Psychedelic Science in : From Enthusiasm to Scepticism

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been low-key obsessed with those weird, altered states of consciousness. You know, like when you think you’re having an out-of-body experience, or you’re convinced that spooky stuff is totally real, or you’re glued to the History Channel watching documentaries about religious visions. Yeah, that was me. Total nerd alert, right?

So, naturally, I went on to study psychology and neuroscience because I *had* to know what was going on in the brain to make these experiences happen. Like, what makes some people more likely to have these totally bizarre, mind-bending moments than others? It’s a question that’s kept me up at night, for sure.

Fast forward to today, and I’m still chasing those answers. But somewhere along the way, my research took a detour straight into the world of psychedelics. And let me tell you, it’s been a wild ride.

The Allure of Psychedelic Research and the Search for Ultimate Reality

At first, I was all in on psychedelics. I mean, the idea that these substances could unlock hidden parts of the mind and maybe even give us a glimpse of some kind of ultimate reality? That’s the kind of stuff that gets a science nerd like me super pumped.

So, I ended up doing some research at Leiden University, one of the leading institutions studying these mind-altering substances. We even started our own lab, the PRSM lab, because why not? We wanted to dive deep into all of it – psychedelic experiences, religious experiences, spiritual experiences, mystical experiences – you name it, we wanted to understand it.

The Promise of Psychedelic Therapy: A New Dawn for Mental Health?

The vibe around psychedelics was seriously optimistic back then. There was this feeling that we were on the verge of something big, that these substances could be the key to treating all sorts of mental and physical problems. People were talking about feeling more connected to themselves, to others, even to the planet, after these experiences. It was like the Age of Aquarius had arrived a few decades late, but with better drugs.

And the research seemed promising, at least on the surface. Studies suggested that psychedelics could be effective in treating depression, anxiety, addiction, PTSD – you name it, there was a study for it. The media caught wind of it, of course, and suddenly everyone was talking about magic mushrooms and LSD like they were miracle cures. Michael Pollan’s book “How to Change Your Mind” became the unofficial bible of the movement, and the psychedelic renaissance was in full swing.

The Rise of Scepticism: Looking Beyond the Hype

But then, something funny happened. As I dug deeper into the research, my initial excitement started to wane. Don’t get me wrong, there were definitely some intriguing findings, but the more I learned, the more I started to see the cracks in the psychedelic pedestal.

It was like everyone was so caught up in the potential of these substances that they weren’t looking critically at the evidence. And trust me, when you start to actually scrutinize the research, a lot of it just doesn’t hold up to the hype.

The “Breaking Blind” Problem: Unraveling the Placebo Puzzle

One of the biggest issues I encountered was the whole “breaking blind” problem. Now, for those of you who aren’t scientists (no shame in that!), breaking blind basically means that in a study, the participants and/or the researchers figure out who’s getting the real treatment and who’s getting the placebo. And let me tell you, with psychedelics, it’s pretty darn difficult to keep things under wraps.

Think about it – these substances induce some pretty intense subjective effects. It’s kinda hard to convince someone they’re tripping balls when they’re actually just popping a sugar pill. So, you end up with this situation where people in the psychedelic group are like, “Yep, definitely feelin’ it,” and people in the placebo group are like, “Hmm, maybe I got the dud.” And that’s a problem, because it totally messes with the results.

It’s not just the participants, either. Even the therapists running these studies can unintentionally (or sometimes, intentionally) tip the scales. If a therapist knows someone is on, say, psilocybin, they might treat them differently or interpret their responses in a way that aligns with their expectations. It’s called experimenter bias, and it’s a real pain in the neck.

So, you’ve got the placebo effect going strong in the psychedelic group and the nocebo effect (the evil twin of the placebo effect) potentially rearing its ugly head in the placebo group. It’s enough to make your head spin faster than a gyroscope in a blender. The bottom line is that it makes it incredibly challenging to tease apart what’s actually due to the drug and what’s simply the power of expectation.

Rethinking the “Entropic Brain” Hypothesis: Are We Barking Up the Wrong Tree?

Another issue that’s been bugging me is the whole “entropic brain” hypothesis. Now, this theory has gained a lot of traction in the psychedelic community, and it basically suggests that these substances increase entropy in the brain. Entropy, in this context, is often described as a measure of disorder or randomness. The idea is that psychedelics shake things up, making the brain more flexible and less rigid in its thinking.

Sounds cool, right? Well, here’s the thing – the evidence supporting this hypothesis is, shall we say, less than robust. In fact, some studies have suggested that the changes in brain connectivity observed after taking psychedelics might actually be artifacts caused by vasoconstriction – basically, reduced blood flow to certain areas of the brain. And let’s be real, nobody wants a constricted brain.

On top of that, the whole concept of entropy as it relates to the brain is still pretty fuzzy. Like, how do you even measure the “disorder” of an organ as complex as the brain? It’s like trying to measure the chaos of a mosh pit – good luck with that.

So, while the “entropic brain” hypothesis makes for a compelling narrative, the reality is that it’s still just that – a hypothesis. We need a lot more research, and some serious methodological improvements, before we can say for sure what’s really going on.