How to Change Your Mind

The History and Revival of Psychedelic Science

Midway through the twentieth century, two molecules arrived in the West that would eventually challenge our understanding of the human mind. One was the accidental creation of a Swiss chemist looking for a circulatory stimulant, while the other was an ancient fungal sacrament used by indigenous peoples in Mexico for centuries. These substances, LSD and psilocybin, promised a revolution in psychiatry before being driven underground by a wave of moral panic. For decades, they were dismissed as dangerous relics of the counterculture, but a quiet renaissance has recently begun to reclaim their medical potential.

The story of these molecules is one of discovery and rediscovery. Albert Hofmann, working in a laboratory in 1943, experienced the world’s first acid trip after accidentally absorbing a minute amount of lysergic acid diethylamide. A few years later, an amateur mycologist named R. Gordon Wasson introduced the magic mushroom to the American public through the pages of a popular magazine. For a brief window in the 1950s, the psychiatric establishment viewed these compounds as miracle drugs for treating alcoholism and depression.

For Michael Pollan, a child of the moral panic that followed the 1960s, these substances remained a source of fear until he reached his fifties. He found himself leading a life defined by comfortable but rigid mental habits and a default mode of consciousness that felt increasingly repetitive. The prospect of shaking up his mind became attractive as he learned about new research using psilocybin to treat terminal cancer patients. He began to wonder if these molecules might offer more to older adults whose mental habits have already set like cement.

The modern revival of this science began in earnest in 2006, marked by three pivotal events. First, Albert Hofmann celebrated his hundredth birthday, still sharp and advocating for the spiritual value of his discovery. Second, the Supreme Court ruled that a small religious sect could legally use a psychedelic tea as a sacrament. Finally, a rigorous study from Johns Hopkins University proved that psilocybin could reliably induce mystical experiences with lasting personal meaning, signaling to the scientific world that this research was no longer off-limits.

At the center of this new wave is Roland Griffiths, a highly respected psychopharmacologist who spent most of his career studying drug addiction. Griffiths was an unlikely candidate for this work because he was a strict behaviorist who focused on measurable data. However, a personal awakening through meditation led him to wonder if science could explore the mysteries of consciousness. He teamed up with a visionary former technology executive and a psychologist who had guided psychedelic sessions in the 1960s to bridge the gap between rigorous science and spiritual experience.

The session room at Johns Hopkins is designed to feel like a comfortable living room rather than a sterile laboratory. Volunteers are given instructions that encourage them to trust the trajectory of the drug and go toward anything that seems scary. If they encounter a terrifying vision, they are told to step toward it and ask what it is doing in their mind. This preparation helps transform what could be a terrifying experience into a profound breakthrough, allowing volunteers to find that their deepest fears dissolve into a sense of overwhelming peace.