The Science of Ayahuasca—Gathering Momentum By Simon G
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The
Science
of
Ayahuasca—Gathering
Momentum
By
Simon
G.
Powell
I
was
recently
fortunate
enough
to
attend
the
European
Ayahuasca
Research
Symposium.
The
academic
event
took
place
in
the
University
of
Amsterdam
and
was
attended
by
about
200
people
or
so,
mostly
Dutch
students
as
far
as
I
could
tell.
My
overall
impression
was
that
the
science
of
ayahuasca
is
in
its
infancy
and
that
more
questions
were
raised
by
the
content
of
the
speakers’
talks
than
were
answered.
In
other
words,
it
seemed
clear
to
me
that
the
long
revered
psychological
impact
of
ayahuasca,
as
with
the
impact
of
similar
substances
like
psilocybin,
is
rife
with
research
potential
and
that
science
has
yet
to
really
get
to
grips
with
the
psychedelic
visionary
state.
Science
may
know
much
about
the
various
South
American
peoples
who
employ
ayahuasca,
it
may
know
about
its
physical
and
chemical
nature,
it
may
even
know
which
brain
receptors
are
the
principal
site
of
its
powerful
neurological
action,
yet
the
bottom
line
is
that
we
understand
very
little
about
consciousness
itself
and
how
consciousness
can,
with
the
right
chemical
intervention,
expand
into
spectacular
life‐changing
visionary
realms.
Which
implies
that
this
ayahuasca
symposium
may
well
herald
the
start
of
a
bigger
research
agenda
to
come.
The
first
speaker
at
the
event
was
anthropologist
Bia
Labate
who
has
studied
ayahuasca
use
for
over
a
decade
and
who
recently
wrote
a
book
about
ayahuasca
and
health.
Labate
explained
how
the
ayahuasca
phenomenon
cuts
across
a
dizzying
array
of
scientific
disciplines—
psychology,
psychiatry,
psychotherapy,
neuroscience,
neurochemistry,
anthropology,
ethnobotany,
phenomenology—you
name
it,
ayahuasca
touches
upon
all
these
fields
of
investigation.
Not
to
mention
religion
and
metaphysics
of
course
which
are
modes
of
knowledge
and
enquiry
also
relevant
to
the
ayahuasca
experience.
She
went
on
to
point
out
the
various
problems
associated
with
conducting
scientific
research
with
ayahuasca—problems
like
its
prohibition
in
most
countries
of
the
world
along
with
the
pejorative
connotations
inevitably
associated
with
illegal
drugs.
And
even
in
countries
where
ayahuasca
is
legal,
this
is
generally
only
the
case
under
the
ritual
auspices
of
a
religious
organisation
such
as
the
Santo
Daime
church.
Given
such
widespread
illegality,
any
scientific
researcher
out
to
seriously
explore
ayahuasca
has
a
daunting
task
ahead
of
them.
Labate
also
pointed
out
problematic
issues
such
as
the
context
(i.e.
the
setting)
of
the
ayahuasca
experience
and
the
dosage
used.
Science
requires
a
standardised
methodology.
Thus,
if
you
want
to
investigate
the
healing
efficacy
of
ayahuasca
(and
we
should
bear
in
mind
that
the
therapeutic
efficacy
of
psychedelics
is
very
much
in
vogue
at
the
current
time),
then
it
makes
sense
to
standardise
dose
and
setting
as
much
as
possible.
With
slightly
uncomfortable
candour,
Labate
went
on
to
mention
that
in
situ
ayahuasca
use
is
not
always
concerned
with
healing
but
may
be
about
shamanic
warfare.
Obviously
it
sounds
more
romantic
to
Western
ears
that
ayahuasca
is
used
primarily
to
heal
the
sick
rather
than
to
conjure
up
visionary
poisonous
darts
to
injure
some
enemy.
Labate
made
it
clear
that
the
pop
understanding
of
indigenous
ayahuasca
use
is
incomplete
and
that
it
is
not
all
about
dazzling
healing
visions
but
has
a
darker
side.
She
also
noted
the
conflicts
that
arise
between
the
various
kinds
of
logic
involved
in
accounting
for
ayahuasca
phenomenology—
anything
from
the
logic
of
psychiatry
to
shamanic
logic.
With
so
many
ways
and
styles
of
describing
what
happens
during
a
therapeutic
ayahuasca
session,
which
explanatory
approach
should
science
utilise?
The
second
speaker
was
Jorg
Daumann.
His
particular
take
on
the
subject
was
clear
right
from
the
start.
He
kicked
off
by
talking
about
the
neurochemistry
of
schizophrenia
and
how
psychedelics
like
DMT
(the
principal
vision‐inducing
ingredient
of
ayahuasca)
could
be
used
to
understand
the
abhorrent
neurochemistry
associated
with
mental
disease.
