3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methyl amphetamine (MDMA) is one of the few known molecules to increase human and rodent prosocial behaviors. However, this effect has never been assessed on the social behavior of non-human primates. In our study, we subcutaneously injected three different doses of MDMA (1.0, 1.5 or 2.0mg/kg) to a group of three, socially housed, young male long-tailed macaques. More than 200 hours of behavioral data were recorded, during 68 behavioral sessions, by an automatic color-based video device that tracked the 3D positions of each animal and of a toy. This data was then categorized into 5 exclusive behaviors (resting, locomotion, foraging, social contact and object play). In addition, received and given social grooming was manually scored. Results show several significant dose-dependent behavioral effects. At 1.5mg/kg only, MDMA induces a significant increase in social grooming behavior, thus confirming the prosocial effect of MDMA in macaques. Additionally, at 1.5 and 2.0 mg/kg MDMA injection substantially decreases foraging behavior, which is consistent with the known anorexigenic effect of this compound. Furthermore, at 2.0 mg/kg MDMA injection induces an increase in locomotor behavior, which is also in accordance with its known stimulant property. Interestingly, MDMA injected at 1.0mg/kg increases the rate of object play, which might be interpreted as a decrease of the inhibition to manipulate a unique object in presence of others, or, as an increase of the intrinsic motivation to manipulate this object. Together, our results support the effectiveness of MDMA to study the complex neurobiology of primates’ social behaviors.
Ballesta, S., Reymond, G., Pozzobon, M., & Duhamel, J. R. (2016). Effects of MDMA Injections on the Behavior of Socially-Housed Long-Tailed Macaques (Macaca fascicularis). PloS one, 11(2), e0147136. http://dx.doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0147136 Link to full text
Recent studies with intravenous (i.v.) application of ketamine show remarkable but short-term success in patients with MDD. Studies in patients with chronic pain have used different ketamine applications for longer time periods. This experience may be relevant for psychiatric indications.
Aims
To review the literature about the dosing regimen, duration, effects and side-effects of oral, intravenous, intranasal and subcutaneous routes of administration of ketamine for treatment-resistant depression and pain.
Method
Searches in PubMed with the terms ‘oral ketamine’, ‘depression’, ‘chronic pain’, ‘neuropathic pain’, ‘intravenous ketamine’, ‘intranasal ketamine’ and ‘subcutaneous ketamine’ yielded 88 articles. We reviewed all papers for information about dosing regimen, number of individuals who received ketamine, number of ketamine days per study, results and side-effects, as well as study quality.
Results
Overall, the methodological strength of studies investigating the antidepressant effects of ketamine was considered low, regardless of the route of administration. The doses for depression were in the lower range compared with studies that investigated analgesic use. Studies on pain suggested that oral ketamine may be acceptable for treatment-resistant depression in terms of tolerability and side-effects.
Conclusions
Oral ketamine, given for longer time periods in the described doses, appears to be well tolerated, but few studies have systematically examined the longer-term negative consequences. The short- and longer-term depression outcomes as well as side-effects need to be studied with rigorous randomised controlled trials.
Schoevers, R. A., Chaves, T. V., Balukova, S. M., aan het Rot, M., & Kortekaas, R. (2016). Oral ketamine for the treatment of pain and treatment-resistant depression. The British Journal of Psychiatry, 208(2), 108-113. http://dx.doi.org/10.1192/bjp.bp.115.165498
Low-dose ketamine has been found to have robust and rapid antidepressant effects. A hypoactive prefrontal cortex (PFC) and a hyperactive amygdala have been suggested to be associated with treatment-resistant depression (TRD). However, it is unclear whether the rapid antidepressant mechanisms of ketamine on TRD involve changes in glutamatergic neurotransmission in the PFC and the amygdala.
Methods
A group of 48 TRD patients were recruited and equally randomized into three groups (A: 0.5 kg/mg-ketamine; B: 0.2 kg/mg-ketamine; and C: normal saline [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][NS]). Standardized uptake values (SUV) of glucose metabolism measured by 18F-FDG positron-emission-tomography before and immediately after a 40-min ketamine or NS infusion were used for subsequent region-of-interest (ROI) analyses (a priori regions: PFC and amygdala) and whole-brain voxel-wise analyses and were correlated with antidepressant responses, as defined by the Hamilton depression rating scale score. The 18F-FDG signals were used as a proxy measure of glutamate neurotransmission.
Results
The ROI analysis indicated that Group A and Group B, but not Group C, had increases in the SUV of the PFC (group-by-time interaction: F = 7.373, P = 0.002), whereas decreases in the SUV of the amygdala were observed in all three groups (main effect of time, P < 0.001). The voxel-wise analysis further confirmed a significant group effect on the PFC (corrected for family-wise errors, P < 0.05; post hoc analysis: Group A<Group C, Group B<Group C). The SUV differences in the PFC predicted the antidepressant responses at 40 and 240 min post-treatment. The PFC changes did not differ between those with and without side effects.
Conclusion
Ketamine’s rapid antidepressant effects involved the facilitation of glutamatergic neurotransmission in the PFC.
Li, C. T., Chen, M. H., Lin, W. C., Hong, C. J., Yang, B. H., Liu, R. S., … & Su, T. P. (2016). The effects of low‐dose ketamine on the prefrontal cortex and amygdala in treatment‐resistant depression: A randomized controlled study. Human Brain Mapping. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/hbm.23085 Link to full text
The research conducted by Jordi Riba, a Spanish pharmacologist working at Sant Pau hospital in Barcelona, revolves mostly around ayahuasca. He has a background in botany, chemistry, pharmacology and neuroscience. In an interview with the OPEN Foundation, he summarises the main findings of his work on the Amazonian psychedelic brew. In the second part, he refutes some of the controversy stirred up by a recent article about cannabis he co-authored. Jordi Riba will be among the speakers at our ICPR 2016 conference on psychedelics research.
How did you wind up in the psychedelic field?
I was always interested in the biochemistry of the brain, so any substances that interacted with the central nervous system had an interest for me. I did a lot of research into alkaloids, and one day while I was in college I came across Gordon Wasson’s account of his experiences with psilocybin mushrooms. I was quite impressed that there might be these alkaloids that could induce such profound effects on the psyche. I also thought it raised some interesting philosophical questions, since it was at the verge between religion and science. However, there were virtually no studies at the time, in the 1980s or early 1990s. A few years later I got to know Josep Maria Fericgla, an anthropologist who had been doing research in the Amazon on the ritual use of ayahuasca by the Shuar. He suggested that I translate Jonathan Ott’s Pharmacotheon into Spanish, so that gave me a lot of information about this field. He also introduced me to some ayahuasca-using groups in Spain, and I decided I was going to do my thesis on ayahuasca research.
