The Psychedelic Mystical Experience
in the Human Encounter
With Death
Walter N. Pahnke
©Psychedelic Review, Number 11, 1971
Introduction
THIS Spring I received a long distance
telephone call from Dean Samuel Miller, who invited me to give this year's
Ingersoll Lecture on human immortality. Three days later, Dean Miller was dead.
When I heard the sad news, I, as many of you no doubt, began to think about the
way he had influenced me, especially during my theological training here at
Harvard Divinity School. One of my most vivid memories was a point which he
emphasized in his class on Religion and Literature. Sam Miller felt strongly
that in our modern 20th century two of the most profound and important
experiences of human life are becoming more and more insulated from everyday
existence. These two experiences, birth and death, have the potential for
affecting the character and quality of the rest of life. But in each instance,
they are falling victim to modern technological efficiency and adding to the
process of dehumanization rather than counteracting it.
How
many mothers these days are awake and actively participating when giving birth
to their babies? And much more rare, how many fathers even are given the
opportunity to be present with their wives at the moment of birth? Certainly
there are times when medical emergencies make the presence of the father an
encumbrance and anesthesia to the point of unconsciousness a necessity for the
mother. But from my own experience delivering babies as a general practitioner
in a wilderness community in Alaska, most of the time an alert, participating
mother and father make human birth much more than just another medical procedure
to be mechanically processed. I have also been in the role of the father at the
birth of my own three children. Although I am a physician, it was nevertheless
difficult to find a hospital which would allow me to be present in the delivery
room. But I am tremendously glad that I was. Delivering someone else's baby
cannot compare to witnessing the birth of your own. This event made a profound
impact on me in regard to reverence for life.
If we turn now
to the other end of human life, my experience has taught me that a creative
emotional impact is possible in the events surrounding death in spite of the
tragedy and sadness. Unfortunately, we have become so "civilized" that death,
too, can be robbed of its function in revitalizing and energizing the rest of
life for those still alive.
What usually happens in our
culture when someone is terminally ill? First of all, the fact of death,
although uppermost in everyone's mind, is usually avoided. Talk in general is
diversionary, for example, about getting well or about superficial news in an
attempt to prevent any serious discussion of more profound issues. As the dying
patient's condition worsens, he may be subjected to a barrage of heroic
treatment measures which many times can prolong physical life, but also make
meaningful interpersonal contact difficult or impossible. The patient is rarely
given a chance to express his feelings about how or where he would like to die,
e.g., at home or in the hospital. How could he, when the whole issue of death is
somehow avoided? Then, as the moment of death approaches and the patient is put
on the danger list, family members can stay with him outside of usual visiting
hours, but many times this is subtly discouraged because it can interfere with
hospital routine. Sometimes frantic last minute efforts to "revive" the patient
are carried out behind drawn white curtains with the family excluded. When death
finally and inevitably comes, whether at home or in the hospital, the body is
quickly removed by the undertaker, who then proceeds to make the corpse look "as
lifelike" as possible. Our costly and elaborate funeral procedures seem intent
on disguising the fact of death and somehow insulating the survivors from its
impact.
In contrast, consider what happened in other days
before our society became so removed from these primary experiences of birth and
death. Most babies were born and most people died in their own homes. In the
case of death, this meant the preparation of the body for burialthe tasks of
bathing, dressing, and grooming-was done by members of the family. This
psychological experience was inescapable and profound. Although I believe that a
return to more participation in the process of birth is important and can be
done in the desirable safety of a hospital setting, I am not suggesting that the
elimination of morticians is either desirable or necessary. But perhaps more
attention to the events preceding and surrounding the moment of death would add
dignity and meaning to this potentially powerful experience.
The Situation of the Terminal Cancer Patient
I do not know
how many of you here today have had a primary exposure to someone whom you knew
well and intimately who was dying of cancer, but at best this is a grim
situation. What do we usually find happening? In my work with such patients I
have become keenly aware of the fear, depression, anxiety, loneliness, and
suffering which are usually present.
There is a certain degree
of underlying fear on the part of everyone involved-not only the patient
himself, but also his family and friends, the nurses, and even the doctors. This
fear manifests itself in many ways, both consciously and unconsciously, and is
basically a fear of the unknown. No matter how much we have been told about
death, its implications for life, or what might follow afterwards, down deep we
all know that some day each one of us must face this experience as an individual
at the end of his own life. This is a very personal thing, and one that can stir
deep emotions in any person who is involved even as an observer. Thus, it is not
surprising that frequently in this situation the fear is expressed by an
avoidance of the issue in many ways, some subtle and some not so subtle. There
is hesitation to tell the dying person the gravity of the condition, especially
if his diagnosis is cancer. Doctors many times advise the distraught family not
to tell. The implication is that the patient psychologically could not take such
ominous news and would disintegrate under the stress. A common rationalization
is that hope would be taken away and the patient plunged into a deep depression.