I
was
rather
surprised
by
this
approach
as
I
thought
this
kind
of
thinking
had
gone
away
in
the
early
1960s.
With
so
much
literature
available
on
the
spiritual
and
healing
effects
of
substances
like
psilocybin,
ayahuasca,
and
MDMA,
is
it
really
necessary
to
return
to
a
conceptual
approach
that
harks
back
to
the
work
of
Kraepilin
(dating
back
over
100
years)
that
seeks
similarities
between
entheogenesis
and
psychosis?
The
idea
that
psychedelics
can
mimic
psychosis
is
a
tad
insulting
to
anyone
who
has
partaken
of
them
and
experienced
transcendental
states
of
consciousness.
Moreover,
the
gist
of
the
entire
symposium,
or
at
least
the
most
prominent
thread,
was
that
ayahuasca
possesses
valuable
medicinal
and
therapeutic
properties.
So
if
Daumann’s
approach
is
to
be
taken
seriously
then
we
would
have
to
conclude
that
people
under
the
influence
of
ayahuasca
become
temporarily
psychotic
in
order
to
get
well.
That
sounds
like
a
contradiction
to
me,
especially
when
one
considers
the
tutorial
nature
of
ayahuasca
visions
widely
reported
by
Western
users.
Anyhow,
Daumann
was
interested
in
the
attention
disorders
that
manifest
in
schizophrenia
and
how
drugs
like
DMT
(and
ketamine)
can
elicit
similarly
degraded
attention
in
certain
experimental
situations.
The
idea
was
that,
under
the
influence
of
psychedelics,
the
filters
of
the
human
brain/mind
do
not
function
properly
and
therefore
attention
is
less
focused
and
more
prone
to
be
caught
up
in
ostensibly
trivial
environmental
information.
In
other
words,
attention
gets
focused
in
alternative
ways
and,
according
to
Daumann,
this
mimics
what
happens
in
schizophrenia.
Whilst
it
is
undoubtedly
true
that
psychedelics
like
DMT
and
psilocybin
alter
consciousness
in
oft
curious
and
strange
ways
that
may
mimic
in
some
way
the
strangeness
associated
with
a
psychotic
mind,
all
this
really
demonstrates
is
that
in
both
cases—in
both
schizophrenia
and
entheogenesis—large
scale
changes
are
occurring
at
the
most
complex
and
‘higher
end’
aspects
of
consciousness.
With
both
psychosis
and
the
psychedelic
experience,
the
very
core
of
what
it
is
to
be
a
consciously
minded
human
being
is
modified
and
altered
from
the
norm.
As
is
the
core
of
one’s
relationship
with
culture,
the
environment
and
the
rest
of
the
reality
process.
So
the
most
likely
reason
scientists
first
opted
for
the
‘psychotomimetic’
approach
to
psychedelics
is
because
of
the
sheer
unusualness
of
psychedelic
consciousness
compared
to
normal
consciousness
and
not
because
psychedelics
drive
you
mad.
Having
said
as
much,
certainly
it
is
the
case
that
‘bad
trips’
can
seem
to
the
experiencer
to
be
a
kind
of
temporary
madness.
But
I
suspect
similarities
like
this
are
minimal
and
are
simply
the
result
of
complex
psychological
restructuring
processes.
In
any
case,
the
real
question
is
whether
Daumann’s
approach
helps
us
get
to
grips
with
something
as
strange
as
the
DMT
experience.
As
it
was,
Daumann
concluded
that
the
effects
of
ketamine
upon
attention
seemed
to
be
more
closely
related
to
the
attention
deficits
found
in
psychosis
than
were
the
effects
of
DMT.
Brian
Anderson
was
up
next
and
he
talked
about
ayahuasca’s
role
in
psychiatry
and
he
again
brought
up
the
psychotomimetic
approach
to
the
ayahuasca
experience
as
opposed
to
the
therapeutic
approach.
Does
ayahuasca
lead
to
a
“harmful
break
with
reality”?
If
so,
then
how
to
account
for
the
growing
number
of
popular
testimonies
concerning
the
curative
visions
that
ayahuasca
can
potentiate?
Anderson
asked
if
some
kind
of
biochemical
change
was
the
chief
causal
healing
factor
or
was
it
the
psychological
nature
of
the
visions
themselves
that
caused
the
healing?
As
I
intimated
at
the
outset,
ayahuasca
raises
many
questions
that
pertain
to
consciousness,
mind
and
body.
Given
that
we
have
yet
to
really
define
what
consciousness
is
and
the
relationship
of
the
physical
brain
to
the
mind,
is
it
any
wonder
that
ayahuasca
confounds
science?