Why did you choose to study ayahuasca rather than any other psychedelic?
For me it was important that it had a cultural use, that it was not merely a recreational substance. I thought the fact that there might be a religion around the use of a psychoactive plant, that cultures had evolved around the use of these plants for many centuries, gave an added interest. When I got to know people who were attending these rituals, I was very impressed by what they told me about the effects they were experiencing: insight in personal life matters, autobiographical memories, intense emotional feelings,… It was like nothing else I had heard about.
What’s the legal status of ayahuasca in Spain, and how easy was it for you to start doing the research, from a legal point of view?
Of course, there’s this international list of prohibited psychotropic substances, but authorities always leave the door open for legitimate research. I also happened to meet Manel Barbanoj, who became my thesis director. He was a pharmacologist at Sant Pau hospital in Barcelona, where I still work now. He had a very good reputation, having conducted many clinical studies in healthy volunteers and in patients. He was also very passionate about centrally acting drugs. So when I said: there’s this drug, ayahuasca, with an interesting interaction between alkaloids, it’s being taken ritually and these are the effects that people are reporting, he said: OK, I’m in, let’s start working on this. So we wrote a protocol and sent it to the internal review board. Years later, the head of this board told me that they had been shocked at first when they received this proposal, but they trusted my supervisor because he had such a good reputation, so they had decided to allow it. We then had to submit the protocol to the Spanish ministry of health, and they also approved it. So we’ve never encountered any opposition from the medical establishment or from the regulatory authorities against this kind of research.
Do you think it would have been as easy for you to start conducting research on psilocybin or LSD?
LSD, for sure, has a bad name. Maybe I could have tried studying psilocybin, but I think LSD would have been more difficult. Another difficulty we had at the time was that I wouldn’t have known where to obtain psilocybin, whereas I knew where I could get ayahuasca. That’s also a reason why I went for ayahuasca despite the fact that it’s a very complex mixture of substances.
Yes, ‘ayahuasca’ is such a vague thing. These two plants are supposed to be mixed in, but if you go to the Amazon, everyone who prepares ayahuasca has their own recipe. So how do you standardise it?
Of course, in every tradition, there are different plants that are being added, but we decided to focus on what had become popular in the urban areas of South America, and had also come to Europe and North America. This was basically the combination of Banisteriopsis caapi and Psychotria viridis, as the ayahuasca churches were using it. At the start of our research, we had a debate whether we should study synthetic compounds: just DMT, or a combination of synthetic DMT plus synthetic harmine. However, we really wanted to have a general view of the effects of ayahuasca as a whole in human physiology, because this was what people were taking in these ayahuasca rituals, at least the ones that were reaching Europe. So we decided to go for ayahuasca, and what we did was freeze-dry it. Basically, this only removes the water, but everything else is still there. It took us about three years to get this encapsulated freeze-dried ayahuasca ready before we could start our first trial. Maybe we could have progressed faster if we had used pure compounds, but then we would have gotten the criticism that what we studied was not ayahuasca.
Moreover, the encapsulated form solved the problem of placebo administration, because you can give placebo capsules, whereas it would be difficult to make a brew that resembles ayahuasca but is an inactive placebo.
Some researchers have tried to make a fake brew, with varying degrees of success. I think Rafael Guimarães dos Santos, a former PhD student of mine who is now working in Brazil, had prepared a placebo brew which he used in one of his studies. But of course, we wanted our results to be acceptable for mainstream pharmacological journals, and we knew that we would be required to compare ayahuasca with an inactive placebo, and also to control for subjects’ and investigators’ expectations. This is why I took all the trouble to do that. Later, some people have said that after a while, if you take ayahuasca, you will immediately notice that there’s something going on and there’s no more placebo effect…
That’s the classic placebo problem with psychedelics.
Yes, and it’s a legitimate criticism, but this problem is perhaps more obvious if you’re comparing a high ayahuasca dose versus a pure placebo. In several of our studies, we administered ayahuasca doses of different potencies, and some volunteers claimed to have had visions on placebo, while other people had no effect after a low ayahuasca dose.
Another aspect that we wanted to address was that it’s very common among ayahuasca users to say that sometimes they took a small amount and the effects were huge, and other times they took larger amounts and nothing happened. Once we standardised the ayahuasca in this freeze-dried form, we found that you get very nice dose-response effects in terms of intensity when you analyse the results as a whole, among groups. So there’s nothing ‘abnormal’ there, nothing that I wouldn’t expect.
This is a mean measure, derived from groups of subjects. But are there any individual differences? Ayahuasca seems much less linear than, say, psilocybin or LSD: the come-up time, the dose-effect ratio, duration of effects,… This is something your findings don’t seem to confirm.
Liquid ayahuasca has so much variability. From one batch to the next, the amounts of alkaloids can vary enormously. Maybe you think you’ve taken the same kind of ayahuasca, but the concentrations were totally different.
Sometimes two people drink from the same bottle, and one doesn’t feel anything, while the other one is floored.
Of course, there may be differences between subjects. But if you take the same person, and you give them carefully controlled doses, you’ll see an increase in the effect if you raise the dosage. In general terms, we saw the normal behaviour of effects induced by pharmacological substances, there was nothing magical about it. The magic was in the content of the visions, in the access to autobiographical memories, the insights and revelations; all of that was really magical.
There’s also the problem of purging. Do you have buckets in the lab, or how does this work?
I know that the shamanic tradition emphasises cleansing, but in most of our studies, we needed the people not to vomit. We didn’t want them to throw up part of the active compounds they had ingested, because we intended to measure blood and plasma levels of alkaloids. I think in this respect the formulation we used helped us a lot, because people were not nauseated right from the start, they didn’t feel the taste or the smell. Nausea was common at some point, but very few people have vomited in the lab using this formulation.
Doesn’t this introduce some differences between lab and field conditions?
Yes, of course. Whenever you want to obtain measures, you have to standardise. So it’s always going to be different if you take it in the lab or at home alone, or with friends, or in the Amazon with someone you trust or someone you distrust. What we do in the lab is to always try to reproduce the same conditions, but we try to make it as comfortable as possible for the subject. Usually, the experience is so introspective they completely forget about their surroundings. Sometimes it’s harder for participants to stand all the procedures when they get the placebo than when they get the active ayahuasca dose, because on ayahuasca they focus their attention on their inner experience, and they can completely forget about their surroundings.
What do you ascribe the near absence of purging to? I remember reading that the purging came from some kind of serotonergic process in the digestive system, not just from the vile taste or the amount of liquid. So how would you explain this absence of purging from a pharmacological point of view?