The assumption is made for the patient that if he knew the truth, a bad
situation would automatically be made worse. By this line of reasoning, any show
of powerful emotions, even though genuine, is to be avoided at all costs because
the patient cannot take it. But what the family really means is that they
themselves are afraid to face the fact of death. Undoubtedly, such a course of
action, though admittedly dishonest, seems justified by the situation "for the
patient's own good" and is many times the easiest thing to do at first. The
patient's direct questions, if any, are parried with cheerful reassurance or
adroitly avoided by changing the subject or avowing ignorance. Nurses can do the
same or, if cornered, can refer the patient to his doctor, who can fill the time
spent with the patient during medical rounds with questions about details of
bowel function, appetite, and pain control.
But what does the
patient think and feel about these happenings? At first he may believe
everything he is told, especially because it is what he would like to think, but
as his condition worsens into a progressively downhill course, he may realize
more and more that something more serious is occurring. In spite of the natural
defense of denial, which can sustain some patients for a while, he will begin to
wonder if he is being told the truth. If the pretense is continued, and
sometimes at this point it is even intensified, the patient will be getting a
powerful nonverbal message to avoid the issue. The fears of the family will also
be communicated and will reinforce the patient's own private anxiety. Picking up
the emotional turmoil of the family in spite of attempts to hide it, the patient
wonders what they really know, but out of concern for them chooses not to bring
up issues which they are obviously avoiding. Each side then attempts the heroic
posture of protecting the other from what is imagined to be too difficult to
bear.
The more this dishonesty is perpetuated, the more
difficult it is to face the issues, and the more desperate the situation
becomes. Family members wonder what the patient will think of them if he finally
finds out that such vital information has been withheld. It is almost as if the
participants really believed that not talking about something unpleasant would
make it magically disappear.
Perhaps the most devastating
effect of such deception, even when done with the honest intention of trying to
make the patient's burden lighter, is to increase the patient's psychological
isolation. At the very time when the welfare and support of those closest to him
could help him the most he feels cut off at a basic level because his trust is
undermined. He cannot even talk about the things which concern him deeply. In
actuality the emotional pressure is increased for both patient and family at
this deadly game of pretense is played out.
It is no wonder
that under such circumstances most patients become depressed. With cancer
patients the usual downhill course also involves an increase in pain and
suffering. When this is treated with increasing doses of narcotic pain-killing
drugs, there is increased clouding of consciousness. Aldous Huxley in his last
novel, Island, describes the all too common situation for the dying
cancer patient as increasing pain, increasing anxiety, increasing morphine,
increasing addiction, increasing demandingness, with the ultimate disintegration
of personality and loss of the opportunity to die with dignity. (1) To
this list I would add psychological isolation, withdrawal, and depression.
The LSD research in which I have engaged for the last few
years has been an attempt to alter this dehumanization in the course of events
prior to death. How, you may ask, can the use of LSD, a powerful and sometimes
dangerous psychoactive drug, be of any value to a person who may soon be dead?
Don't these poor patients have enough drugs already anti-cancer medicines,
pain-killing narcotics, tranquilizers, and anti-depressants, to mention only a
few?
Review of Some Basic Facts About
LSD and Psychedelic
Experiences
In order to discuss these questions in
perspective, the psychological phenomena which can occur when LSD is
administered to human beings needs to be kept in mind. Five kinds of potential
psychedelic experiences have been described in detail with examples elsewhere.
(2,3)
Let me briefly review these.
First is the psychotic
psychedelic experience characterized by the intense negative experience of
fear to the point of panic, paranoid delusions of suspicion or grandeur, total
confusion, impairment of abstract reasoning, remorse, depression, isolation,
and/or somatic discomfort; all of these can be of very powerful magnitude.
Second is the pschodynamic psychedelic experience
characterized by a dramatic emergence into consciousness of material that has
previously been unconscious or preconscious. Abreaction and catharsis are
elements of what subjectively is experienced as an actual reliving of incidents
from the past or a symbolic portrayal of important conflicts.
Third is the cognitive psychedelic experience, characterized by
astonishing lucid thought. Problems can be seen from a novel perspective, and
the inner relationships of many levels or dimensions can be seen all at once.
The creative experience may have something in common with this kind of
psychedelic experience, but such a possibility must await the results of future
investigation.
Fourth is the aesthetic psychedelic
experience, characterized by a change and intensification of all sensory
modalities. Fascinating changes in sensations and perception can occur:
synesthesia in which sounds can be "seen," objects such as flowers or stones
that appear to pulsate and become "alive," ordinary things that seem imbued with
great beauty, music that takes on an incredible emotional power, and visions of
beautiful colors, intricate geometric patterns, architectural forms, landscapes,
and almost anything imaginable.
