure from a populace alarmed by burgeoning contemporary recreational drug use. Only about a decade ago did the United States government give researchers permission to renew (on a very small scale) investigations into psychedelics (Strassman 2001; Strassman & Qualls, 1994). Cognitive psychologists are also taking an interest in entheogens such as ayahuasca (Shanon, 2002). Regardless of whether support for existential intelligence can be established psychometrically or in experimental psychological tasks, Gardner’s theory expressly stipulates that not all eight criteria must be uniformly met in order for an intelligence to qualify. Nevertheless, Gardner claims to “find the phenomenon perplexing enough, and the distance from other intelligences great enough” (1999a, p. 127) to be reluctant “at present to add existential intelligence to the list . . . . At most [he is] willing, Fellini-style, to joke about ‘8½ intelligences’” (p. 127). I contend that research into entheogens and other means of altering consciousness will further support the case for treating existential intelligence as a valid cognitive domain.

Educational Implications?

By recapitulating and augmenting Gardner’s discussion of existential intelligence, I hope to have strengthened the case for its inclusion as a valid cognitive domain. However, doing so raises questions of what ramifications an acceptance of existential intelligence would have for contemporary Western educational theory and practice. How might we foster this hitherto neglected intelligence and allow it to be used in constructive ways? There is likely a range of educational practices that could be used to stimulate cognition in this domain, many of which could be readily implemented without much controversy.vi Yet I intentionally raise the prospect of using entheogens in this capacity—not with young children, but perhaps with older teens in the passage to adulthood—to challenge theorists, policy-makers and practitioners.vii

The potential of entheogens as tools for education in contemporary Western culture was identified by Aldous Huxley. Although better known as a novelist than as a philosopher of education, Huxley spent a considerable amount of time—particularly as he neared the end of his life—addressing the topic of education. Like much of his literature, Huxley’s observations and critiques of the socio-cultural forces at work in his time were cannily prescient; they bear as much, if not more, relevance in the 21st century as when they were written. Most remarkably, and relevant to my thesis, Huxley saw entheogens as possible educational tools:

Under the current dispensation the vast majority of individuals lose, in the course of education, all the openness to inspiration, all the capacity to be aware of other things than those enumerated in the Sears-Roebuck catalogue which constitutes the conventionally “real” world . . . . Is it too much to hope that a system of education may some day be devised, which shall give results, in terms of human development, commensurate with the time, money, energy and devotion expended? In such a system of education it may be that mescalin or some other chemical substance may play a part by making it possible for young people to “taste and see” what they have learned about at second hand . . . in the writings of the religious, or the works of poets, painters and musicians. (Letter to Dr. Humphrey Osmond, April 10th, 1953—in Horowitz & Palmer, 1999, p.30)

In a more literary expression of this notion, Huxley’s final novel Island (1962) portrays an ideal culture that has achieved a balance of scientific and spiritual thinking, and which also incorporates the ritualized use of entheogens for education. The representation of drug use that Huxley portrays in Island contrasts markedly with the more widely-known soma of his earlier novel, Brave New World (1932/1946): whereas soma was a pacifier that muted curiosity and served the interests of the controlling elite, the entheogenic “moksha medicine” of Island offered liminal experiences in young adults that stimulated profound reflection, self-actualization and, I submit, existential intelligence.

Huxley’s writings point to an implicit recognition of the capacity of entheogens to be used as educational “tools”. The concept of tool here refers not merely the physical devices fashioned to aid material production, but, following Vygotsky (1978), more broadly to those means of symbolic and/or cultural mediation between the mind and the world (Cole, 1996; Wertsch, 1991). Of course, deriving educational benefit from a tool requires much more than simply having and wielding it; one must also have an intrinsic respect for the object qua tool, a cultural system in which the tool is valued as such, and guides or teachers who are adept at using the tool to provide helpful direction. As Larsen (1976) remarks in discussing the phenomenon of would-be “shamans” in Western culture experimenting with mind-altering chemicals: “we have no symbolic vocabulary, no grounded mythological tradition to make our experiences comprehensible to us . . . no senior shamans to help ensure that our [shamanic experience of] dismemberment be followed by a rebirth” (p. 81). Given the recent history of these substances in modern Western culture, it is hardly surprising that they have been demonized (Hofmann, 1980). However, cultural practices that have traditionally used entheogens as therapeutic agents consistently incorporate protective safeguards—set, settingviii, established dosages, and mythocultural respect (Zinberg, 1984). The fear that inevitably arises in modern Western culture when addressing the issue of entheogens stems, I submit, not from any properties intrinsic to the substances themselves, but rather from a general misunderstanding of their power and capacity as tools. Just as a sharp knife can be used for good or ill, depending on whether it is in the hands of a skilled surgeon or a reckless youth, so too can entheogens be used or misused.