Purging is a very complex mechanism. You get information that goes from many different sources to the centre in the brain that controls vomiting. Vision can be a source: you can watch something unpleasant and have an inclination to vomit. Smell and taste also play a role. So can irritation of the stomach and the gastro-intestinal tract, as well as the activation of the vagus nerve, which occurs when you stimulate serotonergic neurotransmission. But there are many other neurochemical mechanisms that play a role there. The nausea is not as intense as when you take the liquid ayahuasca, perhaps because instead of getting stimulation from five different channels, you’re only getting stimulation from one channel, and this is usually not enough to trigger the purging response. This is my educated guess of what’s going on there.
Could you summarise the main findings of all these years of research?
Our initial goal was to see whether we could administer ayahuasca safely, and we were able to demonstrate this. This is important, because every now and then we get a news report in the media about people becoming aggressive or even dying during ayahuasca sessions in the Amazon. We don’t know why that is, but what we do know is that if you’re careful when selecting people, and with the dosages you administer, and you provide a safe and controlled environment, it can be done in the lab and people have good experiences.
You never observed any serious adverse effects?
In our first pilot study, we had a person who experienced a transient disorientation state, which caused him anxiety. It was quite unpleasant for him, he didn’t know who he was for a while. But it only lasted about 20 minutes, and then it was over. This person subsequently decided to withdraw from the study. That was perhaps the most serious adverse consequence I’ve ever observed in these controlled settings.
All the studies we have conducted have allowed us to gather a lot of data: we have learned what happens to the ayahuasca alkaloids when they are ingested. For instance, there were worries that harmine, a monoamine oxydase inhibitor (MAOI) that’s present in the tea, might interact with certain foodstuffs or other drugs, resulting in hypertensive reactions. We found that harmine is very rapidly eliminated from the organism, though. So ayahuasca is quite safe also from this point of view, the physiological effects can easily be tolerated by a healthy person. We don’t get very intense increases in blood pressure or in heart rate.
Regarding harmine, doesn’t it turn out to be safer than people very often suppose it to be? People tend to start dieting several days in advance before an ayahuasca session, abstaining from foods high in tyramine in order to avoid hypertensive crisis. Your studies don’t seem to confirm this risk.
We were surprised to find that in many subjects, we couldn’t even find any harmine, so it didn’t even cross the barrier between the gastro-intestinal tract and systemic circulation, due to both gut and liver enzymes. There might also be individual differences there. Some people might be more effective at eliminating harmine than others, so people should be careful anyway and not try to combine harmine with certain medications. But I also have to say that I witnessed many ayahuasca rituals in which people, after having taken two or three doses of ayahuasca, later dined on cheese and ham and other foodstuffs that, in principle, one wouldn’t recommend people to take. It seems difficult to get a serious toxicity effect from a single ayahuasca dose if your health is OK and you’re not taking other medications.
Beside of that, what I was really interested in was the brain mechanisms by which ayahuasca elicits its effects. We’ve used different techniques to assess this. Initially, we studied spontaneous brain electrical activity before and after ayahuasca administration. This was interesting, because what we see here is that ayahuasca decreases the alpha rhythm, which is a very prominent EEG rhythm that you get in posterior brain areas, and this rhythm is inhibitory. So when ayahuasca suppresses this rhythm, it enhances the spontaneous activity of posterior, visual regions. This might explain all these dreamlike visions people are having. And with functional connectivity analysis between EEG signals recorded at different sites, we’ve also found that ayahuasca decreases ‘top-down control’ of information processing. Usually, incoming information – be it internal information from your memory storage or external, sensory information – is interpreted based on your prior experience with this information. Ayahuasca reduces the expectations you have, and you are re-experiencing stored memories, for instance, in a very different way. So it helps you to take some distance or have a new outlook on things that, in principle, you already know, you’ve already experienced. I think this is quite valuable, and this is what might give ayahuasca its therapeutic potential.
We’ve also done neuroimaging studies. We did a SPECT study, in which we showed that ayahuasca increases the activation of areas that process memory and emotion. It also increases activity in areas that are at the frontier between cognition and emotion. This also supports the claims of ayahuasca users who say that the experience is not recreational at all, that painful memories may come to the mind, and that they are able to re-experience very intense affective processes.
In line with this possibility of being able to detach yourself from your own thoughts and to observe your feelings, emotions and memories, we’ve done recent studies in which we have assessed ‘mindfulness facets’ and creativity following ayahuasca intake. There are some psychotherapeutic schools that try to teach people to be present-centred, non-reactive, accepting and non-judgemental of their own thoughts, and not to identify themselves with them. We’ve seen in a recent study that in the hours following an ayahuasca session, these mindfulness abilities are increased. Enhancing these skills is the goal of mindfulness therapies and may take a long time to achieve using more classical approaches, such as meditation. In our study, participants’ scores after a single ayahuasca dose were similar to those of experienced meditators with many years of training. We have also assessed creativity during ayahuasca sessions [paper under review for publication in Psychopharmacology – Ed.], and we’ve seen that ayahuasca decreases conventional thinking and promotes creative ‘divergent thinking’, finding new ways of looking at things.
All these effects that we’ve been able to measure doing these experiments might explain why ayahuasca is showing promise to treat some medical conditions. I’ve also been able to get psychiatrists in my own institution interested in ayahuasca now, and some initial therapeutic studies have been conducted. I’ve collaborated with studies in Brazil, in which we’ve shown that ayahuasca can exert very rapid antidepressant effects, which are seen after a single dose and can be maintained for three weeks. Classic antidepressants take weeks before they induce any observable and beneficial effects on the patients. I’m really satisfied to see that ayahuasca can be put to good use.
Now, with my colleagues from the psychiatry department, we’re exploring the possibility of investigating whether ayahuasca could be useful to treat other conditions. Some well-designed studies on people with drug dependence, people with post-traumatic stress disorder,… This is what I’m looking forward to now, to start getting data on new potential applications. But I think it was essential to get these safety data first, and to determine a biological basis for the benefits people are reporting. If you only report these flowery stories that people might give you, perhaps my colleagues would not be so easily convinced.
You’ve monitored the acute effects of ayahuasca using brain imagery techniques. The same has been done at Imperial College in London with psilocybin. Have you found any correlation between the effects of both substances? For instance, they determined that psilocybin inhibits the functioning of the default mode network (DMN). Are these conclusions you’ve been able to verify or confirm?
The study Robin Carhart-Harris conducted was done with magnetic resonance imaging, and the study I did with ayahuasca used a nuclear medicine technique called SPECT. Depending on the technique you’re using, you’re getting access to part of the whole picture, but not of everything that’s going on there. So I think it’s good that research has been done with other techniques, and it also helps us if we combine all this information to get a picture of what’s going on there.