The fifth and last type of
psychedelic experience may ultimately prove to be the most valuable and is the
focus in regard to treatment of the dying patient. This experience has been
called by various names: psychedelic-peak; cosmic, transcendental, or
mystical. Nine universal psychological characteristics were derived from
a study of the literature of spontaneous mystical experience reported throughout
world history from almost all cultures and religions. When subjected to a
scientific experiment, these characteristics proved to be identical for
spontaneous and psychedelic mystical experiences. (4,5)
1. Unity is a sense of cosmic oneness achieved through
positive ego transcendence. Although the usual sense of identity, or ego, fades
away, consciousness and memory are not lost; instead, the person becomes very
much aware of being part of a dimension much vaster and greater than himself. In
addition to the route of the "inner world" where external sense impressions are
left behind, unity can also be experienced through the external world, so that a
person reports that he feels a part of everything that is (for example, objects,
other people, or the universe), or more simply, that "all is One."
2. Transcendence of Time and Space means that the subject feels
beyond past, present, and future, and beyond ordinary three-dimension space in a
realm of eternity or infinity.
3. Deeply Felt Positive
Mood contains the elements of joy, blessedness, peace and love to an
overwhelming degree of intensity, often accompanied by tears.
4. Sense of Sacredness is a nonrational, intuitive, hushed, palpitant
response of awe and wonder in the presence of inspiring Reality. The main
elements are awe, humility, and reverence, but the terms of traditional theology
or religion need not necessarily be used in the description.
5. The Noetic Quality, as named by William James, (6) is
a feeling of insight or illumination that, on an intuitive, nonrational level
and with a tremendous force of certainty, subjectively has the status of
Ultimate Reality. This knowledge is not an increase of facts but is a gain in
psychological, philosophical, or theological insight.
6.
Paradoxicality refers to the logical contradictions that become apparent
if descriptions are strictly analyzed. A person may realize that he is
experiencing, for example, an "identity of opposites," yet it seems to make
sense at the time, and also afterwards.
7. Alleged
ineffability means that the experience is felt to be beyond words,
non-verbal, and impossible to describe; yet most persons who insist on the
ineffability do in fact make elaborate attempts to communicate the experience.
8. Transiency means that the psychedelic peak does not
last in its full intensity, but instead passes into an afterglow and remains
only as a memory.
9. Persisting Positive Changes in
Attitudes and Behavior are toward self, others, life, and the experience
itself.
All the research I have done with psychedelic drugs
for the past six years supports the hypothesis that the kind of experience is
strongly dependent upon the necessary drug dosage, but only as a trigger or
facilitating agent, and upon the crucial extra-drug variables of set and
setting. Psychological set refers to factors within the subject, such as
personality, life history, expectation, preparation, mood prior to the session,
and, perhaps most important of all the ability to trust, to let go, and to be
open to whatever comes. The setting refers to factors outside the individual,
such as the physical environment in which the drug is taken, the psychological
and emotional atmosphere to which the subject is exposed, how he is treated by
those around him, and what the experimenter expects the drug reaction will be.
Elements of all these kinds of psychedelic experiences may
appear in any one psychedelic session, but the psychedelic mystical experience
is the most rare, being achieved by only 25 to 50 per cent of subjects, even
under the most optimal conditions of set and setting. The more control that is
gained over these variables, the more predictable is the chance of obtaining the
psychedelic mystical experience, but it is by no means automatic. Yet when such
an event is experienced and then adequately integrated, it can provide the
fulcrum for transformations of attitude and behavior.
The Procedure of Psychedelic Psychotherapy
in our Current Research with
the Dying Patient
At the Sinai Hospital in Baltimore,
Maryland. we have been assessing the impact of psychedelic psychotherapy
utilizing LSD, in the management of terminal cancer patients. (7) An
LSD session is imbedded within the matrix of brief intensive psychotherapy.
Every effort is made to maximize the possibility for the psychedelic mystical
experience to occur.
After a patient is referred for the
special treatment, he is screened both by psychiatric interviews and by
psychological tests. Then an informed consent is obtained in writing from both
the patient and his closest relative. By informed consent, I mean that the
nature and aim of the research are explained, including the possible risks and
benefits. Because of the sensationalism in the mass media about the dangers of
LSD, most patients do not suffer from lack of information about risks. In fact,
their exaggerated ideas make a positive preparation more difficult, and some
patients who might benefit greatly refuse to participate in the research because
of fear. Most patients are surprised to learn that the safety record of LSD when
given by trained personnel under medically controlled conditions is comparable
to that of other commonly used psychiatric procedures. (8)
Patients are told that LSD will not cure their physical
illness, hut may give them more emotional strength to cope with what lies ahead.