The use of entheogens such as ayahuasca is exemplary of the long and ongoing tradition in many cultures to employ psychoactives as tools that stimulate foundational types of understanding (Tupper, in press). That such substances are capable of stimulating profoundly transcendent experiences is evident from both the academic literature and anecdotal reports. Accounting fully for their action, however, requires going beyond the usual explanatory schemas: applying Gardner’s (1999a) multiple intelligence theory as a heuristic framework opens new ways of understanding entheogens and their potential benefits. At the same time, entheogens bolster the case for Gardner’s proposed addition of existential intelligence. This article attempts to present these concepts in such a way that the possibility of using entheogens as tools is taken seriously by those with an interest in new and transformative ideas in education.

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i The 1971 United Nations Convention on Psychotropic Substances allows for indigenous peoples to use traditional medicines and sacraments even if those substances are prohibited under international drug control treaties (United Nations, 1977, Article 32).

ii Santo Daime is the name of the sacrament as well as the religion.

iii Writers and drug aficionados William S. Burroughs and Allan Ginsberg (1963) published an account of their experiences seeking out and drinking ayahuasca in South America in the early 1960s, but their report was mostly negative and did not inspire many others to follow in their footsteps. As ethnobotanist Wade Davis remarks, “ayahuasca is many things, but pleasurable is not one of them” (2001).

iv The original seven types of intelligence Gardner (1983) proposed were: linguistic, logical-mathematical, spatial, musical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, and intrapersonal.

v Eliade (1964) identifies two primary ways of becoming a shaman: 1) hereditary transmission, or falling heir to the vocation in a family legacy passed down from generation to generation; and 2) spontaneous vocation, or being called to shamanism by the spirits. Prodigious existential intelligence may be manifest in either case.

vi Here I conceptually separate education and schooling; unfortunately, I don’t see the latter institution—the legacy of 19th-century homogenizing and democratizing socio-political programs (Cremin, 1961; Egan, 2002)—as inspiring much optimism for an embracing of existential intelligence.

vii Gotz (1970) argues that the practices of teachers might benefit from the mind-expanding potential of psychedelics.

viii “Set is a person’s expectations of what a drug will do to him [sic], considered in the context of his whole personality. Setting is the environment, both physical and social, in which a drug is taken” (Weil, 1972/1986). These factors influence all psychoactive drug experiences, but psychedelics or entheogens especially so.

Abstract

Ancestral medical practices are based on a highly sophisticated practical
knowledge and view the controlled induction of non-ordinary states of
consciousness as potentially beneficial, even in the treatment of the
modern phenomena of drug addiction. These ancestral practices stand in
contrast to the clumsiness with which Western peoples induce altered
states of consciousness. Drawing from his clinical experience in the High
Peruvian Amazonian forest, the author describes the therapeutic benefits
of the wise use of medicinal plants, including non-addictive psychoactive
preparations, such as the well-known Ayahuasca tea. Within an
institutional structure, a therapeutic system combining indigenous
practices with contemporary psychotherapy yields highly encouraging
results (positive in 2/3 of the patients). This invites us to reconsider
conventional approaches to drug addiction and the role of the individual’s
spiritual journey in recovery.

The Backwards Approach

Moving beyond the strict position that the final objective of drug
addiction therapy is complete abstinence, the Western world has responded
to its failures and limitations by considering the possibility of merely
reducing risks. The notion of substitution, as in methadone therapy for
heroin addiction, indicates a certain tolerance towards altered states of
consciousness. In this model, which treats these states as “inevitable” in
some sense, one would now be satisfied with limiting their negative
secondary effects. In the face of a Puritanism resigned to an almost
constant failure, this attitude opens new possibilities in treating drug
addiction. It now seems thinkable that drug addiction is an attempt,
certainly clumsy and sometimes extremely dangerous, of self-medication.
Users may be responding to a real need to escape the constricting mud of a
dry and devitalized lifestyle, one lacking exciting perspectives or room
to blossom.

