Spiritual or Corporeal . . . Reason or Faith?

Humanity has at last arrived at an interesting junction in our development and search for understanding. More and more people have come to distrust or altogether write off spirituality, especially archaic and irrelevant organized faiths. This shift has been the logical conclusion of thousands of years of scientific studies into the unknown; we’ve at last come to understand, more or less, how the universe operates, how it began, and the laws that govern and produce life itself. Myths, it seems, no longer have a practical purpose in a world of knowledge.

Interestingly, that shift has in many ways led to a movement toward different, alternative forms of spirituality. We somehow crave it, even if we find it illogical. The drive to discover a sense of meaning and purpose in life is integral to the human condition. As a result, a revival of pagan religions has been especially strong, as well as an interest in Eastern religions. This shift is natural, considering that these belief systems typically do not attempt to proscribe a “literal” answer for the more earthy questions (such as, How did the universe form? or How did humans come to be?). As a result, they are, in many ways, a perfect fit for humanity in its current state of having knowledge about the physical world we inhabit but very little concrete information (if such a thing is possible) about our spiritual existence.

In perfect concurrence has been an increased interest in psychoactive drugs. With organizations such as NORML (http://norml.org/) and the push toward medical marijuana laws working tirelessly to correct a century of lies and propaganda about cannabis, we can undoubtedly expect major reform by the end of the next decade . . . perhaps even sooner. Once people begin to view cannabis in a new, more level-headed light, it will be natural to begin accepting other psychoactive drugs as legitimate, too. Psilocybin would likely be the next drug considered, and eventually, I posit, DMT. I do not expect to see much conversation surrounding legalization and regulation of addictive or habit-forming drugs anytime soon (such as methamphetamines or opiates), because they do not offer the same types of experiences as the three mentioned above (and others) do, plus, they are potentially very dangerous to consume.

So, what is a psychoactive drug, exactly, and how does it work?

Unfortunately, that question is difficult to fully explain with our current scientific understanding. Yes, we understand that they are substances that cross the blood-brain barrier and thereby significantly alter how our brains receive and perceive information. But at the end of the day, that’s about all we have for scientific, factual knowledge—how they interact chemically, but not what’s going on “behind the scenes,” so to speak.

Some scientists have tried to study these substances, but their studies often get marginalized by the academic science community or shut down by the government. Timothy Leary’s studies into LSD are now famous, and Rick Strassman’s studies into the nature of DMT are well known to drug-enthusiasts. Many other scientists are looking, often secretly, into the effects of other psychoactive substances. And I think it goes without saying that plenty of would-be scientist college students have experimented with the mental effects of cannabis.

Recently, a respected neurosurgeon, Dr. Eben Alexander, wrote a piece for Newsweek Magazine titled “Heaven Is Real: A Doctor’s Experience with the Afterlife” (read it here: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/10/07/proof-of-heaven-a-doctor-s-experience-with-the-afterlife.html). In it, he details his own shift from skeptic to believer while placed in a coma set on by an infection of E. coli bacteria in his brain. In the fascinating article, he details an out-of-body experience where he came into contact with what he’s interpreted to be angels and, apparently, a deity. Near-death experiences have been well-documented and discussed ad nauseam by the scientific community, debunked by skeptics, and turned to by believers as indisputable, if anecdotal, evidence.

Ever quick to join a reason/faith fray, PZ Myers posted a response a few days ago on his blog, Pharungula (read it here: http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2012/10/09/newsweek-panders-to-the-deluded-again/). In his typical and often justifiably-dismissive tone, he explains that, at best, Dr. Alexander is struggling with confabulation, a phenomenon wherein the human mind constructs artificial memories to fill in gaps, especially common in cases of trauma. At worst, he suggests that the doctor is simply brain-damaged.

But then, what of the near-death type experiences often described and sought by users of DMT? The most common response to this powerful psychoactive drug is a sense of having had an out-of-body, spiritual experience. Even taking for granted that the religious texts we hold today are bogus, or that an E. coli-induced coma could be a traumatic experience leading to confabulation, isn’t it possible that there’s something to these experiences brought on by experimentation with psychoactive drugs? Is it possible that there is “something” more, but we just haven’t been able to grasp it yet?

In short, I don’t have an answer. As an atheist with a profound interest in consciousness and a curiosity into whether humans do have a spiritual side that we’ve simply misinterpreted for so many millennia, it occurs to me that maybe we need to start opening our minds a bit more to alternative forms of consciousness and scientific research simultaneously in order to start answering some of the big questions humanity is left with. Then we can finally shake off our undying need for systems of faith to provide us with meaning and purpose. Because I don’t think the answers are going to come from reviving old religions, but I also don’t think they’ll come from closed-mindedness, either. They’ll come from humanity finally venturing into that next frontier of understanding our brains, our consciousness, and—perhaps most exciting of all—our humanity itself.

Humanity Thirsts for Experience

            The meaning of life is experience. How sad and pathetic that so many come to inhabit this world, seeking the answer, and fall away unsatisfied. Worse, those who nobly die with the righteous belief that their purpose for existence was subservience and devotion to a deity. It would shatter their very beings to open their minds and see that God is the greatest lie ever told. So instead they live, day after day consuming purpose via obtuse old rituals written by power-hungry, delusional men. Even the few who break free of the traditional paradigms still may fall into lesser belief structures, such as Paganism, adopting ritual and worship again for the comfort and sense of purpose they provide.

            But true purpose comes from humanity alone. We have evolved from the primordial soup, risen above the base masses of primitive animals, to achieve the ultimate success of intellect, of self-awareness. Of individuality.

            So, where do we go from here? Oddly, we fight against our own progress, and have done so since day one. We develop order and patriotism, laws and structure, then cleave to them as the monkeys we left behind still cling to the absurd comfort, safety, and familiarity of the trees we came down from. The very nature of humanity is change, is daring to take the ultimate, terrifying leap into the unknown. It was once fueled by curiosity, but that human urge has been placated at last by over-saturation. Why bother to be curious now, when all that is knowable (or truly worth knowing, considering our limited scope of the universe) is already known?

            That, however, is a fatal fallacy. We have focused on facts rather than experience, emotions, and empathy. A world at peace, a love without jealousy, a humanity graced with universal acceptance . . . these experiences are real, they are possible, but they are, to this day, mere dreams—as the notion of a man walking on the moon may once have seemed to Copernicus. Should we not, least, abate our hunger for facts, having fully supped, and indulge a while in our thirst for experience? It’s not that we’ll never be hungry again, nor thirsty forever, but humanity itself is a single organism working in unison, as our cells and organs compose us, and like all organisms, its needs—so far as sustenance is concerned—are varied.

            We’ll never come to truly understand how the universe operates until we first experience why it matters at all that we know. After all, we did not discover the horrible wonders of the split atom until we experienced a need for that understanding. But can’t wisdom come from positive, progressive needs, rather than superficial ones—protection, domination, self-preservation in the face of an enemy—and thereby carry with it a mark of pride and accomplishment hitherto unknown to the human race?

            In short, if we may submit ourselves to love and benevolence, rather than fear and hatred, can we not better unlock human potential, solely through the experience of the most beautiful aspects of our shared humanity?