Usually control of pain is one of the presenting problems. Although most of our
patients have some degree of physical pain, we try to emphasize that the
analgesic effect of LSD cannot he guaranteed and is not the main reason for the
treatment.
After consent is obtained, preparation for the LSD
session begins in the form of intensive individual psychotherapy for 8 to 10
hours. The aim is to get to know the person in as much depth as possible by
reviewing his life story and his important past and current interpersonal
relationships. Into this discussion inevitably come his philosophy of life,
religious experiences, and hopes for the future. No attempt is made to force a
discussion of diagnosis or prognosis: but any indication of a desire to explore
these areas is sensitively dealt with in a way appropriate to each individual.
Above all the development of deep rapport and trust is essential before LSD can
he safely given.
Family members, too, are drawn into the
therapy both individually and in groups, with and without the patient. Some of
the issues discussed are positive and negative feelings, the quality of
interpersonal relationships, communication with the patient, fear of death, and
concern about the future. Their questions and fears about LSD also must be
aired.
Finally, after days of preparations when the patient is
deemed ready, LSD is administered in a private hospital room, decorated with
flowers and objects which have meaning for the patient. The therapist who has
worked with the patient and a trained psychiatric nurse are in constant
attendance throughout the 10-to 12-hour session. For most of the day, the
patient listens to classical music through stereophonic high fidelity earphones.
The purpose of the music is to help him let go of his usual ego controls and
experience the unusual emotional awareness which is possible under these
conditions of altered brain physiology.
In the evening, when
the LSD effects have waned, the closest family members visit the patient. These
times can be an opportunity for a gratifying emotional interchange. In the days
after the session, the patient is helped to integrate new experiences, feelings,
and insights.
Results of our Research
With this procedure thus far, we
have treated only 17 patients in a pilot study with no control group. (9)
While not much weight can be given to our tentative findings in any scientific
sense some results can be mentioned to stimulate our thinking in regard to our
subject here today-man's approach to death and what may lie beyond.
Bearing in mind the inconclusiveness of our impressions, what have we
seen following the combined procedure of LSD plus associated psychotherapy when
measured against the situation encountered at the beginning of treatment? First,
no patients seemed to have been harmed, even those who were physically quite
ill. In general, about one-third of the patients were not particularly helped,
one-third w ere helped somewhat, and one-third were helped dramatically.
Let us look at the direction of the change, especially in
those patients who were helped the most. The LSD session seemed to provide the
focus around which a new situation could evolve in the milieu provided by the
psychotherapy. The most dramatic effects came in the wake of psychedelic
mystical experience. There was a decrease in fear, anxiety, worry, and
depression. Sometimes the need for pain medications was lessened, but mainly
because the patient was able to tolerate what pain he had more easily. There was
an increase in serenity, peace, and calmness. Most striking was a decrease in
the fear of death. It seem as if the mystical experience, by opening the patient
to usually untapped ranges of human consciousness, can provide a sense of
security that transcends even death. Once the patient is able to release all the
psychic energy which he has tied to the fear of death and worry about the
future, he seems able to live more meaningfully in the present. He can turn his
attention to the things which have the most significance in the here and now.
This change of attitude has an effect on all the people around him. The depth
and intensity of interpersonal closeness can be increased so that honesty and
courage emerge in a joint confrontation and acceptance of the total situation.
Let me illustrate some of the things I have seen by describing
an actual case. A 49-year-old woman with inoperable cancer of the pancreas was
brought to the hospital by her husband and daughter when they could no longer
tolerate her increasing agony because of the intractable pain that was not
satisfactorily controlled by narcotic drugs. At this point, she was more like a
whimpering animal than a human being. In my work with the family it soon became
apparent that they were not only at the end of their rope in regard to physical
management of the patient but were becoming increasingly concerned lest the
patient discover the true nature of her "tumor" and become even more depressed
than she already was. After I had gained his confidence, the husband one day
asked me directly if I did not think that "mercy killing" was the most humane
solution in such cases.
After the usual period of screening
and preparation, the patient was given an LSD session that was filled with
religious symbolism and during which the patient reviewed many events of her
life. During part of the day the patient strongly felt the presence of God and,
through this experience, a sense of release from guilt feelings about certain of
her past actions. Although the patient did not have a complete psychedelic
mystical experience, she carried a definite degree of psychedelic afterglow into
the evening fleeting with her family. Her mood was brighter, and they noticed
increased relaxation and peace of mind. Her pain although still present, was
controlled with narcotic drugs and did not have the same disabling quality as
before admission to the hospital.