Some take this new tolerance of drug use further, for example by proposing
to ravers that they learn about the drugs they consume, the risks that
they run, and the best way to avoid the negative consequences of their
conduct3. In this model, the drug user is considered a thinking and
consenting subject, who is invited to take responsibility for his actions.
The “repressive machine” that tends to substitute itself for the subject,
making his decisions, revoking his responsibility, and, in the end,
reinforcing an internal pattern of dependence, gives way to an approach
which appeals to the user’s intelligence. This model accepts the
authenticity of the user’s quest, even if it is often unconscious, for a
true liberty that can be confused with caprice.

While this attempt at finding meaning by exploring new realms of
consciousness can be chaotic and confused outside of a controlled setting,
it is reminiscent of more purposeful undertakings among traditional
peoples. In fact, one finds the induction of altered states of
consciousness for the purposes of initiation and therapy in all
traditions. Such experiences, always guided by a ritual frame, often
depend upon a fine understanding of the animal and vegetable substances
that serve as their catalysts. One may also affirm that, sometimes, the
same substances that serve as the “remedy” in indigenous cultures are the
“poison” in Western society. Hence the coca leaf, which is well integrated
into daily life in the Andean world, becomes a highly addictive
cocaine-based paste when taken out of context. Similarly, cannabis, poppy,
and tobacco may generate either remedy or poison according to the mode of
consumption and the context of ingestion.

It is noteworthy that biologists observe that all animal species consume
natural psychoactive substances with great eagerness when possible
(Siegel, Ronald, 1990). In fact, Siegel considers this conduct a fourth
instinctual instance of animal biology, as if life tends spontaneously
towards a broadening of perceptions and a concomitant amplification of
consciousness. It becomes difficult, then, to extract man from this vast
biological movement that embraces all animal life.

Indigenous Knowledge

Our observations in the Peruvian Amazon yield a supplementary fact: not
only do the natural psychoactive substances used by indigenous peoples not
generate dependence, they are utilized to treat the modern phenomenon of
drug addiction. This changes the way we understand toxicity; the Western
obsession with “substances” (drugs) is replaced, or at least accompanied
by, the concepts of the set (the subject, including genetic
predispositions, life history, and preparation) and setting (ritualized or
not). Indeed, psychoactive substances may be a treatment for “drug
addicts,” a fact that still seems paradoxical or impossible even to the
specialists in question. And yet, the facts speak for themselves.

This phenomenon also works for ethnic groups strongly affected by
substances such as alcohol, which represents for them, inversely, an
imported product removed from its context. Hence, the healers of the
Peruvian coast treat their alcoholics through the ritual use of the
mescaline cactus with a high rate of success (around 60 per cent, after
five years) (Chiappe, Mario, 1976). The Native North Americans reduce the
incidence of alcoholism on their reservations considerably and quite
rapidly by reviving their ancestral practices, including the ritual use of
peyote and tobacco (Hodgson, Maggi, 1997).

The ritualization of induced modifications of consciousness, with or
without substances, establishes a universal symbolic frame within which
these experiences acquire significance by allowing the individual to
inscribe himself within a model of cultural integration. In indigenous
groups, then, such experiences frequently accompany rites of passage,
particularly at adolescence, permitting the youth’s appropriation of the
discourse, images, and myths generated by the community. It is evident
that the fundamental lack of cultural consensus in our fragmented
post-modern society, along with the desacralization of the lived interior
and exterior, and the disappearance of all authentic rites of passage,
leaves us without the means to integrate experiences of altered states of
consciousness into our daily lives. In other words, the drug user sets off
randomly with neither compass nor map, often finishing badly.

These considerations lead to the following conclusion: not only must we no
longer take a position of passive tolerance toward an inevitable
consumption of psychoactive substances, but, on the contrary, we must
actively explore the coherent therapeutic use of psychoactive substances
without the outcome of dependence. Even more broadly, we must be open to
every induction of altered states of consciousness through diverse methods
(such as music, dance, fasting, isolation, breathwork, physical exercise,
pain, etc.) This calls for the application of therapeutic techniques that
create both a space of temporary containment and an authentic symbolic
frame which, as in the indigenous ritual space, integrates therapists and
users. Traditional peoples also teach us that substances consumed in their
natural form, used with respect to the body’s digestive natural barriers
(that is, orally), do not induce dependence, in spite of their powerful
psychoactive effects. The risk of toxicity is also lower because their
active principles are similar, if not identical, to the neuromediators
naturally secreted by our bodies. In case of overdose (which is generally
difficult to produce given the extremely disagreeable flavor of the
beverages), these substances are eliminated naturally by vomiting. This
self-regulating phenomenon provides for safe prescription and is an
integral part of the expected effects of ingestion, as well as those of
purgation-detoxification (hence their special role in the domain of drug
addictions). The context of ingestion requires rigorous dietary, postural,
and sexual regulations. In the course of successive ingestions,
sensitivity increases instead of creating a habit. As a result, the doses
gradually decrease: their use in addiction therapy is not, then, a simple
substitution.