Since you mention the default mode network, we did a study of changes in brain structure in long-term ayahuasca users, and what we saw was a decrease in cortical thickness in the posterior cingulate cortex, in this key hub of the DMN. So that would fit with the results I had obtained with EEG, with results by Draulio de Araujo in Brazil, and with the results Robin has obtained with MRI and also with magnetoencephalography.
Have you been able to correlate these durable changes in brain structure with personality changes?
Yes, we administered a series of personality questionnaires, and the long-term ayahuasca users scored higher than the controls on a personality trait called self-transcendence, which has to do with spirituality, less materialistic life attitudes. There was also an interesting correlation there: the greater these cortical thickness decreases were, the higher they scored on this personality trait. In some psychiatric disorders, you see that there’s an inability to inhibit the DMN, and you get all these ruminations and depression. And then you see these long-term ayahuasca users that have a reduction in the brain structure around this area, and they seem to have a healthier approach to life. Even though we could not establish causation here, there was an obvious correlation that might contribute to explain the therapeutic potential ayahuasca may have.
Another interesting conclusion is that experienced ayahuasca users seem to perform better on some basic tasks in a number of ways. They perform better than naïve subjects, both sober and under the effects, but they also perform better under the effects than they do sober.
We did several studies in Brazil and here in Spain, assessing members of the ayahuasca churches. We administered a battery of questionnaires, but we also did a neuropsychological assessment: how their working memory is, their performance on different tasks. When we administered those neuropsychological tasks, ayahuasca users performed better than controls on some tasks. In a way, this came as a surprise because traditionally, regular use of psychoactives has been associated with certain deficits, at least for some addictive drugs. The pattern we’re seeing here with ayahuasca has nothing to do with the traditional patterns of addictive drugs.
As you said, we also assessed people before an ayahuasca session and during the ayahuasca session. In this experiment we saw that people could be divided in two groups. People who had taken ayahuasca just a few times – say, less than 30 – saw a decrease in their performance under ayahuasca. But those who were experienced users not only didn’t suffer these detrimental effects, but they performed better. How did we interpret this? In our study of the brain structure of long-term ayahuasca users, we had also observed an increase in cortical thickness in the frontal part of the brain, in an area which is a key hub of the ‘task-positive’ or ‘attentional’ network. It appears this might be helping people to perform better on certain neuropsychological tasks, because many of those are dependent on the correct functioning of the prefrontal cortex.
You often mention the experienced subjects that you use in your studies. Did these subjects come from a variety of backgrounds, including shamanic backgrounds, or only from established ayahuasca churches?
In most of the lab studies we have conducted where we administered ayahuasca, the participants did not have any religious background. They were experienced with psychedelics, and only some of them had had previous experience with ayahuasca. In the first pilot study, we did recruit six volunteers who had experience with ayahuasca. Then, when we saw that it was safe to administer, we also recruited people who had experience with psilocybin, mescaline or other similar substances. For the studies in the long-term users, the samples did come from the ayahuasca religions, mostly from the Santo Daime.
Do you think this might impact the results in any way? The membership of a religion can also have an impact on personality and – who knows? – maybe even on brain structure…
Yes, that’s a confounding factor, and we were worried that perhaps the beneficial effects we were seeing in the participants might be due to the combined effects of membership in a supportive group and ayahuasca intake. But in this last paper we have published on mindfulness facets, none of the people we assessed had any association with an ayahuasca religion, and they weren’t part of a group that was meeting on a regular basis. An important finding here is that we can see the same benefits in people that don’t have the confounding effect of religious beliefs or membership in a religious group. So I think ayahuasca has therapeutic potential of its own.
* * *
Now over to another type of research you did, about cannabis. The title of a recent article you co-authored, and which stirred up some controversy, was: “Cannabis users show increased susceptibility to false memories.” What struck me was the apparent lack of caution here, whereas usually you seem like a very cautious person. In the article, you state yourself that the results are “subtle”, but the wording, “false memories”, seems quite strong, while this is about lists of words, not images or personal memories. Also, some inferences are quite far-reaching, since you mention possible legal implications in the courtroom. Don’t you think this could lead to a situation where the word of chronic cannabis users would systematically be doubted?
Let me start with the term “false memory”. It’s a technical term used in psychology research and associated with the Roediger-McDermott paradigm we used in the study. In this sense, false memory is a kind of illusion that is common, it affects everyone in everyday life. Memory is constantly reprocessing information. Using this term was not a strategy to attract the reader’s attention, it’s just how this illusion is referred to in psychology.
If you want to assess this phenomenon in the lab, you have to standardise the way you’re doing this. One of the best approaches people have developed to do this, and that’s been used in different studies in different contexts, is this Roediger-McDermott paradigm, in which you use word lists. We had some experience with this paradigm, so we thought we could adapt it to be used in a magnetic resonance imaging setting. To my knowledge, this had not been done before, certainly not in the context of regular cannabis use. So we adapted it and looked at brain activation in two groups of subjects, and the methodology we used to compare these two populations was the same I had used to compare ayahuasca users and controls. We interviewed more than 60 long-term cannabis users, and we left some of them out of the study for various reasons, among which medical reasons: people who made it to the scanner were actually in good health, and in a situation in which we thought that any experience with other substances they might have, or any minor condition for which they could be taking medication would not interfere with the results.
What we found was that there was a difference in performance. We were assessing the users one month after having completely ceased cannabis use (as confirmed by negative urine samples), not during the acute effects of cannabis. They performed worse than the controls on the memory tests. The difference was not huge, but nevertheless around 50% more errors than controls. When you look at the brain activation patterns, you can clearly see that there’s a network which has been described by other scientists to be used in order to reject the false memory stimuli we were testing. To know that a certain word was not present in the initial list, you have to activate prefrontal regions, parietal regions and medial temporal lobe regions, which together act as a network. The controls performed better, they showed increased activation in all these regions that are needed to reject these lures, while in the cannabis users, there was a hypoactivation of this network. On top of that, when you look at the lifetime use of cannabis these people have, and you correlate this with brain regions where you see these hypoactivations, you see a clear negative correlation with the medial temporal cortex, an area that’s crucial for memory processing. We’re not the first team of researchers to have found such differences. There have been studies of hippocampal structure in which they have found decreases in hippocampal volume in cannabis users.
I know this study caused a lot of controversy, but I think the results show a good internal consistency because of these three facts: the behaviour results, the differences in brain activations, and this correlation. I’ve had some very negative reactions to this study, and unfortunately, some of them were quite hysterical, and not very rational. But I think one of the criticisms that were made was legitimate, namely the fact that the cannabis subjects might have been exposed to other substances as well over their lifetimes. This is possible, but not to an extent that was in the least comparable to their daily cannabis use for 20 years. To try to address this concern, we conducted another lab study in which we took healthy volunteers, people with no experience with cannabis, and this time we administered low doses of the active compound, tetrahydrocannabinol (THC). We were able to prove that the administration of 7.5 mg of THC could induce this false memory effect. So these deficits are present in long-term users one month after cessation of use, and the same false memory effect appears in healthy volunteers after acute administration. In a crime series, this would be called a smoking gun.