A few days after her LSD
session, as I was sitting by her bedside, the patient asked me directly,
"Doctor, I have been wondering what really is the matter with me. Do I have
cancer?" In this particular case the patient's personal physician had advised me
that neither he nor the family had felt it wise to discuss the diagnosis. I
asked the patient if she had discussed the matter with her doctor. "I have tried
to," she said, "but everyone avoids my questions. I think I do have cancer,
because if I didn't they would say so directly." I then proceeded to explore
with the patient the meaning of such a diagnosis for her if it were, indeed
true. Discussing the question posed in this half-hypothetical manner, the
patient indicated that if she did have cancer, she would have to learn to live
with it and accept it as a fact of her life. At that very moment we heard the
voice of the patient's physician in the hallway. The patient asked me to get
him. After I had advised him of the nature of the preceding discussion, we
entered the room together. Without too much hesitation, the patient posed for
him the same question she had asked me, "Is this tumor that I have a cancer?" He
answered, "Well, it's cancerous." "But is it a cancer?" she insistently asked.
When he indicated that it was, she gave a sigh and said: "Well, it's a relief to
know what I really have, even though it isn't good news." Then she asked with
some concern: "Do my family know and have they known all along?" He nodded, and
she sank back on the bed half in amusement and half in disgust, saying, "And
they wouldn't even tell me."
In talking with the husband and
daughter that afternoon, I informed them what had happened. The news upset them
even when they learned that the patient had taken it calmly. They felt unmasked
and wondered how they could face the patient. They could not quite believe that
she could have accepted it so well and felt that there would be an emotional
"scene." After discussing their feeling about the issue, I suggested that we go
and see the patient together. As we neared the room, the daughter became visibly
upset and at the doorway refused to go in. After more discussion she reluctantly
agreed, and we entered the room together.
As soon as the
patient saw her husband, she smiled and said: "Well, I guess you know now that
I'm going to die." With this the husband broke down and began to sob
uncontrollably. The patient stretched out her arms inviting him to come to her
bedside. She took him in her arms and consoled him, explaining
that we all have to die sometime, that she was grateful for what life had given
her, and that she was sure they would all get through this together. A sense of
relief and intense interpersonal closeness pervaded the room.
Before the patient left the hospital she had a second LSD session. This time one
of the major concerns that she explored was the way she would explain to her
young grandchildren what was happening to her and what the ultimate outcome
would be. This was an issue which the daughter had also discussed with me. She
wondered whether she should even let the children see their grandmother, who was
becoming progressively emaciated. During the LSD session the patient had a
vision of all her grandchildren standing by her beside. She had a very intense
experience of positive emotional feelings of love which she had for these
children and yet was able to come to a resolution of what she could share with
them in the days ahead.
After discharge from the hospital, the
patient's husband and daughter were able to care for her satisfactorily at home
during the month before she died. Her pain was now adequately controlled with
the aid of narcotics, but the daughter remarked on how much better her mother
seemed to be able to bear the pain than previously. The patient was able to see
her grandchildren for some time each day, and they understood what was happening
as she got progressively weaker. They took this opportunity to discuss with her
some of their own questions about death, and particularly her own death.
Discussion
At this point let us turn our attention to the
question of why the psychedelic mystical experience seems to help these
patients. I suggest that this experience has the potential for opening up the
channels of positive feeling which may have been previously closed or clogged.
Our experiments have indicated that deep within every human being there are vast
usually untapped resources of love, joy, and peace. One aspect of the
psychedelic mystical experience is a release of these positive feelings with
subsequent decrease in negative feelings of depression, despair, and anxiety.
But this shift in mood is not enough to account for our most dramatic
finding-loss of the fear of death. In fact, the experience of deeply felt
positive mood may be more the result than the cause of this change in attitude
toward death. Our data show that these feelings are released most fully when
there is complete surrender to the ego-loss experience of positive ego
transcendence, which is often experienced as a moment of death and rebirth. At
this point, unless the patient previously had experienced mystical consciousness
spontaneously, he becomes intensely aware of completely new dimensions of
experience which he might never before have imagined possible. From his own
personal experience, he now knows that there is more to the potential range of
human consciousness than we ordinarily realize. This profound and awe-inspiring
insight sometimes is experienced as if a veil had been lifted and can transform
attitude and behavior. Once a person has had this vision, life and death can be
looked at from a new perspective. Patients seem able to meet the unknown with a
new sense of self-confidence and security. Logical arguments that human
experience must be limited to the narrow range of ordinary human consciousness
never can have the same force again. One patient, after his LSD experience,
wondered how he could have been so worried about death, which now seemed to be
just another step in the life process. Others frankly and calmly stated that
they would be "ready to go" when the time to die came. This degree of acceptance
and willingness to face the unknown ahead was in strong contrast to the
atmosphere of fear among the family and patient before psychedelic psychotherapy
was started.