It is remarkable that no visionary natural substance is addictive. Visions
seem to be the proof of sufficient cortical integration, of a
metabolization of the symbolic charge revealed during the experience of
altered consciousness. Entheogenic substances (also misnamed
hallucinogens) are hence among the best of those that may be used in a
therapeutic setting. This has already been attempted in psychotherapy
(LSD, MDMA, Harmaline, DMT, etc.), but generally without an integrating
symbolic framework (or ritual space), without engaging the therapist in
the method, with synthetic or semi-synthetic substances or extracts, and
through processes of assimilation that violate physiological barriers
(i.e., injections).

Ayahuasca

This highly psychoactive ancestral beverage is situated at the heart of
both the empirical medicinal practices of Amazonian cultures and,
recently, of explorations into the therapeutic potential of medicinal
plants, in particular in the domain of psychopathology, including drug
addiction therapy. The pharmacological sophistication of this preparation
reflects the high degree of understanding of the Amazonian peoples, who
are proven to have discovered Monoamine Oxidase Inhibitors (MAOIs) at
least three thousand years before Westerners. Tryptamines and
beta-Carbolines, the major active principles of Ayahuasca, are present in
many natural secretions as well as in the central nervous system (pineal
gland) (Mabit, Campos, Arce, 1993).

The entheogenic or visionary effects of this beverage have been hastily
called “hallucinogenic,” stigmatizing a compound which could be a
significant topic of research. Its potential as such risks being dismissed
by the academic community due to a stance less indebted to scientific
rationality than to society’s collective fears. We have argued that the
images stimulated by the use of Ayahuasca in a therapeutic context
symbolically manifest the content of the unconscious. Moreover, these
images are not without an object, whether it be psychological or
otherwise, which differentiates them completely from the “illusions
without object” that are by definition “hallucinations” (Mabit, 1988). The
exploration of the unconscious through Ayahuasca permits the rapid
extraction of extremely rich and highly coherent psychological material,
which can then be worked through with various psychotherapeutic methods.
Visions, like dreams, indicate the beginning of an integration at the
superior cortical level. The effects of Ayahuasca are not merely visual,
but embrace the entire perceptual spectrum, as well as the non-rational
functions tied to the right brain and to the paleoencephal or so-called
reptilian brain. The patient’s clinical experience fosters the development
of not only the projective but also the integrative functions of
symbolization, enabling the progressive readjustment of personality
structures. These explorations touch cross-cultural psychological depths
and, hence, may be applied in extremely broad and varied contexts of human
life.

After the observation for fifteen years of more than eight thousand
instances of Ayahuasca ingestion under specific conditions of preparation,
prescription, and therapeutic follow-up, we can affirm that the ingestion
of these preparations has a wide range of indications, with a total
absence of dependence. The expansion of the perceptual spectrum, which
simultaneously engages body, sensations, and thoughts, permits the
de-focalization of the ordinary perception of reality, thus allowing the
subject to confront his habitual problems on his own and from a new angle.
The intense acceleration of cognitive processes which accompanies this
process may permit the subject to conceive of original solutions that fit
his unique personality and situation.

The Center: A Pilot Project

Our ignorance in regard to the controlled induction of altered states of
consciousness could greatly benefit from ancestral medical knowledge. The
master healers of various traditions are ready to transmit their heritage
to those willing to learn and to embark upon a path of initiation. Six
years of teaching beside Amazonian healers has led us to develop a
therapeutic method using the controlled modification of states of
consciousness. Our system is based on ancestral techniques involving
medicinal plants and natural methods of detoxification, sensory
stimulation, and sensory deprivation. This pilot project attempts to
combine ancestral knowledge with contemporary psychotherapeutic practices,
working under the guidelines of ethical considerations and the
requirements of the Western mentality.

The program, in which no method of coercion is exercised, accepts groups
of no more than fifteen voluntary patients. The location is a five acre
park bordered by a river, just outside the city of Tarapoto, in the
Peruvian High Amazon, in the piedmont of the Andes (Mabit, Giove, Vega,
1996).

The therapy is based on a three-part method which includes the use of the
plants, psychotherapy, and community life. The guided experiences of
altered consciousness generate psychological material which is
subsequently discussed and evaluated in the psychotherapy workshops and
then directed towards expression in community life. In reverse, everyday
activities supplement the therapeutic sessions (with or without plants).

