ROLLING STONE: As the former so-called LSD guru, what do you
think of Nancy Reagan’s advice on drugs--"Just say no”?
TIMOTHY LEARY: Our kids should be better mannered than that! We
should tell them, “Just say, ‘No, thank you.’” Any blanket
“Just say no” is a negative approach to life, which is
typical of the Reagan administration.
RS: So you disagree with the huge antidrug campaign?
TL: I’m totally opposed to nonadults using any drug. However,
the use of drugs by kids should be easily handled in a
family in which there is trust and communication. The
fact that kids in the ghetto use drugs is viewed the
wrong way. The problem is not the drugs; the problem is
the ghetto families where there are no models, there is no
communication, no education.
RS: So it’s okay to tell children to say, “No, thank you.” How
about the rest of us?
TL: Shall break the news? Adult Americans are supposed to make
their own decisions about personal matters. I am
constitutional opposed to government prohibitions against
my using any drug I want to. Addicts pose a different
problem. They are, by definition, sick people. If you
love an alcoholic or a druggie or a gun freak, intervene.
People who abuse drugs or booze or money or guns should be
prevented from acting irresponsibly. But ninety percent
of adults can and do use drugs prudently and efficiently.
RS: How do you feel about urine testing?
TL: I have no problems with testing people who operate dangerous
machinery or who run nuclear plants. I don’t want the
pilot of my plane hallucinating. But intelligent
individuals are not going to work for companies that would
force them to do demeaning things like pee in a bottle.
God knows what they would want next.
TL: There is a strong taboo discouraging experimentation with the
human brain. Before the Renaissance, there was a strong
religious taboo against discovering how the body worked.
This held back progress in medicine and biology for
centuries. Today a similar challenge faces the human
species. We must learn how the brain works. That’s what
we were doing at Harvard and Millbrook during the 1960s.
The psychedelic movement was a mind-exploration movement.
None of us really understood what was happening when we
took psychedelic drugs, because we had to use the mystical
language of the past--Hindu terms like satori and samhadi,
occult terms like illumination and transcendental. We
didn’t have the scientific metaphors to understand what we
were discovering.
RS: And we do now?
TL: Yup. We had to have a personal-computer movement to help us
understand the brain. You see, we can only understand our
inner workings in terms of the external, mechanical or
technological models that we build. We never understood
the circulation of the blood until we had hydraulic
systems moving water around. We didn’t understand
metabolism until we had mastered thermodynamics with the
steam engine and understood how coal and oil produce power
and energy. Only then could we figure out how
carbohydrates and proteins work. Coming from an
industrial, mechanical culture, how could we possibly
understand the brain? Until recently we thought the brain
was a machine like a big telephone system. This is a
completely inadequate metaphor. The psychedelic-drug
movement of the Sixties and the personal-computer movement
of the Eighties are inner and outer reflections of each
other. You simply cannot understand psychedelic drugs,
which activate the brain, unless you understand something
about computers. It is no accident that many of the
people in the computer movement had experimented with LSD.
RS: And what was learned?
TL: Every person who took acid has his or her own story to tell.
That’s the beautiful things about it. Certainly there is
no one who had an experience with LSD who didn’t have an
unforgettable, overwhelming experience.
RS: How do computers help our inner exploration?
TL: Computers help us understand how our brains process
information. For example, as a psychologist, I was taught
that the synapse, where two nerve endings exchange
information, was a sort of on-off switching device. That
is not true at all. At the synapse there are millions of
quantum signals, like an enormous television screen.
There is probably more complex information exchanged
between one synapse and another than in most computer
programs. But I have to have an understanding of
computers to be able to say that. There is a wonderful
paradox here: we can only navigate outside as well as we
can navigate within. What happened in the Sixties was
that we did a lot of inner tripping, but we lacked the
cybernetic-language technology to express and map and
chart what we were experiencing.
RS: Do you miss the Sixties?
TL: Not really, thought I must say it was a fantastic age of
exploration. We had that old-time 1492 Columbus fever.
We sensed that we were brain explorers. We intuitively
used metaphors of travel--"tripping," “coming down,” “head
pilots,” “guiding voyagers.” The metaphor “turning on”
relates to activating the television set and booting up
the computer.
RS: These days, the drugs in vogue are not mind exploring. What
does that say about the time?
TL: The drugs that are popular today--cocaine, pills, ecstasy,
Venus, Eve--tend to alter mood rather than expand
consciousness. They can be instructive and fun if handled
prudently. But we still have to learn how to communicate
what we experience. Let’s be frank: there will be new,
improved drugs and wave of internal explorations.
RS: With what end?
TL: It is a genetic imperative to explore the brain. Why?
Because it’s there. If you are carrying around in you
head 100 billion mainframe computers, you just have to get
in there and learn how to operate them. There is nothing
in the outside universe that isn’t mirrored and duplicated
inside your brain.
RS: Do you feel a kindred spirit with the people who are
identified with the drug movement, such as Richard
Alpert--a.k.a. Ram Dass--and novelist and Merry Prankster
leader Ken Kesey?
TL: Sure, although we all evolved so differently. Richard talks
about going back to the source, which means going back to
the past. For many good reasons, Richard committed
himself to an extremely archaic Hindu orthodoxy. But it’s
a peaceful philosophy of caring and charity. Richard was
the Mother Teresa of the psychedelic movement. You can’t
knock that. But Ram Dass ain’t gonna blow your mind open
with new revelations, and he ain’t gonna encourage you to
storm the gates of the info-space heaven with cybernetic
brainware.
RS: What about Ken Kesey?
TL: Ken Kesey and his wife, Faye, are real Western heroes.
Mythic ranchers. Frontier people. Oregon Trail folk.
Salt of the good earth. Rugged-individualist people you
can depend on in a crunch.
RS: How about others associated with that period? Abbie Hoffman?
TL: Abbie Hoffman is a wonderful legend. The most radical,
eloquent, rabble-rousing agitator of our time.
RS: Jerry Rubin?
TL: Jerry’s your basic YMHA director, a likable young executive.
Jerry is a liberal conformist. He could just as well have
been a young liberal Republican. He’s certainly not your
new Aristotle or Plato.
RS: What was his role then?
TL: He had his own Holy Grail quest. He certainly was out there
in the front lines. And he has a certain organizational
charm, which I admire. If you’re looking for a veterans-
of-the-Sixties consensus here, I’d guess that ninety
percent of the people who were involved in the psychedelic
brain-discovery movement would tell you that LSD paved the
way for most of the cultural events of the last two
decades--ecology, New Age, Shirley MacLaine, the born-
again personal-religion stuff, the peace movement, the
personal-fitness craze, pop art, personal-computer
hacking, MTV, BLADE RUNNER, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE and the
cybernetic Eighties.
