Timothy Leary was ahead not only of his own times but of our times as well. His reflections in "The Politics of Ecstasy1" are so full of deep (and yet, in a way, common-sense) insights, that one is amazed that almost everybody in the materialist mainstream is lined up to denounce him. There is only one area in which Leary himself seems to have been bamboozled by western drug prejudices, and that is in his evaluation of opiate use. For all his philosophical subtlety, he fails to see that the downsides that we associate with opiate use today are a natural outcome of the prohibitionist mindset, which fails to teach safe use, fails to regulate drugs as to quantity and quality, and fails to re-legalize an ever-growing collection of opiate alternatives. Leary succumbs to the drug-war practice of blaming drugs, in this case heroin, for the problems that prohibition causes for drug users.
"The appeal of heroin is the void. The warm, soft cocoon of nothingness. Surcease. Easeful death2." --Timothy Leary, The Politics of Ecstasy
Leary assumes here that there is only one way to use opiates. It never occurs to him that in a free world, opiate use could be engaged in sensibly for a wide variety of reasons. See The Truth about Opium for more3.
Why this bias?
The idea that opiate use is "beyond the pale," at least for westerners, has roots in the xenophobic and unscrupulous determination of 19th-century protestant missionaries to get the Chinese people to put down their opium pipes and to pick up Christian Bibles instead. In fact, The Anti-Opium Society of 19th-century England was created in response to the lies of an American missionary who claimed that two million Chinese die every year from smoking opium, a ridiculous and blatant falsehood. William H. Brereton, author and long-time Hong Kong resident, quotes the attorney General of Hong Kong of that time to the following effect.
"No China resident believes in the terrible frequency of the dull, sodden-witted, debilitated opium smoker met with in print.4"
To which Brereton adds:
"I had daily intercourse with the people from whom the best and most trustworthy information on the subject of opium and opium smoking could be obtained, and my experience is that opium smoking, as practised by the Chinese, is perfectly innocuous.5"
And what about dependency?
Leary lived before modern antidepressants had hit their stride as a financial game changer in the healthcare industry, but imagine the hypocrisy of wringing our hands over potential dependency in the case of opiate use while yet living in a world that encourages -- encourages -- actual dependency on Big Pharma drugs, to the point where it is a modern trope to ask a troublemaker: "Have you taken your meds today?" Incidentally, the fact that we ask this question only of troublemakers shows that such pills are prescribed more for the benefit of society than the user. Their goal is to make the user socially acceptable, not to help us to think outside the box, and least of all to help us to "live large."
To his credit, Leary did not want the police to arrest heroin users. In fact, he claimed that such users were, like alcoholics, on a sort of religious journey in search of self-transcendence, which is really a profound insight on Leary's part, albeit one sure to raise the hackles of the materialists in our modern drug laboratories, in which human beings are considered to be biochemical widgets and the very idea of transcendence is considered to be an anti-scientific illusion. Leary does, however, believe that such users have chosen the wrong substance for their journey and should switch to using psychedelics instead.
While psychedelics may indeed have transformative benefits, Leary betrays a cramped view of human psychology when he assumes that opiates could not be used wisely for lofty, and even religious, goals as well. In a sane world, one in which we were blinded neither by puritan fears nor materialist dogma, we would immediately discover endless potential positive uses for opiates. Let me just pick one random potential protocol out of an infinitude of common-sense possibilities: namely, the inspiration-seeking individual could use opiates once a month to experience the kind of surreal appreciation of Mother Nature that Poe describes as follows in his short story entitled "A Tale of the Ragged Mountains":
"In the meantime the morphine had its customary effect- that of enduing all the external world with an intensity of interest. In the quivering of a leaf- in the hue of a blade of grass- in the shape of a trefoil- in the humming of a bee- in the gleaming of a dew-drop- in the breathing of the wind- in the faint odors that came from the forest- there came a whole universe of suggestion- a gay and motley train of rhapsodical and immethodical thought.6"
Imagine the pretension and presumption of anyone -- even Timothy Leary -- telling me that such states of mind are not beneficial for me -- or are perhaps even pathological! That is not a scientific judgment, folks, that is a political judgment, and a tyrannical one at that.
Leary was well aware that the details matter when it comes to using psychedelics. What he failed to fully appreciate was that the details matter when it comes to ALL kinds of drug use, and that no drug is good or bad in and of itself. This is a crucial oversight on Leary's part because the only way to end drug prohibition is to drive a stake through the heart of the prohibitionist mindset, by pointing out its philosophical absurdity. And what is the prohibitionist mindset? It is the superstitious idea that drugs can be good or bad in themselves without regard for the details of use. It is the crazy idea that a substance that has potential negative uses for a young white American must not be used by anybody, anywhere, ever, and that it is even wrong to educate people about them. This attitude is not just anti-scientific, it is anti-human progress. It results in a safety standard for drug use that we apply to no other risky activity on earth: not to mountain climbing, not to parachuting, and certainly not to gun firing or alcohol consumption.
