The Setback of Halting Psychedelic Research in the 1970s for Science

“Before the 1970s’ war on drugs, there was a variety of promising research into therapeutic psychedelics.”

Adrià Voltà

In the early 1950s, notable figures in science, philosophy, culture, and politics—such as Albert Einstein, Carl Jung, and Graham Greene—were part of an initiative called “outsights” aimed at exploring powerful psychedelics. Although circumstances shifted, I find myself captivated by what could have been.

I’ve been delving into psychedelics in the new trip series on BBC Radio 4. I previously shared my experiences of vivid hallucinations while in a coma from Covid-19. This sparked my curiosity to understand why individuals actively pursue psychedelic experiences, navigate legal challenges, take risks at home, seek healing, and address unmet needs.

There has yet to be a global consensus banning psychedelics. Responding to inquiries by scientist Humphrey Davy, who researched suboxidized oxides in 1799, Humphrey Osmond, coining the term psychedelic in the 1950s, expressed that the study of chemically induced altered states merits rigorous and thoughtful research.

Before the U.S.-led drug war commenced in the 1970s, extensive and promising research into psychedelics as potential treatments was underway, alongside their longstanding use in sacred and ritual contexts by Indigenous cultures. Unfortunately, rather than permitting this exploration, it was driven underground, leaving many to view substances such as fungi and plants, or their lab-created variants, as otherworldly. This otherness surprised me.

Currently, psychedelic research is investigating their therapeutic potential for conditions like depression, addiction, PTSD, eating disorders, dementia, and intergenerational trauma, gaining momentum globally. Studies explore their possible use in extending the recovery window following strokes, enhancing rehabilitation, and even unraveling the nature of consciousness.

Conversations with researchers who meticulously examine substances like psilocybin and DMT in clinical environments feel worlds apart from the psychedelic narratives prevalent in popular culture. These molecules profoundly and enduringly influence our minds and perceptions. It’s perplexing how we opted to stifle a broader inquiry and obstruct our brightest minds from discovering their true potential.

Today’s discussions among researchers are as engaging as they come, yet I can’t help but linger on the “what if?” In light of the global mental health crisis, governments and health systems are eager for new treatment alternatives. Public funding is dwindling and faces threats in many areas, while large corporations driven by profit show substantial interest in the accessibility of new therapies. Changes are happening rapidly.

Examining humanity’s history with psychedelic substances reveals a narrative marked by significant self-inflicted wounds. Ultimately, the funds for the outsight initiative never materialized, leading to a drastically different chapter in history. The war on drugs has stalled research across numerous substances for decades and continues to cast a shadow today.

The narratives surrounding these substances serve as warnings. Politics should never obstruct scientific breakthroughs. In light of today’s world, it feels like an urgent moral imperative to safeguard and nurture the conditions necessary for science to thrive. The stakes are too high.

Source: www.newscientist.com

Review of Rise of the Golden Idol: A 1970s detective game with a dark, twisted, and captivating storyline

a Brutal Scene: A shadowy figure forces someone into a high-voltage circuit box. The victim becomes unable to move at the moment of death, his body convulsing and sparks flying. Downstairs, everyone froze in shock the moment the lights went out. You must scrutinize this scene to determine who everyone is, where they are, why they are there, and, of course, who committed this murder. Examine faces and objects, search everyone’s pockets to see what’s inside, and read notes, signs, and letters for clues. Eventually you’ll piece it together and fill in the report with the missing words that describe exactly who, what, when, where, and why.

Rise of the Golden Idol is a 1970s alternate reality detective game where, when solved, individual scenes tell us something about a larger mystery. This is a sequel to The Case of the Golden Idol, set 300 years after the game’s Age of Exploration mystery, but following the trail of the same cursed object. Some of these scenes are relatively harmless and even funny, such as a drive-in cinema where an unexpected fire breaks out and cosplayed patrons rush for the exit. There are other scary things too. In the opening incident, the strangulation unfolds in an endless loop, like an Instagram boomerang story.

Intentionally grotesque art style…the rise of the Golden Idol. Photo: Color Gray Games

Solving these cases is very satisfying, but you better hope your memory for names and faces is good. Scenes could include 10 or more people and required a notebook to record them. There are more and more obvious hints offered when you get stuck, but as the game warns, using them takes away the fun of using deductive reasoning. Nevertheless, when I understood the gist of the case but couldn’t get someone’s last name correctly, I was glad that there was a button to show me which blanks in the report were incorrectly filled in. I thought.