However, publishing these results doesn’t mean I think that cannabis has no therapeutic potential. And the good news from this second cannabis study is that we also assessed cannabidiol (CBD), this other compound that’s also present in the cannabis plant. CBD totally blocked the effect that THC was exerting on these memory processes when it was administered together with THC. And CBD on its own was actually able to improve performance on some neuropsychological tasks. So I think the cannabis plant has potential for therapeutic use, and I think CBD is a good candidate there. But I think what we should all think about is whether this trend that we’ve seen over the last 20 years or so, of selecting breeds of the cannabis plant with increasingly high THC levels, and increasingly low CBD levels, knowing they are somehow balancing out each other, is a good option. I’m not against personal choice regarding any drug, but if one decides to make this available to everyone over 18, I think people should be informed and they should know that THC and CBD exert very different effects. There are many other studies showing that acute cannabis administration causes memory troubles, that’s nothing new. The reason this paper got so much visibility and was published in a high-impact journal is that this specific false memory phenomenon had never been assessed in this group of users.
When it comes to ayahuasca, there’s a recurring criticism that I’m not studying ayahuasca in its ecological setting, that my studies may not have ecological validity. Here, one might argue that my study in cannabis users didn’t have ecological validity, because regular cannabis users use cannabis every day, and this study assessed effect after one month of abstinence. So perhaps I should have recruited stoned cannabis users. We would have seen they were even more affected, since we can induce these effects in the lab in non-chronic users with 7.5 mg of THC. So will a person, being a current daily cannabis user of a strain high in THC levels be a good witness in a trial? My educated guess is that more likely than not they won’t be.
But did you need to state this implication in the article?
You need to indicate why you’re calling people’s attention to this phenomenon. You have to put these things into context, you have to explain in which context this might be relevant. Moreover, we were asked by reviewers to contextualise our findings.
I think what also bothers people when you write about possible legal implications, is that they draw a line towards possible future discrimination against chronic cannabis users, be it in the courtroom, for job opportunities or whatever, some of which is already happening.
It was really not the intention to discriminate against anyone. If anyone thinks that’s what we intended, I apologise, this was not the case. I’m concerned about the users, and I think they should be informed, they should know that they might face these problems.
I think the problem with people who favour legalisation or decriminalisation, is that they interpret any bad news as an attack. Rafael Guimarães, my former PhD student, wrote an article describing a case study of someone who had suffered a psychotic break from ayahuasca, and he got a lot of criticism. Some people in the ayahuasca studies community told him that this was a war, so you shouldn’t show the enemy your weaknesses. But this is not a war, we’re trying to be scientists here. If we ask from society that we should be able to use these substances for legitimate purposes, medical or whatever, we should be aware of all their benefits, but also their risks. There’s no use in trying to sweep them under the carpet.
This also gave some people the impression that it’s easier to get public funding and a publication in renowned journals for studies that highlight the harms of cannabis rather than its benefits. People say there’s an imbalance between studies examining the benefits and the ones studying the harms of cannabis. Do you agree with this?
I’ve received public funds to study ayahuasca, salvinorin A and cannabis. Having received public funds has not interfered in any way in the way I’ve interpreted my findings. There was never a fear that, depending on what I might publish, I would get my funding cut. Review boards include scientists, who assess projects on their scientific merit and are usually driven by curiosity. It’s not the government who grants me these funds, it’s a panel of scientists. So there has not been any pressure from that side at all. I think I have a track record of saying positive and negative things, and we shouldn’t practice or encourage any kind of self-censorship.
And I don’t think it’s easier to get negative findings published than positive ones. Take for instance ketamine, which was demonised by the media. Some years ago, it was said that it was only used as an anaesthetic for horses by veterinarians, and by crazy young people in raves and clubs. Then some psychiatrists found out that ketamine had very potent antidepressant effects, and it worked very rapidly. This didn’t have to be published in underground magazines supporting free drugs for club users, just because it was about ketamine. It got published in Archives of General Psychiatry, and in many other top journals. The same goes for psilocybin. The study by Charles Grob in cancer patients, which was a pilot study with a very small sample, perhaps not with the best of designs, also got published in Archives of General Psychiatry. I don’t think we should succumb to this kind of paranoia.
Ibogaine is a psychoactive indole alkaloid found in the African rainforest shrub Tabernanthe Iboga. It is unlicensed but used in the treatment of drug and alcohol addiction. However, reports of ibogaine’s toxicity are cause for concern.
OBJECTIVES:
To review ibogaine’s pharmacokinetics and pharmacodynamics, mechanisms of action and reported toxicity.
METHODS:
A search of the literature available on PubMed was done, using the keywords “ibogaine” and “noribogaine”. The search criteria were “mechanism of action”, “pharmacokinetics”, “pharmacodynamics”, “neurotransmitters”, “toxicology”, “toxicity”, “cardiac”, “neurotoxic”, “human data”, “animal data”, “addiction”, “anti-addictive”, “withdrawal”, “death” and “fatalities”. The searches identified 382 unique references, of which 156 involved human data. Further research revealed 14 detailed toxicological case reports. Pharmacokinetics and pharmacodynamics: Ibogaine is metabolized mainly by CYP2D6 to the primary metabolite noribogaine (10-hydroxyibogamine). Noribogaine is present in clinically relevant concentrations for days, long after ibogaine has been cleared. Mechanisms of action: Ibogaine and noribogaine interact with multiple neurotransmitter systems. They show micromolar affinity for N-methyl-D-aspartate (NMDA), κ- and μ-opioid receptors and sigma-2 receptor sites. Furthermore, ibogaine has been shown to interact with the acetylcholine, serotonin and dopamine systems; it alters the expression of several proteins including substance P, brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF), c-fos and egr-1. Neurotoxicity: Neurodegeneration was shown in rats, probably mediated by stimulation of the inferior olive, which has excitotoxic effects on Purkinje cells in the cerebellum. Neurotoxic effects of ibogaine may not be directly relevant to its anti-addictive properties, as no signs of neurotoxicity were found following doses lower than 25 mg/kg intra-peritoneal in rats. Noribogaine might be less neurotoxic than ibogaine. Cardiotoxicity: Ether-a-go-go-related gene (hERG) potassium channels in the heart might play a crucial role in ibogaine’s cardiotoxicity, as hERG channels are vital in the repolarization phase of cardiac action potentials and blockade by ibogaine delays this repolarization, resulting in QT (time interval between the start of the Q wave and the end of the T wave in the electrical cycle of the heart) interval prolongation and, subsequently, in arrhythmias and sudden cardiac arrest. Twenty-seven fatalities have been reported following the ingestion of ibogaine, and pre-existing cardiovascular conditions have been implicated in the death of individuals for which post-mortem data were available. However, in this review, 8 case reports are presented which suggest that ibogaine caused ventricular tachyarrhythmias and prolongation of the QT interval in individuals without any pre-existing cardiovascular condition or family history. Noribogaine appears at least as harmful to cardiac functioning as ibogaine. Toxicity from drug-drug interaction: Polymorphism in the CYP2D6 enzyme can influence blood concentrations of both ibogaine and its primary metabolite, which may have implications when a patient is taking other medication that is subject to significant CYP2D6 metabolism.