Before discussing the relevance of the
psychedelic mystical experience to immortality it would be well to review what
William James said in his Ingersoll Lecture 70 years ago. (10)
In his view the brain is a filter of consciousness which transmits part of the
Vaster Consciousness of Reality, like a partially opaque glass allowing through
a few rays of a super solar blaze. The "degree of opacity" or threshold of brain
activity can vary so that under certain conditions "more light" or an awareness
of a wider and more intense range of consciousness is possible. According to
this hypothesis, the physical brain is necessary only as a means to transmit a
part of this Larger Consciousness into the dimension of ordinary reality
perceived by individual normal waking consciousness. If an individual brain is
damaged, disintegrates, or dies, this Larger Consciousness does not cease.
The interesting thing is that our LSD patients who have had
the psychedelic mystical experience and who previously knew nothing of this
transmission theory are supplying data which precisely fit this hypothesis.
Their threshold seems to be lowered so that they directly experience this Vaster
Consciousness in an Eternal Now, beyond time and space. Again and again we are
told that this experience subjectively occurs "out of the body."
But what is the relationship of individual self-consciousness of the
abiding presence of this Vaster Consciousness? William James did not settle this
question nor can I, but again the psychedelic mystical experience may provide
some clues. During the mystical experience when the experiencer has lost
individuality and become a part of a Reality Greater-than-self, paradoxically,
something of the self remains to record the experience in memory. One of the
greatest fears about human death is that personal individual existence and
memory will be gone forever. Yet having passed through psychological ego death
in the mystical experience, a person still preserves enough self-consciousness
so that at least part of individual memory is not lost. In comparison, the loss
of other attributes of individuality such as bodily sensations and personal ego
accomplishments do not appear too important. It is at least suggestive that
persons experiencing mystical consciousness do not feel that they have "lost"
anything crucial-in fact, a common report is that they have "come home" and
regained proper perspective.
By now I hope it is clear that
LSD used in conjunction with psychedelic psychotherapy is not another
chemo-therapeutic method to achieve a euphoric death, such as increasing doses
of painkillers which have a dulling effect on consciousness. With such narcotics
an escape is provided from harsh and painful reality, but such cherished human
experiences as love and interpersonal closeness are not particularly enhanced.
If the fear surrounding death is dealt with at all, it is by sedating the
patient so much that he may be unaware of what is really happening.
In contrast, when LSD is judiciously used, the mind becomes more active
and alert. Problems concerning death can be dealt with rather than escaped from.
Positive emotions can be released in the service of deepened interpersonal
relationships. An important distinction is that LSD is not used on a continuing
basis. The purpose is not to keep the patient continuously under the effect of
LSD. One treatment is sometimes enough to make a lasting difference. Even
repeated treatments are spaced to allow time for meaningful integration of the
experience. Our data thus far have indicated that the earlier LSD is given in
the course of the disease, the better chance there is for the patient to utilize
any insights gained. Although the treatment may prepare a patient for death, the
quality of living in the days before death can be also affected.
Let me illustrate: one of our patients with metastatic breast cancer had
a son in his early twenties. His first bitter reaction when the possibility of
LSD treatment was mentioned was, "What do you want to do, make my mother die
with a smile on her face?" Much to his surprise, the most important effect of
the treatment was to establish their somewhat ruptured relationship on a new
creative level. Now, five months after her only treatment, this patient is still
working on the implications of this positive change in her family situation.
Does this treatment threaten to manipulate the human mind in
an unethical and dehumanizing manner? If by manipulation we mean that human
begins are used for purposes to which they neither consent nor understand, the
answer is no. Just the opposite is true. The goal is to help the patient become
more fully human and able to use the last days of his life in a meaningful
way-in fact, a way which highlights the very things most basic and important:
human love, sharing, closeness, and thoughtful reflection about the meaning and
events of human life. As one of our patients put it: "You get a clear picture of
what is important and what isn't. All the rushing around and the worry about
keeping my house neat was so unimportant compared to the expression of feelings
toward my family. I now fully realize that the core of life is love."