Instead of carving out exceptions to this absurd prohibition based on special pleading -- whether that of Timothy Leary or of the modern white boosters of psilocybin -- we need to finally renounce the prohibitionist mindset itself. Until then, America will continue to practice pharmacological colonialism with the entire world, foisting its own cramped and fear-driven views of psychoactive substances on indigenous people worldwide, thereby turning drug-hating into a kind of new world religion, a religion that turns materialist scientists into the self-interested gatekeepers when it comes to self-transcendent experiences. In such a world, the only drug users who will be treated fairly are those white protestants who can make rhetorical cases on behalf of their own use that will resonate with and evoke compassion from the sort of Christian protestants who promoted this ill-conceived and inherently racist Drug War in the first place7. And so if a white mother uses oxy for anxiety (because it was the only truly effective medicine that her GP could give her for the condition), she will receive compassion; whereas a Black mother who uses the drug without medical blessing will be kicked out of her public housing unit8.
This is what happens when we base drug policy on how we feel about drug users -- rather than on common sense and a belief in the rights of all people to psychological and religious liberty.
AFTERWORD
I have criticized psychiatrists like Gabriel Mate for moralizing drug use. It may therefore seem odd that I would praise Leary for saying that heroin users were searching for something -- namely self-transcendence. My criticism of Mate, however, is that he tends to pathologize the user when what we should be pathologizing is the society that made their use problematic. For Mate, the user has a problem that the rest of us do not have -- whereas Leary seems to understand that we all have a problem and that heroin users at least decided to do something about that problem, even if their choice was doomed to failure. But let us remember why such attempts usually fail: it is because the Drug War is all about seeing to it that they do fail. It should be remembered in this context that Drug Czar William Bennett always reserved his deepest hate-filled intolerance for people who used drugs wisely and without problem. He thought that they should have their names printed in the newspaper and shamed, yes, shamed for using wisely. This is an absurd outcome of prohibition, but it is one that we should have expected. An absurd philosophy leads to absurd outcomes, so it should be no surprise when the prohibitionist philosophy of the Drug Warrior leads us to hate seemingly good things like drug education and safe drug use.
It's a category error to say that scientists can tell us if psychoactive drugs "really work." It's like asking Dr. Spock of Star Trek if hugging "really works." ("Hugging is highly illogical, Captain.")
So he writes about the mindset of the deeply depressed, reifying the condition as if it were some great "type" inevitably to be encountered in humanity. No. It's the "type" to be found in a post-Christian society that has turned up its scientific nose at psychoactive medicine.
Oregon has decided to go back to the braindead plan of treating substance use as a police matter. Might as well arrest people at home since America has already spread their drug-hating Christian Science religion all over the world.
I can't believe that no one at UVA is bothered by the DEA's 1987 raid on Monticello. It was, after all, a sort of coup against the Natural Law upon which Jefferson had founded America, asserting as it did the government's right to outlaw Mother Nature.
Cocaine is not evil. Opium is not evil. Drug prohibition is evil.
The Drug War brought guns to the "hoods," thereby incentivizing violence in the name of enormous profits. Any site featuring victims of gun violence should therefore be rebranded as a site featuring victims of the drug war.
Of course, prohibitionists will immediately remind me that we're all children when it comes to drugs, and can never -- but never -- use them wisely. That's like saying that we could never ride horses wisely. Or mountain climb. Or skateboard.
By reading "Drug Warriors and Their Prey," I begin to understand why I encounter a wall of silence when I write to authors and professors on the subject of "drugs." The mere fact that the drug war inspires such self-censorship should be grounds for its immediate termination.
Proof that materialism is wrong is "in the pudding." It is why scientists are not calling for the use of laughing gas and MDMA by the suicidal. Because they refuse to recognize anything that's obvious. They want their cures to be demonstrated under a microscope.
The media called out Trump for fearmongering about immigrants, but the media engages in fearmongering when it comes to drugs. The latest TV plot line: "white teenage girl forced to use fentanyl!" America loves to feel morally superior about "drugs."
It's a category error to say that scientists can tell us if psychoactive drugs "really work." It's like asking Dr. Spock of Star Trek if hugging "really works." ("Hugging is highly illogical, Captain.")