CONCLUSIONS:
Alternative therapists and drug users are still using iboga extract, root scrapings, and ibogaine hydrochloride to treat drug addiction. With limited medical supervision, these are risky experiments and more ibogaine-related deaths are likely to occur, particularly in those with pre-existing cardiac conditions and those taking concurrent medications.
Litjens, R. P., & Brunt, T. M. (2016). How toxic is ibogaine?. Clinical Toxicology, 1-6. http://dx.doi.org/10.3109/15563650.2016.1138226 Link to full text
The mixed serotonin (5-HT) 1A/2A/2B/2C/6/7 receptor agonist psilocybin dose-dependently induces an altered state of consciousness (ASC) that is characterized by changes in sensory perception, mood, thought, and the sense of self. The psychological effects of psilocybin are primarily mediated by 5-HT2A receptor activation. However, accumulating evidence suggests that 5-HT1A or an interaction between 5-HT1A and 5-HT2A receptors may contribute to the overall effects of psilocybin. Therefore, we used a double-blind, counterbalanced, within-subject design to investigate the modulatory effects of the partial 5-HT1A agonist buspirone (20 mg p.o.) and the non-hallucinogenic 5-HT2A/1A agonist ergotamine (3 mg p.o.) on psilocybin-induced (170 µg/kg p.o.) psychological effects in two groups (n=19, n=17) of healthy human subjects. Psychological effects were assessed using the Altered State of Consciousness (5D-ASC) rating scale. Buspirone significantly reduced the 5D-ASC main scale score for Visionary Restructuralization (VR) (p<0.001), which was mostly driven by a reduction of the VR item cluster scores for elementary and complex visual hallucinations. Further, buspirone also reduced the main scale score for Oceanic Boundlessness including derealisation and depersonalisation phenomena at a trend level (p=0.062), whereas ergotamine did not show any effects on the psilocybin-induced 5D-ASC main scale scores. The present finding demonstrates that buspirone exerts inhibitory effects on psilocybin-induced effects, presumably via 5-HT1A receptor activation, an interaction between 5-HT1A and 5-HT2A receptors, or both. The data suggest that the modulation of 5-HT1A receptor activity may be a useful target in the treatment of visual hallucinations in different psychiatric and neurological diseases.
Pokorny, T., Preller, K. H., Kraehenmann, R., & Vollenweider, F. X. (2016). Modulatory effect of the 5-HT1A agonist buspirone and the mixed non-hallucinogenic 5-HT1A/2A agonist ergotamine on psilocybin-induced psychedelic experience. European Neuropsychopharmacology. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.euroneuro.2016.01.005 Link to full text
3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA, “ecstasy”) enhances desire to socialize and feelings of empathy, which are thought to be related to increased oxytocin levels. Thus, variation in the oxytocin receptor gene (OXTR) may influence responses to the drug. Here we examined the influence of a single OXTR nucleotide polymorphism (SNP) on responses to MDMA in humans. Based on findings that carriers of the A allele at rs53576 exhibit reduced sensitivity to oxytocin-induced social behavior, we hypothesized that these individuals would show reduced subjective responses to MDMA, including sociability. In this 3-session, double blind, within-subjects study, healthy volunteers with past MDMA experience (N = 68) received a MDMA (0, 0.75 mg/kg and 1.5 mg/kg) and provided self-report ratings of sociability, anxiety, and drug effects. These responses were examined in relation to rs53576. MDMA (1.5 mg/kg) did not increase sociability in individuals with the A/A genotype as it did in G allele carriers. The genotypic groups did not differ in responses at the lower MDMA dose, or in cardiovascular or other subjective responses. These findings are consistent with the idea that MDMA-induced sociability is mediated by oxytocin, and that variation in the oxytocin receptor gene may influence responses to the drug.
Bershad, A. K., Weafer, J. J., Kirkpatrick, M. G., Wardle, M. C., Miller, M. A., & de Wit, H. (2016). Oxytocin receptor gene variation predicts subjective responses to MDMA. Social neuroscience. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/17470919.2016.1143026
Monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs) are often ingested together with tryptamine hallucinogens, but relatively little is known about the consequences of their combined use. We have shown previously that monoamine oxidase-A (MAO-A) inhibitors alter the locomotor profile of the hallucinogen 5-methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine (5-MeO-DMT) in rats, and enhance its interaction with 5-HT2A receptors. The goal of the present studies was to investigate the mechanism for the interaction between 5-MeO-DMT and MAOIs, and to determine whether other behavioral responses to 5-MeO-DMT are similarly affected. Hallucinogens disrupt prepulse inhibition (PPI) in rats, an effect typically mediated by 5-HT2A activation. 5-MeO-DMT also disrupts PPI but the effect is primarily attributable to 5-HT1A activation. The present studies examined whether an MAOI can alter the respective contributions of 5-HT1A and 5-HT2A receptors to the effects of 5-MeO-DMT on PPI. A series of interaction studies using the 5-HT1A antagonist WAY-100,635 and the 5-HT2A antagonist MDL 11,939 were performed to assess the respective contributions of these receptors to the behavioral effects of 5-MeO-DMT in rats pretreated with an MAOI. The effects of MAO-A inhibition on the pharmacokinetics of 5-MeO-DMT and its metabolism to bufotenine were assessed using liquid chromatography–electrospray ionization–selective reaction monitoring–tandem mass spectrometry (LC-ESI-SRM-MS/MS). 5-MeO-DMT (1 mg/kg) had no effect on PPI when tested 45-min post-injection but disrupted PPI in animals pretreated with the MAO-A inhibitor clorgyline or the MAO-A/B inhibitor pargyline. The combined effect of 5-MeO-DMT and pargyline on PPI was antagonized by pretreatment with either WAY-100,635 or MDL 11,939. Inhibition of MAO-A increased the level of 5-MeO-DMT in plasma and whole brain, but had no effect on the conversion of 5-MeO-DMT to bufotenine, which was found to be negligible. The present results confirm that 5-MeO-DMT can disrupt PPI by activating 5-HT2A, and indicate that MAOIs alter 5-MeO-DMT pharmacodynamics by increasing its accumulation in the central nervous system.