The initial use of purifying, sedative, and purgative plants reduces
withdrawal syndromes, rendering any return to prescription medication
during the stay unnecessary. Then, the psychoactive plants intervene,
powerfully facilitating the psychotherapy. From the brief sessions to the
eight day isolation in the forest with rigorous rules pertaining to food,
sex, external contacts and daily activities, each ingestion of
psychoactive plants is governed by specific conditions. Each session is
also facilitated by a trained therapist, and clearly inscribed into a
precise and rigorous symbolic frame, which improves the chance of success
for the session and its subsequent integration into the subject’s life.

These techniques permit the exploration of buried memories and the
re-emergence of censured situations or events. These “revelations” both
relieve the addict’s conscience and motivate him to face his sickness. A
temporary reduction of critical functions and discriminations facilitates
the cathartic expression of emotions. These experiences, with the help of
psychotherapeutic work, may then correct the defective formation of the
subject’s emotional expressions and ideals. By plunging under the veils of
ordinary consciousness and unblocking the paths of access to the deep Ego,
this exploration of the subject’s interior universe brings out rich
material, in contrast to these patients’ often insufficient symbolization.
During the subsequent sessions, the subject will learn to translate and to
interpret this material in order to explore subsequent dreams on his own.
Dream life is stimulated by these practices, also benefiting the patient.
One also observes an acceleration of cognitive processes and an
amplification of the attention-span and of the depth of mental
concentration. The clearly defined context, supplemented by a carefully
regulated lifestyle, invites the resident to implement the knowledge
obtained by this work. Hence, the space constitutes a laboratory in which
the residents are at once the observers and the subjects of their
observation. The medicinal plants play the central psychotherapeutic role,
while caretakers offer guidance and security. The users are guided into
liminal, or symbolically transitional, experiences in which they visit
their interior gods and demons. These experiences simultaneously involve
the subject’s psychological state, the whole range of emotional
sensations, and the spectrum of his psychological perceptions. In these
experiences, existential questions may come to light and demand an engaged
response. The guided and cathartic process can help the individual to
transcend his or her ordinary mindset and access somatic memories. In the
best cases, the individual is able to transcend the Ego, which can allow a
healthy deflation of the Ego, a reconciliation with human nature, and an
acceptance of our modest inscription in time and in matter, which is
nevertheless exciting because of its perceived meaning. In other words,
this is a process of initiation; it is a semantic experience which carries
meaning that can respond to the chaotic and disorderly quest of the drug
addict, which may be seen as a path of counter-initiation or as a savage
initiation (Mabit, 1993). This therapeutic method does not, then, simply
focus on abstinence, but also offers an adequate alternative. This
alternative method, which respects altered states of consciousness, is
able to respond to the drug addict’s quest by furnishing it with clear
ends and with non-dangerous means to reach them. This process supposes an
internal structural change which goes beyond the palliative of a simple
external behavioral change, which is never totally satisfying and most
often ineffective.

The duration of the stay is, in general, nine months, and the follow-up is
ideally two years. The centre has received patients of all social and
cultural origins. The techniques, which mainly demand self-exploration
through the senses, do not require any analytic verbalization or
integration, which represents an enormous therapeutic advantage. One may
even say that these experiences of altered consciousness give access to
ineffable, inexpressible trans-verbal spaces, which are as much
pre-logical or infra-verbal as they are ecstatic or supra-verbal. Here,
the local alcoholic peasant meets the European college student dependent
on pot, the urban bourgeois who functions on cocaine, the dealer addicted
to a cocaine-based paste, or the delinquent pathological liar who smokes
crack. To the contrary of what certain theorists say, the exploration of
the interior universe by these methods does not require that either the
therapist or the subject belong to the native culture of these practices.
Rather, these practices give access to personal intra-psychical symbols
which remain coherent to the subject and which touch depths that could be
called transcultural by virtue of reaching universal psychological
complexes (love, hate, rejection, abandon, fear, peace, etc.). At the same
time, the accompanying psychotherapy allows the patient to better
understand the experience of the session, to integrate it, generate new
questions, and enrich the following session. We have now mastered these
techniques ourselves, and we make use of them with patients from cultures
other than our own. They are accessible to any Western therapist willing
to fulfill the requirements of their long apprenticeship.