In an ethical consideration of any new experimental procedure, the
proportionate degree of risk compared to the potential benefit must be
considered. From what we have seen in our research so far, the benefits in human
terms have been impressive, the risks minimal. The danger of LSD depends on how
it is used. As Dr. Albert Kurland, who is responsible for all the LSD projects
at the Maryland Psychiatric Research Center, has indicated, the role of LSD in
therapy is like that of a scalpel in surgical intervention: the scalpel is
helpful, but without the skilled surgeon it is merely a dangerous instrument. (11)
One consequence of the mystical experience is the inevitable
attempt to make intellectual sense of it. The primary psychological experience
must be interpreted. While some persons use such symbols as a More, a Beyond, or
the Ground of Being, other speak of the presence of God as the most adequate
reflection of what was encountered. The fact that this experience was triggered
or facilitated with a drug may cause some to feel uneasy. The troublesome
implication seems to be that God can thus be controlled, limited, or
manipulated. Yet the psychedelic mystical experience is by no means automatic,
and there are many unexplained factors. All chemical substances, including LSD,
are part of God's creation. Man, of course, has the freedom to misuse or abuse
them, but the use of LSD to give comfort to the dying patient hardly seems an
abuse. For man to decide that God cannot work through any part of his creation
would be to limit the freedom and omnipotence of God. (12)
That such profound experiences are possible with the aid of a
drug may seem on first impression to be an easy and somewhat sacrilegious means
of "instant salvation." On the contrary, much intensive preparation is needed
for the psychedelic mystical experience to occur at all. Then, perhaps even more
importantly, the work of follow-up integration is necessary for the experience
to be therapeutically useful rather than only a pleasant memory. Yet,
subjectively, there is also a profound feeling of gratitude because such an
experience seems undeserved. The concept of gratuitous grace as another example
of God's freedom is appropriate here.
The mystical experience
itself by emphasizing an immediate perception of the Divine dimension has
historically met opposition from the church. Mysticism has also always been
accused of pantheism. Yet the indwelling of the Spirit is as deeply rooted in
Christian tradition as the absolute transcendence of God.
Implications
What implications would there be if further
research substantiates the promise that psychedelic psychotherapy has shown in
the treatment of the dying patient? In my own work I have welcomed the
collaboration of religious professionals, part of whose job is ministering to
the dying. In our modern age this task has become increasingly difficult because
of the growing dissatisfaction with traditional formulations and beliefs. The
psychedelic mystical experience has the potential for opening up new ways of
thinking and feeling. Patients are eager to discuss the meaning of these new
insights, many of which are imbedded in religious symbolism. Ministers, priests,
and rabbis, if they have some understanding of the use of psychedelic drugs, can
be of tremendous help in integrating these experiences.
In the
future it might be possible to establish centers where dying patients could be
sent to have a psychedelic experience in the most optimal setting. The staff of
such a place would include psychiatrists, psychologists, and religious
professionals. This suggestion is not as utopian as it might sound. Dr. Cecily
Saunders in England has already pioneered a successful center where medical
treatment is given to keep dying patients as comfortable as possible in their
last days. (13)
LSD has not been tried there, but adequate doses of alcohol and heroin are used
to combat depression and pain. Our preliminary results suggest that psychedelic
drugs might accomplish much more. Certainly this hypothesis can be tested
experimentally.
If the use of psychedelic psychotherapy for
the dying patient ever should become widespread in our society, there would
probably be a change in our whole approach toward death. There might be less
fear and more acceptance of this part of the life process. Certainly more
honesty and less pretense would be a healthy change for our culture.
Conclusion
Although the question of human immortality may
always remain a tantalizing enigma. the psychedelic mystical experience at least
teaches that there is more to the range of human consciousness than we might
ordinarily assume. Because the answer cannot be definitely proved either way,
there is certainly no cause for pessimistic despair. Perhaps it is not so
unfortunate that each person must ultimately find out for himself. The
psychedelic mystical experience can prepare one to face that moment with a sense
of open adventure.
Footnotes
1 Aldous HUXLEY,
Island (New York: Harper & Row 1962). (back)
2 WALTER N. PAHNKE, and WILLIAM A.
RICHARDS Implications of LSD and Experimental Mysticism, Journal of Religion
and Health 5 (1966), 175-208. (back)
3 WALTER N. PAHNKE, LSD and Religious
Experience In LSD, Man and Society. Leaf and Debold (ed.) (Middletown,
Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 1967)
4 WALTER N. PAHNKE, Drugs and Mysticism: An Analysis of the
Relationship between Psychedelic Drugs ant the Mystical Consciousness.
Unpublished Ph.D. thesis Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University, 1963. (back)
5 For a summary of this experiment, see
WALTER N PAHNKE, The Contribution of the Psychology of Religion to the
Therapeutic Use of the Psychedelic Substances, in The Use of LSD in
Psychotherapy and Alcoholism, H. A ABRAMSON (ed.) (Indianapolis:
Bobbs-Merrill, 1967) 629-52.