The strangeness of Rise of the Golden Idol is what makes it so memorable. The art style is intentionally grotesque, with the characters’ asymmetrical faces and eyes moving like crazy, and the backgrounds filled with paint pens. The murders, robberies, and other crimes here are strange, and the picture becomes unsteady in its eternal two-second loop of movement. Until I solved the problem, the scene stuck in my head and I ended up staring at my phone screen for half an hour at a time, thinking, cross-referencing, and taking notes. Where is the character’s gaze leading me? Why is that rug in disarray? Where did that dirt come from?


The big story that comes from these details is worth all the effort. As the chapters change, the fill-in-the-blank incident report turns into a fill-in-the-blank summary of everything you’ve learned from several past cases, helping you draw connections that make the story full of intrigue. This is not a game you can play while thinking about something else. You have to pay close attention, focus your thoughts, and see what your brain can do. I was pleasantly surprised by my own reasoning skills.

The crime scenes are so bizarre that you never know where this game will take you, but there’s always something you need to solve.

“Rise of the Golden Idol” is currently in theaters. £16.75 or included with your Netflix subscription

Source: www.theguardian.com

Review of Still Wakes the Deep – The Terrifying Entity on a 1970s Scottish Oil Rig | Video Games

TThe film’s premise is a classic of the genre: one day, workers on the oil rig Beira D hit something with their drill, and soon a nameless monster descends on the vessel, killing the crew one by one. At the same time, Glaswegian electrician Cameron “Caz” McCreary is already on the verge of leaving the rig, having been fired from his remote workplace where he took refuge from the police after a huge bar fight. It is in his work boots that we step on as he desperately searches for a way out.

The team behind Still Wakes the Deep is hardly the same as The Chinese Room, the developer behind previous hits Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs and Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, both of which share the same trademark high visual fidelity, realistic soundwork, and emotive acting. Still Wakes the Deep is set on perhaps the most realistic oil rig ever seen in media, down to the hundreds of tiny hissing valves and labyrinthine metal staircases that groan dangerously. This wouldn’t be the place for health and safety talk, even without the terror looming from the deep, and the rig is by far the game’s most prominent character.

Still Wakes the Deep is also probably the most Scottish game you’ll ever play, and there’s a surprising amount of it. Each snippet of dialogue is a great example of how natural conversation should be, whether Kaz is talking to his few remaining colleagues or reflecting on the events that led him to Beira D. But at around six hours, the game is short, and there isn’t enough time for character development beyond a perfunctory introduction, which makes it hard to empathize with the characters, and isn’t helped by the clumsy device of having several characters call you in succession only to die over the phone.




The most realistic oil rig ever made in media…and yet it awakens the deep sea. Photo: Incognito mode

This is one of The Chinese Room’s most interactive games, doing more than just walking around and looking at things. But its gameplay design has one big problem: me, the savvy player. All of Still Wakes’ gameplay devices are used in so many games that I couldn’t help but groan the first time I saw yellow paint splattered on a ledge to grab onto. After that, yellow is everywhere: yellow tarps showing you where to climb, yellow edges on targets you can jump through, etc. Beira D goes from an interesting maze to a smooth parkour course.

When enemies appear, Caz can’t fight them; instead, he must sneak through them. Areas are littered with crouching spaces and items you can throw as distractions, and they’re often in rooms that you’ll need to cross multiple times before you can take cover. Ideally, this should be a source of tension, but as with navigation, the game makes it very clear what’s coming (and what’s going: at one point a rig worker literally shouts across a loud, echoing room that a monster is actually leaving), so there’s little you can do as the player other than follow the path.




Still awaken the abyss. Photo: Incognito mode

I was frustrated when I found the light from my headlamp didn’t bother the monsters, making it incredibly easy to sneak around. Or I’d fail a jump for purely camera-related reasons and have to listen to McCreary swear as he falls to his death multiple times, and I felt the tension melt away. The ever-present desire to help the player contrasts with horror games’ need to leave us in the dark sometimes. Every time the illusion crumbled, I left the game to put up with just to see what would happen to a character I wasn’t particularly attached to.

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Still Wakes the Deep manages to create an atmospheric portrait of an ordinary person with no special skills simply trying to survive in the harshest environment imaginable, but there aren’t enough real scares or compelling moments to make it memorable beyond that.

Source: www.theguardian.com