Results

Since its founding in 1992, the center has received more than 380
patients. One study has just been made (Glove, not yet published) of the
first seven years of activity (1992-1998), examining drug addicts or
alcoholics having completed at least one month of treatment and with at
least two years of time out of the clinic – a sample of 211 courses of
treatment (175 first-time patients and 36 returning patients). Note that
the results of this study do not include data on the 32% of patients who
leave during the first month before the first ayahuasca session, when the
treatment is not yet considered to have started. 28% reached the sixth
month of treatment, and 23.4% finished the entire treatment.

Two-thirds of the patients consumed mainly a highly addictive and
debilitating cocaine-based paste. 80% consumed alcohol alone or in
addition to other drugs. More than half of the patients (53.5%) had
already tried treatment, one-third of which had tried psychiatric
services. For 49%, the gateway drug was alcohol, and for 42%, cannabis.
The average age was thirty years and the average duration of consumption
of psychoactive substances at the time of entrance was 12.5 years. At
31.3%, with a tendency to augmentation, the index of retention (percentage
of prescribed exits out of total exits) gives proof of the relative
acceptance of this therapeutic method. The voluntary exits make up the
majority (52%) compared to prescribed exits (23%), runaways (23%), and the
rare expulsions (3%).

The evaluation of the results integrates qualitative givens, as well as
the incidence of abstinence or relapse due to poor prognostic criteria.
One should note that the patients leave free of any post-residential
medication. In addition to evaluating the relation to addictive
substances, especially those that the subject consumed before, we consider
personal evolution (internal structural change), the indications of social
and professional reintegration, and the capacity for familial
restructuring. According to these criteria, we may distinguish three
categories:

* “good”: favorable development, problems apparently resolved thanks
to a true structural change manifested upon several life levels.

* “better”: favorable development with evident structural changes, but
vestiges of the original problem still present.

* “same or bad”: relapse of consumption of substances, although often
more discrete, no convincing structural change, frequent abandonment
of substances for alcohol.

Out of the total, then, 31% were “good” and 23% “better,” while 23% were
the “same or bad” and 23% unknown. With hindsight, we can affirm that
about 35% of those who have lost contact with the Center are, in the end,
“good” or “better” (that’s 8% of the total), which means that about 62% of
the patients have, in the end, positively benefited from the follow-up of
the model proposed at the center. When one only takes into account the
sample of the patients with “prescribed exit,” (those who have completed
the entire program) the positive results are raised to 67%.

When the patients relapse or simply re-offend, 55.5% return to the center
and 26% find other local practitioners of traditional medicine, which
demonstrates their high opinion of this approach. When this occurs,
purgative plants are more solicited than psychoactive plants. This choice
demonstrates the absence of dependence on the psychoactive substances.

This method, officially recognized by the Peruvian authorities, has
expanded into a number of programs including educational programs (for
students), psychiatric and anthropological research, and outreach (written
and audio-visual media, and seminars for personal development).

Conclusion

The mere repression of drug consumption represents a simplistic approach
to the problem, with demonstrated ineffectiveness as a therapy. We may
well call it illogical and even immoral since it omits the substances that
are currently the most deadly (alcohol and tobacco). In addition, the
accelerated development of new substances on the market outstrips any
repressive attempt at control and relegates the game of penal
interdictions to failure. We are hence condemned to approach the problem
under another angle, whether we want to or not. Similarly, if harm
reduction and substitution only indicate proof of failure and a last-ditch
effort of pure social convenience, they are also, in our view,
reprehensible and morally dubitable. This is because they consecrate a
tacit rejection of healing, and the officialization, in a manner of
speaking, of a population of second class citizens tolerated for lack of a
therapeutic alternative.

The high degree of diffusion of the drug phenomenon in the 50’s and 60’s
was born of the contact between a few intellectuals with traditional
peoples, and, in particular, of North Americans with Amazonian Indians
(Ginsberg, Leary, Alpert, etc., — see Leary, Metzner, Alpert, 1964).
These intellectuals believed that they could appropriate ancestral
knowledge while only retaining the physical substance, reducing “the
approach of the gods” to the consumption of an active principle, playing
neurochemists like apprentice sorcerers (see Leary’s delirious work,
1979). This oversimplified view of substances and their potential has
generated a terrible drama. The phenomenon of substance addiction is
characteristic of Westernized societies and continues to be practically
unknown in indigenous populations or among peoples free from prolonged
Western influence.

By approaching this ancient knowledge with respect and careful study, it
seems possible to reinstate an authentic relation with the Mystery of Life
by returning to true paths of initiation. By validating the legitimate
quest of the drug user and redirecting it into a structured, meaningful
experience, perhaps we may avoid the lax defeatism of the “anything goes”
attitude as well as the rigid and useless bellicosity of “everything is
forbidden.”