Halberstadt, A. L. (2016). Behavioral and pharmacokinetic interactions between monoamine oxidase inhibitors and the hallucinogen 5-methoxy-N, N-dimethyltryptamine. Pharmacology Biochemistry and Behavior. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.pbb.2016.01.005 Link to full text
Sacred Knowledge. Psychedelics and Religious Experiences. William A. Richards. New York: Columbia University Press. ISBN: 9780231174060
William A. (Bill) Richards is een van de weinige nog in leven zijnde mensen die zowel betrokken waren bij de ‘eerste golf’ van onderzoek met psychedelica – in de jaren zestig en zeventig – als bij het huidige tijdperk van psychedelisch onderzoek. Het is dan ook moeilijk om zich iemand voor te stellen die beter geschikt is om te praten over de waarde van religieuze, spirituele of mystieke ervaringen, spontaan dan wel ingeleid door psychedelische substanties, dan Richards, met zijn formele opleiding in klinische psychologie, vergelijkende godsdienstleer, theologie en godsdienstpsychologie, alsook zijn persoonlijke ervaringen met psychedelische en mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden.
Zonder het specifiek te benoemen pakt Sacred Knowledge de draad op waar William James’ klassieker TheVarieties of Religious Experience de lezer achterliet met vragen over mystieke ervaringen veroorzaakt door psychedelische substanties. Met slechts een enkele mislukte mescaline-poging en beperkte door lachgas geïnspireerde inzichten, wijdde James nooit een hoofdstuk aan exogeen opgeroepen mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden. Richards daarentegen wijdt hier een heel boek aan, en laat de lezer op eloquente wijze kennismaken met de vele facetten van door psychedelica opgewekte mystieke staten van bewustzijn. Sacred Knowledge is niet alleen een wetenschappelijk werk over de raakvlakken tussen psychedelica en mysticisme, maar ook een persoonlijke en professionele geschiedenis van Richards’ eigen verhouding met deze onderwerpen.
Na het geven van een historisch overzicht van onderzoek met psychedelica, en een nadere beschrijving van hoe hij zelf in deze materie verwikkeld raakte, schetst Richards een onderscheid tussen visionaire en mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden en wijdt hij een hoofdstuk aan elk van de essentiële kenmerken van mystieke ervaringen, zoals intuïtieve kennis van het goddelijke (ongeacht of men dat nu ‘God’, ‘Allah’, ‘Jahweh’, ‘Brahman’, ‘Celestial Buddha Fields’ of de ‘Leegte’ noemt), gevoelens van eenheid, en het onuitsprekelijke karakter van de ervaring (ook al beschrijft Richards dit toch op bewonderenswaardige wijze).
Hij snijdt een aantal gemeenschappelijke thema’s aan die doorheen de geschiedenis en in verschillende culturen door mystici worden beschreven, zoals de bewering dat liefde uiteindelijk aan de bron ligt van alles en dat het bewustzijn onverwoestbaar is. Richards slaagt erin deze onderwerpen te behandelen met academische nauwkeurigheid, zonder de in het boek beschreven waarden en inhoud van de ervaringen te depreciëren. De auteur schuwt evenmin de diepe metafysische, ontologische en existentiële vraagstukken, waarmee vele mensen die deze mystieke staten van bewustzijn ervaren hebben, worden geconfronteerd. Wat is de zin van het leven? Wat is God? Richards zet, om deze kwesties aan te gaan, net zo makkelijk Griekse filosofen uit de Oudheid in, als Bijbelse referenties zoals de bekering van Paulus op weg naar Damascus, of Dante’s Divina Commedia, alsook referenties naar zijn persoonlijke ervaringen, of de woorden van patiënten op hun sterfbed.
Het derde deel concentreert zich op (inter)persoonlijke aspecten, zoals het belang van vertrouwen voor het mogelijk maken van een weldadige ervaring. Het behandelt ook moeilijkere ervaringen zoals angst, spanning en wanhoop, en hoe hiermee om te gaan. Richards staat stil bij de dood en hoe daar in het Westen mee wordt omgegaan, en wijdt een hoofdstuk aan wat mogelijk de grootste uitdaging is inzake uiterst diepzinnige ervaringen: hoe de hieruit verkregen inzichten volledig te verwerken in het dagelijkse leven. Hij komt met richtsnoeren over hoe men gunstige ervaringen kan maximaliseren en hoe men mogelijke risico’s kan beperken. In deel IV geeft Richards een overzicht van hedendaags onderzoek en ook richtingen voor toekomstige studies naar de mogelijke toepassingen van psychedelische stoffen in onderwijs, geneeskunde en religie. Aan het einde van het boek deelt hij een aantal door de jaren heen vergaarde inzichten, en is tevens een uitgebreide playlist te vinden van muziek die tijdens vele psychedelische sessies is gebruikt, waar door honderden deelnemers naar is geluisterd, en die door decennialang onderzoek is geperfectioneerd, twee heerlijke bonussen.
Door zijn enorme ervaring in het omgaan met alternatieve bewustzijnstoestanden (‘alternative’ in het Engels; hij verkiest dit boven het vaak gebruikte ‘altered’, wat ‘gewijzigd’ betekent, red.), in het begeleiden van vrijwilligers, patiënten en onderzoeksdeelnemers doorheen deze staten, en in het trachten te doorgronden van deze diepgaande veranderingen in het bewustzijn, is Richards een vriendelijke, doch kritische, waarnemer geworden. Hij geeft een overvloed aan bewijs voor zijn hoofdstelling, namelijk dat psychedelica, wanneer deze aan goed voorbereide mensen worden gegeven, in een setting van behulpzaamheid en vertrouwen, en onder begeleiding van een ervaren en invoelende gids, steevast tastbare en gunstige effecten geven.
Het is moeilijk om je iemand voor te stellen die beter dan Bill Richards geschikt is als pleitbezorger van psychedelicagebruik voor het bevorderen van spiritueel, psychologisch of educatief welzijn. De schat aan waardevolle ervaringen, expertise, kennis en begrip die Richards over de jaren heen heeft verzameld en die hij met ons deelt in Sacred Knowledge, maakt dit werk erg waardevol en een genot om te lezen. Het prachtige en subtiele omslagontwerp bij deze hardcover-editie (zeker niet onbelangrijk) draagt hier ontegenzeggelijk bij aan de leeservaring. Weinig mensen zouden Sacred Knowledge geschreven kunnen hebben, en nog minder zo welbespraakt als Richards dat heeft gedaan. Het is een absolute aanrader voor eenieder die een interesse heeft in mystieke ervaringen of de mogelijke toepassingen van psychedelische substanties, maar het is waarschijnlijk net zo relevant voor goedgeïnformeerde academici met een interesse in diepe, mogelijk levensveranderende, alternatieve bewustzijnstoestanden.