6 WILLIAM
JAMES, The Varieties of Religious Experience (Modern Library Edition)
(New York: Random House, 1902), 371f. (back)
7 A. KURLAND, W. PAHNKE, S. UNGER, and
C. SAVAGE Psychedelic Therapy (Utilizing LSD) with Terminal Cancer Patients,
Journal of Psychopharmacology Vol. II (in press, 1968). (back)
8 In the several large-scale research
projects which have been approved by the U.S. Government in the last few years,
permanent adverse effects have been quite rare. At the Spring Grove State
Hospital, for example, over 300 patients have been treated with LSD without a
single case of long-term psychological or physical harm directly attributable to
the treatment, although there have been two transient post-LSD disturbances
which have subsequently responded well to conventional treatment. (back)
9 The fact that there was no control
group against which to measure these results immediately raises the possibility
that our findings were due to powerful suggestion implemented by the intensive
psychotherapy rather than anything to do with the administration of LSD. It
might be argued that a placebo control group would attain the same results, but
other experimental evidence concerning the occurrence of psychedelic mystical
experience tends to cast some doubt on this argument. In two previous series of
psychedelic drug experiments that I have helped to plan and supervise, double
blind control groups were utilized. In each instance the psychedelic
mystical experience occurred to a statistically significant degree in those
persons who received a high dose of psilocybin when compared to control groups
which had exactly the same preparation, expectation, and suggestion, but
received only a placebo or control substance with active physiological effects.
(W. N. PAHNKE, thesis, op. cit.; and W. N. PAHNKE, LSD and Religious
Experience, op. cit.)
Consideration of the powerful
placebo effect is certainly important. Recent research has demonstrated that
giving LSD mainly as a chemotherapy without adequate preparation and suggestion
does not provide any advantage over psychotherapy alone in the treatment of
alcoholism. (A LUDWIG, J. LEVINE, and L. STARK, A Clinical Evaluation of LSD
Treatment in Alcoholism, Paper presented to the American Psychiatric Association
meeting in Boston, Massachusetts, May 15, 1968.)
This finding
underlines the importance of utilizing suggestion to the maximum in combination
with LSD as has been our practice. For example, at the Spring Grove State
Hospital in Baltimore, the double blind control study of psychedelic peak
therapy utilizing LSD has demonstrated that one out of four alcoholics who
received 450 micrograms of LSD had a profound mystical experience compared to
one out of ten who received only 50 micrograms (total N = 122). Both groups
received exactly the same amount of pre-LSD psychotherapy and identical
preparation for the LSD session. In this particular study the results in terms
of clinical outcome are not yet completely evaluated, but early trends in the
data show that those patients who had a profound psychedelic peak experience
achieved greater clinical improvement. (A. KURLAND, S. UNGER, C. SAVAGE, J.
OLSSON, W. PAHNKE, Psychedelic Therapy Utilizing LSD in the Treatment of the
Alcoholic Patient: A Progress Report paper presented to the American Psychiatric
Association meeting in Boston, Massachusetts, May 15, 1968.)
Thus, in the research with cancer patients there is reason to suppose that the
beneficial results observed are not due to either the psycho-pharmacological
effects of LSD or the placebo effect (suggestion and preparation) alone,
but rather a combination of set, setting, and drug. For the best results it
seems essential that the placebo effect be utilized to the utmost in conjunction
with the psychedelic drug which is then seen to be a necessary, but not
sufficient, condition. (back)
10 WILLIAM JAMES, Human Immortality:
Two Supposed Objections to the Doctrine, The Ingersoll Lecture on Human
Immortality, 1898, in William James on Psychical Research, GARDNER MURPHY
and ROBERT BALLOU (eds.) (New York: The Viking Press, 1960), 279-308. (back)
11 ALBERT A. KURLAND, with CHARLES
SAVAGE, JOHN W. SHAFFER, and SANFORD UNGER, The Therapeutic Potential of LSD in
Medicine, in LSD, Man and Society, LEAF and DEBOLD (ed.) (Middletown,
Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 1968), 34. (back)
12 Those who have lived fully and
deeply know that suffering can have a redemptive value in terms of personal
growth and understanding. Yet in my medical experience the slow and tortuous
devastation to the human spirit caused by the usual course of terminal cancer is
mostly on the negative side. Reflecting my bias as a physician dedicated to the
alleviation of suffering, I do not feel that this kind of emotional and physical
torment serves much useful purpose. For this reason, I feel that the addition of
psychedelic drugs to the medical armamentarium against human suffering cannot be
objected to on the grounds that man has no right to interfere with an element of
human life which may serve a useful purpose in God's plan for man's development.
Such an argument is too similar to the theological objections raised against the
introduction of smallpox vaccination or the invention of rapid transportation.
(back)
13 CECILY SAUNDERS, The Treatment of
Intractable Pain in Terminal Cancer, Proceedings of the Royal Society of
Medicine, Vol. 56, No. 3 (March, 1963), 191-97. (back)