Bibliography

Chappe, Mario. 1976. The use of hallucinogens in psychiatric folklore.
Boletin de la Oficina Sanitaria Panamericana (Bulletin of the Panamerica
Sanitary Office), 81 (2): 176-186.

Giove, Rosa. 2002 (to be published). The liana of the dead to the rescue
of the life. Contradrogas (Anti-drug) ed., Lima 200.

Hodgson, Maggi. 1997. From Alcoholism to a new life: the eagle has landed.
In: Indian communities develop futuristic addictions treatment and health
approach, Institute of Health Promotion, Research and Formation, Alberta,
Canada, 139, 11-14.

Leary, T. 1979. Graine d’Astre, Cosmos Ed., Canada, 204.

Leary, T., R. Metzner, R. Alpert. 1964. The Psychedelic Experience, First
Carol Publishing Group Ed.

Mabit J. 1993. Amazon shamanism and drug addiction: initiation and
counter-initiation. In: Revue AGORA, Éthique, Médecine et Société (AGORA
Review, Ethics, Medicine, and Society), Paris, 27-28, 139-145.

Mabit J., J. Campos, J. Arce. 1993. Considerations surrounding the
ayahuasca concoction and therapeutic perspectives. Revista Peruana de
Neuropsiquiatría, Lima, LV (2), 118-131.

Mabit J., R. Giove, J. Vega. 1996. Takiwasi : The Use of Amazonian
Shamanism to Rehabilitate Drug Addicts. In: Yearbook of cross-cultural
medicine and psychotherapy, Zeitschrift für Ethnomedizin (Journal of
Ethnomedicine), Publishing House for Science and Education, VWB, Berlin,
257-285.

Mabit J-M. unpublished. Ayahuasca hallucinations of the warriors of the
Peruvian Amazon, Working Paper 1/1998, French Institute of Andean Studies,
Lima, 15 p.

Siegel, Ronald. 1990. Intoxication, Pocket Books, New York, 1990, 390 p.

Sueur C., A. Benezech, D. Deniau, B. Lebeau, C. Zizkind. 1999.
Hallucinogenic substances and their theraputic usages – Literature Review,
Revue Documentaire Toxibase (Review of Drug Abuse Literature), 66 p.

The progress of science, and indeed, of human knowledge, requires a dynamic tension between the mere accumulation of observations and “dusty facts” and a synthetic process in which the accumulated results of scientific observation and inquiry are woven together into frameworks that, in the ideal case, create revolutionary paradigms that enhance human understanding of apparently discrete and unrelated aspects of nature.

The history of science and intellectual inquiry teach us that, as is so often the case with truly novel syntheses, established scientific and intellectual institutions are too ossified, and too invested in the conventionally accepted worldview, to allow the introduction of a new paradigm without putting up considerable resistance. One is reminded of the famous observation of philosopher Arthur Schopanhauer: All truth, he said, passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed; second, it is violently opposed; third, it is accepted as being self-evident. We should be wary of rejecting out of hand the premises of a hypothesis that may one day seem self-evident.

Evolutionary biologists have long been puzzled by what is perhaps the chief mystery of human origins: the explosive and rapid expansion of the human brain in size and complexity over a vanishingly small span of evolutionary time. There is also the mystery of hemispheric lateralization and the apparent de-integration of the right- and left-hemispheric functions that we humans suffer. In the book ‘Left In the Dark’, a culmination of over fifteen years of independent research into human evolution, the authors postulate that it was not always so; the universal myth of a pre-historic Golden Age, they maintain, is a racial memory that reflects our primate evolution in an arboreal, rainforest environment in which humans possessed mental and psychic abilities that have since become lost or atrophied in the profane ages that followed.

Changes in the dietary patterns that were forced on the population by this migration put an end to the rapid evolution of the human brain and triggered its devolution, ultimately resulting in the damaged human neural architecture that we suffer from today

That rainforest environment favored a frugivorous diet rich in flavonoids, MAO inhibitors, and neurotransmitter precursors, and relatively low in steroid containing or inducing elements. This dietary regime both mimicked and fostered a state, reinforced by positive feedback loops, in which pineal functions, including neocortical expansion and hemispheric integration, were potentiated; moreover, these neurochemical feedback loops were amplified in succeeding generations via the regulation of gene expression in the developing foetus, independent of conventional evolutionary mechanisms of mutation and natural selection.