Until
we
get
some
kind
of
handle
on
what
the
mind,
or
consciousness,
is
exactly
and
how
it
relates
to
the
more
familiar
world
of
matter
and
energy,
we
will
be
hard
pressed
to
get
to
grips
with
the
kinds
of
transcendental
consciousness
potentiated
by
ayahuasca.
In
many
ways,
we
are
fumbling
in
the
dark
even
though
we
may
divine
that
something
big
and
interesting
is
in
our
vicinity.
Anderson
ended
his
discourse
by
mentioning
a
tentative
ongoing
study
in
which
ayahuasca
is
being
used
to
treat
depression.
Two
subjects
have
apparently
reported
positive
effects.
Some
audience
questions
at
this
point
concerned
what
was
new
in
the
field
of
ayahuasca
research.
The
two
main
items
of
interest
appeared
to
be
the
growing
interest
in
therapeutic
studies
along
with
more
and
more
court
cases
concerning
the
legality
of
using
ayahuasca.
When
you
may
have
to
go
to
court
in
order
to
keep
your
research
study
alive,
it
is
not
surprising
that
psychedelic
science
is
so
sluggish.
This
kind
of
socio‐political
problem
also
raised
the
spectre
of
how
religion
is
defined.
Since
most
ayahuasca
court
cases
seem
to
revolve
around
whether
or
not
ayahuasca
can
be
taken
as
part
of
a
legitimate
religious
practice,
the
actual
definition
of
a
bona
fide
religion
is
called
into
question.
Anthropologist
Rama
Leclerc
was
next
on
stage
and
she
talked
about
her
studies
of
the
Shipibo‐
Konibo
people
of
the
Peruvian
Amazon
and
the
various
kinds
of
person
who
visit
them
to
partake
in
ayahuasca
ceremonies.
She
went
into
a
lot
of
detail
about
special
diets
and
the
relationship
of
the
shaman
with
their
apprentices.
She
also
brought
up
the
notion
of
plant
spirits.
She
then
made
a
comment
that,
although
uttered
rather
casually,
was
actually
quite
loaded.
Apparently
there
is
a
difference
between
(Western)
males
and
females
regarding
the
source
of
the
healing/guiding
force
of
ayahuasca,
or
the
source
of
the
Other
as
we
can
call
it
(i.e.
the
felt
presence
of
an
intelligence
that
one
is
in
psychedelic
communion
with).
According
to
Leclerc,
males
tend
to
interpret
the
guiding
Other
as
something
external
to
the
self,
whereas
females
tend
to
interpret
it
as
something
internal
to
the
self.
This
implies
that
the
common
notion
in
psychedelic
circles
that
the
Other
is
some
kind
of
entity
separate
from
the
self
is
but
one
interpretation
of
the
ayahuasca
experience,
an
interpretation
that
might
be
male‐
orientated
and
might
only
be
popular
because
males
tend
towards
more
prominence
in
ayahuasca
writings
and
such.
I
personally
find
this
essentially
hermeneutic
issue
(hermeneutics
is
the
study
of
interpretation)
of
interest
because
it
makes
one
question
our
assumptions
about
what
the
Other
is.
Undoubtedly
psychedelics
like
DMT
and
psilocybin
unleash
visions
that
can
seem
to
be
tutorial
and
guiding,
that
have
a
life
of
their
own,
so
much
so
that
they
may
seem
to
be
something
separate
from
the
self.
But
if
this
is
simply
an
interpretation
that
comes
in
the
wake
of
an
extraordinary
and
unfamiliar
state
of
consciousness,
then
it
is
equally
plausible
that
what
psychedelic
plants
do
is
to
activate
what
can
be
referred
to
as
a
‘higher
aspect’
of
the
self,
a
kind
of
living
inner
wisdom
if
you
will,
a
potential
of
the
human
mind
to
reorder
itself
and
attain
a
more
healthy
and
coherent
state.
So
dramatic
is
this
re‐ordering
process
that
we
may
infer
the
process
to
be
the
work
of
an
Other
when,
in
fact,
it
is
us,
or
at
last
a
hitherto
latent
‘higher’
potential
of
the
human
psyche.
Such
speculation
was
actually
affirmed
by
the
following
speaker,
transpersonal
psychologist
Petra
Bokor,
who,
in
her
studies
of
ayahuasca’s
therapeutic
effects
in
numerous
Hungarian
ceremonies,
cited
the
“emergence
of
the
higher
self”
as
an
indicator
of
therapeutic
success.