Sacred Knowledge. Psychedelics and Religious Experiences. William A. Richards. New York: Columbia University Press. ISBN: 9780231174060
William A. (Bill) Richards is een van de weinige nog in leven zijnde mensen die zowel betrokken waren bij de ‘eerste golf’ van onderzoek met psychedelica – in de jaren zestig en zeventig – als bij het huidige tijdperk van psychedelisch onderzoek. Het is dan ook moeilijk om zich iemand voor te stellen die beter geschikt is om te praten over de waarde van religieuze, spirituele of mystieke ervaringen, spontaan dan wel ingeleid door psychedelische substanties, dan Richards, met zijn formele opleiding in klinische psychologie, vergelijkende godsdienstleer, theologie en godsdienstpsychologie, alsook zijn persoonlijke ervaringen met psychedelische en mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden.
Zonder het specifiek te benoemen pakt Sacred Knowledge de draad op waar William James’ klassieker TheVarieties of Religious Experience de lezer achterliet met vragen over mystieke ervaringen veroorzaakt door psychedelische substanties. Met slechts een enkele mislukte mescaline-poging en beperkte door lachgas geïnspireerde inzichten, wijdde James nooit een hoofdstuk aan exogeen opgeroepen mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden. Richards daarentegen wijdt hier een heel boek aan, en laat de lezer op eloquente wijze kennismaken met de vele facetten van door psychedelica opgewekte mystieke staten van bewustzijn. Sacred Knowledge is niet alleen een wetenschappelijk werk over de raakvlakken tussen psychedelica en mysticisme, maar ook een persoonlijke en professionele geschiedenis van Richards’ eigen verhouding met deze onderwerpen.
Na het geven van een historisch overzicht van onderzoek met psychedelica, en een nadere beschrijving van hoe hij zelf in deze materie verwikkeld raakte, schetst Richards een onderscheid tussen visionaire en mystieke bewustzijnstoestanden en wijdt hij een hoofdstuk aan elk van de essentiële kenmerken van mystieke ervaringen, zoals intuïtieve kennis van het goddelijke (ongeacht of men dat nu ‘God’, ‘Allah’, ‘Jahweh’, ‘Brahman’, ‘Celestial Buddha Fields’ of de ‘Leegte’ noemt), gevoelens van eenheid, en het onuitsprekelijke karakter van de ervaring (ook al beschrijft Richards dit toch op bewonderenswaardige wijze).
Hij snijdt een aantal gemeenschappelijke thema’s aan die doorheen de geschiedenis en in verschillende culturen door mystici worden beschreven, zoals de bewering dat liefde uiteindelijk aan de bron ligt van alles en dat het bewustzijn onverwoestbaar is. Richards slaagt erin deze onderwerpen te behandelen met academische nauwkeurigheid, zonder de in het boek beschreven waarden en inhoud van de ervaringen te depreciëren. De auteur schuwt evenmin de diepe metafysische, ontologische en existentiële vraagstukken, waarmee vele mensen die deze mystieke staten van bewustzijn ervaren hebben, worden geconfronteerd. Wat is de zin van het leven? Wat is God? Richards zet, om deze kwesties aan te gaan, net zo makkelijk Griekse filosofen uit de Oudheid in, als Bijbelse referenties zoals de bekering van Paulus op weg naar Damascus, of Dante’s Divina Commedia, alsook referenties naar zijn persoonlijke ervaringen, of de woorden van patiënten op hun sterfbed.
Het derde deel concentreert zich op (inter)persoonlijke aspecten, zoals het belang van vertrouwen voor het mogelijk maken van een weldadige ervaring. Het behandelt ook moeilijkere ervaringen zoals angst, spanning en wanhoop, en hoe hiermee om te gaan. Richards staat stil bij de dood en hoe daar in het Westen mee wordt omgegaan, en wijdt een hoofdstuk aan wat mogelijk de grootste uitdaging is inzake uiterst diepzinnige ervaringen: hoe de hieruit verkregen inzichten volledig te verwerken in het dagelijkse leven. Hij komt met richtsnoeren over hoe men gunstige ervaringen kan maximaliseren en hoe men mogelijke risico’s kan beperken. In deel IV geeft Richards een overzicht van hedendaags onderzoek en ook richtingen voor toekomstige studies naar de mogelijke toepassingen van psychedelische stoffen in onderwijs, geneeskunde en religie. Aan het einde van het boek deelt hij een aantal door de jaren heen vergaarde inzichten, en is tevens een uitgebreide playlist te vinden van muziek die tijdens vele psychedelische sessies is gebruikt, waar door honderden deelnemers naar is geluisterd, en die door decennialang onderzoek is geperfectioneerd, twee heerlijke bonussen.
Door zijn enorme ervaring in het omgaan met alternatieve bewustzijnstoestanden (‘alternative’ in het Engels; hij verkiest dit boven het vaak gebruikte ‘altered’, wat ‘gewijzigd’ betekent, red.), in het begeleiden van vrijwilligers, patiënten en onderzoeksdeelnemers doorheen deze staten, en in het trachten te doorgronden van deze diepgaande veranderingen in het bewustzijn, is Richards een vriendelijke, doch kritische, waarnemer geworden. Hij geeft een overvloed aan bewijs voor zijn hoofdstelling, namelijk dat psychedelica, wanneer deze aan goed voorbereide mensen worden gegeven, in een setting van behulpzaamheid en vertrouwen, en onder begeleiding van een ervaren en invoelende gids, steevast tastbare en gunstige effecten geven.
Het is moeilijk om je iemand voor te stellen die beter dan Bill Richards geschikt is als pleitbezorger van psychedelicagebruik voor het bevorderen van spiritueel, psychologisch of educatief welzijn. De schat aan waardevolle ervaringen, expertise, kennis en begrip die Richards over de jaren heen heeft verzameld en die hij met ons deelt in Sacred Knowledge, maakt dit werk erg waardevol en een genot om te lezen. Het prachtige en subtiele omslagontwerp bij deze hardcover-editie (zeker niet onbelangrijk) draagt hier ontegenzeggelijk bij aan de leeservaring. Weinig mensen zouden Sacred Knowledge geschreven kunnen hebben, en nog minder zo welbespraakt als Richards dat heeft gedaan. Het is een absolute aanrader voor eenieder die een interesse heeft in mystieke ervaringen of de mogelijke toepassingen van psychedelische substanties, maar het is waarschijnlijk net zo relevant voor goedgeïnformeerde academici met een interesse in diepe, mogelijk levensveranderende, alternatieve bewustzijnstoestanden.