I get either depressed or angry (and often both) when focusing on the philosophical absurdity of substance prohibition, so I have decided to take a break from that irritating topic for a few minutes and to write a short essay instead on the philosophy of psychedelic drug effects. To be specific, I wish to address the question of why the world seems so new and surprising to those who are under the influence of such medicines. This has, I suggest, everything to do with Immanuel Kant 1 's categories and the forms of Socrates.
With apologies to John Locke, our minds are clearly not blank slates (tabla rasas) when we arrive in the world, or if they are, they do not remain so for long. Consider how the merest 2- or 3-year-old is aware that any dog is a dog -- despite the fact that dogs vary so wildly in attributes. In fact, a toddler will understand that a two-dimensional rendering of a dog is a dog. We clearly see the world via rule-based understandings, based on preexisting categories or forms. Otherwise, a child would have to have his or her concept of "dog" updated by adults time and time again after encountering diverse examples of the species. And so the parent has no need to say things like: "See, honey? That schnauzer is just as much a dog as that Great Dane!" Or, "See, honey? These lines on this paper are what we call a 2-D rendering of the dog that we can also see in real life!" The parents can save their breath. The kids already know that a dog is a dog is a dog. They know thanks to their possession of a built-in rule-book on this topic.
We can hypothesize then that at least some of the seemingly bizarre experiences of a psychedelic voyage result from the sudden abeyance of such rules. Under the influence of the drug, we are no longer constrained to see that pile of fur as a dog -- but rather as a carpet or as jungle foliage or as oscillating tendrils of some great sea monster. In short, we are constrained -- or rather freed -- to think creatively in our drugged state whereas we are constrained to think practically -- i.e., with a utilitarian 234 focus -- in a so-called "sober" state.
At best, antidepressants make depression bearable. We need not settle for such drugs, especially when they are notorious for causing dependence. There are many drugs that elate and inspire. It is both cruel and criminal to outlaw them.
If we encourage folks to use antidepressants daily, there is nothing wrong with them using heroin daily. A founder of Johns Hopkins used morphine daily and he not only survived, but he thrived.
Big pharma drugs are designed to be hard to get off. Doctors write glowingly of "beta blockers" for anxiety, for instance, but ignore that fact that such drugs are hard -- and even dangerous -- to get off. We have outlawed all sorts of less dependence-causing alternatives.
The best harm reduction strategy would be to re-legalize opium and cocaine. We would thereby end depression in America and free Americans from their abject reliance on the healthcare industry, meanwhile ending gang violence and restoring the rule of law in Latin America.
Drug Warriors will publicize all sorts of drug use -- but they will never publicize sane and positive drug use. Drug Warrior dogma holds that such use is impossible -- and, indeed, the drug war does all it can to turn that prejudice into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Like when Laura Sanders tells us in Science News that depression is an intractable problem, she should rather tell us: "Depression is an intractable problem... that is, in a world wherein we refuse to consider the benefits of 'drugs,' let alone to fight for their beneficial use."
The fact that some drugs can be addictive is no reason to outlaw drugs. It is a reason to teach safe use and to publicize all the ways that smart people have found to avoid unwanted pharmacological dependency -- and a reason to use drugs to fight drugs.
There's more than set and setting: there's fundamental beliefs about the meaning of life and about why mother nature herself is full of psychoactive substances. Tribal peoples associate some drugs with actual sentient entities -- that is far beyond "set and setting."
The "scheduling" system is completely anti-scientific and anti-patient. It tells us we can make a one-size-fits-all decision about psychoactive substances without regard for dosage, context of use, reason for use, etc. That's superstitious tyranny.
Psychiatrists prescribe drugs that muck about with a patient's biochemical baseline, making them chemically dependent and turning them into patients for life.
(up)