Bokor
also
noted
that
an
important
factor
in
the
healing
process
was
to
integrate
the
ayahuasca
experience
via
lifestyle
changes
and
that
this
kind
of
process
was
equivalent
to
long
term
psychotherapy.
This
brought
to
mind
the
therapeutic
role
of
ibogaine
in
treating
drug
addicts.
A
single
visionary
session
with
ibogaine
(derived,
like
ayahuasca,
from
a
shamanic
plant)
can
be
so
powerful
as
to
break
a
drug
habit
that,
with
traditional
treatments,
might
take
months
or
even
years
to
cure.
The
extreme
power
of
ayahuasca
probably
explains
why
many
psychotherapists
baulk
at
the
very
thought
of
utilising
shamanic
plants.
The
effects
are
so
profound
and
so
little
understood,
that
it
may
be
deemed
safer
to
practice
with
more
traditional
medicines
and
therapy
regimens.
Last
to
speak
was
psychologist
Janine
Schmid
who,
to
her
credit,
managed
to
complete
a
study
of
ayahuasca
self‐therapy
in
fifteen
European
subjects.
This
self‐therapy
with
the
shamanic
brew
took
various
forms—such
as
visits
to
Peru,
DIY
ceremonies,
involvement
with
the
Santo
Daime
church,
and
so
on.
All
the
subjects
suffered
various
ailments,
mainly
physical
such
as
pain,
tumours,
depression,
etc.
Most
felt
better
after
their
ayahuasca
sessions—remissions
were
reported
along
with
a
decline
in
symptoms,
even
an
apparently
complete
recovery.
This
kind
of
astonishing
result—particularly
physical
healing
as
opposed
to
just
feeling
mentally
better—clearly
demands
further
study.
If
verified,
ayahuasca
might
prove
to
be
a
medicine
more
powerful
than
we
realise.
So
what
are
to
conclude
from
this
tentative
ayahuasca
symposium?
It
seems
to
me
that,
as
with
similar
psychedelics
like
psilocybin,
the
ayahuasca
experience—so
radically
different
to
our
normal
frames
of
mind—is
bursting
with
potential
scientific
research
opportunities.
In
fact,
given
the
eclectic
array
of
disciplines
involved
that
I
alluded
to
at
the
outset,
I
can
well
envisage
a
multi‐disciplinary
journal
dedicated
solely
to
ayahuasca.
After
all,
we
find
journals
dedicated
solely
to
phenomena
like
cell
biology,
fluid
mechanics,
neurons,
and
obesity.
What
warrants
any
given
dedicated
journal
is
a
subject
rife
with
import
and
potential
knowledge.
And
what
can
be
more
profoundly
rife
with
potential
knowledge
than
ayahuasca?
In
any
case,
if
vigorously
controlled
ayahuasca
experimentation
is
ever
to
begin
in
earnest,
then
precise
dosages
of
its
active
ingredients
would
need
to
be
available.
Is
this
possible?
I
asked
pharmacology
professor
Dave
Nichols
about
this,
as
he
has
synthesized
all
manner
of
psychedelic
drugs
for
official
research
purposes.
He
told
me:
“Certainly
I
think
it
would
be
possible
to
make
capsules
with
variations
in
amounts
of
DMT
and
the
various
harmala
alkaloids
and
have
them
evaluated
by
ayahuasca
drinkers
as
to
their
efficacy.
Then,
use
that
as
a
‘standardized’
formulation
for
clinical
studies.
I
think
it
might
even
be
possible
for
someone
(probably
in
another
country)
to
do
a
study
like
that
with
the
pure
alkaloids
and
publish
it
somewhere,
then
those
data
could
be
used
to
propose
a
study
in
the
U.S.
with
that
same
formulation.”
So,
the
gauntlet
has
been
laid
down.
There
is
a
definite
way
ahead
for
science
to
explore
ayahuasca’s
widely
attested
healing
potential.
Do
the
groundwork
in
Europe
(where
restrictions
may
be
easier
to
surmount)
and
then
eventually
extend
the
research
into
the
USA.
What
may
become
of
such
a
radical
science
agenda?
If,
that
is,
ayahuasca’s
healing
efficacy
and
safety
were
clearly
ascertained
and
endorsed?
Might
we
see
therapy
centres
dotted
about
the
globe,
places
where
one
could
go
to
find
a
kind
of
healing
not
available
elsewhere?
Centres
to
refresh
and
revitalize
the
spirit
and
potentiate
one’s
‘higher
self’.
Perhaps
the
real
question
is
why
ever
not?
Simon
G.
Powell
is
the
author
of
the
The
Psilocybin
Solution
which
has
just
been
published
by
Park
Street
Press.
He
would
like
to
thank
Bill
Linton
for
supporting
the
creation
of
this
piece.
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