Climate changes or other environmental catastrophes forced several lineages of hominids as well as archaic/early humans out of their forest-dwelling ancestral home into much harsher savannah or grassland environments. As a consequence dietary regimens shifted toward roots, tubers, grass seed and a greater proportion of animal protein, triggering a reversal of the positive feedback loops that had sustained pineal potentiation and hemispheric integration in the paradisiacal, forest-dwelling Golden Age. Pineal dominance was disrupted by steroid-mediated, testosterone-driven functions primarily due to the reduced consumption of flavonoids and other steroid-inhibitory dietary factors.

Changes in the dietary patterns that were forced on the population by this migration put an end to the rapid evolution of the human brain and triggered its devolution, ultimately resulting in the damaged human neural architecture that we suffer from today, and the myriad mental and physical deficits that are the legacy of our biological ‘fall from grace’.

What is alluded to here is only the barest outline of an elegant hypothesis that plausibly elucidates many baffling aspects of human evolution, brain science, and physiology into a coherent explanatory framework. Ecologists have realized for several decades that the complex interrelations of plants and insects are largely mediated through plant chemistry, and that the interactive dynamics we can observe in these processes is a reflection of millions of years of plant-insect co-evolution. Evolutionary biologists have long suspected that similar co-evolutionary processes, mediated by interactions with plant secondary products, have influenced the evolution of vertebrates, including primates. The hypotheses presented in this book are incomplete, and are even now being refined and developed; however, even in their present form they present a credible foundation on which to build a better understanding of who we are, and how our puzzling human species got to be the way it is.

© 2007 Dennis J. McKenna, Ph.D.

http://leftinthedark.org.uk/

Departamento de Processos Psicológicos Básicos, Instituto de Psicologia, Universidade de Brasília, Asa Norte, Brasília-DF 70910-900, Brazil. banisteria@gmail.com

The use of the hallucinogenic brew ayahuasca, obtained from infusing the shredded stalk of the malpighiaceous plant Banisteriopsis caapi with the leaves of other plants such as Psychotria viridis, is growing in urban centers of Europe, South and North America in the last several decades. Despite this diffusion, little is known about its effects on emotional states. The present study investigated the effects of ayahuasca on psychometric measures of anxiety, panic-like and hopelessness in members of the Santo Daime, an ayahuasca-using religion. Standard questionnaires were used to evaluate state-anxiety (STAI-state), trait-anxiety (STAI-trait), panic-like (ASI-R) and hopelessness (BHS) in participants that ingested ayahuasca for at least 10 consecutive years. The study was done in the Santo Daime church, where the questionnaires were administered 1h after the ingestion of the brew, in a double-blind, placebo-controlled procedure. While under the acute effects of ayahuasca, participants scored lower on the scales for panic and hopelessness related states. Ayahuasca ingestion did not modify state- or trait-anxiety. The results are discussed in terms of the possible use of ayahuasca in alleviating signs of hopelessness and panic-like related symptoms.

PMID: 17532158 [PubMed - indexed for MEDLINE]

The complete PDF
http://www.maps.org/w3pb/new/2007/2007_Santos_22932_1.pdf

Cougar, Michael. An Investigation of personal transformations and psychoactive plant use in syncretic ritual ceremonies in a Brazilian church. Tese de Doutorado. Institute of Transpersonal Psychology, Palo Alto. 2005.

Summary:
“Fifty-two North American and European participants in syncretic Brazilian church religious ceremonies were assessed for indications of personality and clinical disorders, and tendencies towards chemical dependency and addiction. Research participants attended at least 6 syncretic ceremonies and consumed a psychoactive tea, Daime, which is made from 2 Amazon Basin rainforest plants, the rainha and jagube. The research sample completed the Clinical Analysis Questionnaire (CAQ), a standardized assessment designed to reveal tendencies toward clinical and personality disorders and chemical dependence. Subgroups of the research sample (based upon age, gender, length of time associated with the Santo Daime Church, number of Festivals attended, average number of ceremonies per Festival, and preexisting diagnoses for clinical disorders) also were assessed. The norm population scores initially were compared to the research sample scores, and then compared to sample subgroup scores for each subgroup. Statistical analyses of the assessment scales scores were performed using t tests and ANOVA. Statistical analyses generally revealed no tendencies toward psychopathology or chemical dependence within the research sample. This study reveals the benefits of ethological analyses of psychoactive substance use.”

To get in touch with Michael: michaelcougar@msn.com

Source:
http://www.alto-das-estrelas.blogspot.com/