The Sharing of Science through Psychedelics in Latin America
A shaman in Ecuador. Azzedine Rouichi. Published June 26, 2021. Image from Unsplash.
What do virtual reality and traditional shaman healing ceremonies have in common? At first glance, the connections are hard to see. My biomedical background had already sparked an interest in the developing field of virtual reality healthcare. That sensory exercises could be used to overload the nervous system and diminish chronic pain signals was fascinating but even more so because this practice is still not well understood. As I began to research shaman healing ceremonies, I noticed some strong similarities between the otherwise disparate fields of knowledge. They are both increasingly being used as effective alternatives to Western medical treatments. They also contribute knowledge from fields not conventionally associated with Western medicine causing a lack of endorsement from government medical organizations. Virtual reality’s connection to gaming and the strong ties that tether psychedelic healing to the Indigenous combine fields of knowledge not often associated together which can lead to more innovative thinking. One large difference between the two arises from the complexity of incorporating these knowledge systems. Take the story of Richard Schultes, a prominent figure in Western ethnobotany. He began his work at Columbia studying plants of medical and military interest to the US such as curare and rubber. Having spent time in the Amazon, he became involved in efforts to protect its wilderness and was celebrated as a conservationist. It wasn’t until later in his career that he began to focus on processes of plant identification, specifically with the psychedelic ayahuasca. In this field, he puzzled over the accuracy with which Indigenous groups could identify strains whose differences seemed imperceptible. He immersed himself in his studies by taking ayahuasca but ultimately struggled to understand Indigenous taxonomy through the framework of Western science (Sheldrake 357). Though most forms of knowledge exchange face their challenges, Schultes’s story illuminates the ethical and practical intricacies which set apart the psychedelic knowledge exchange. However, by examining the impacts of psychedelic tourism on the participants, its effectiveness as a form of knowledge exchange can be determined. In understanding its benefits and flaws, general conclusions on improving methods of connecting unconventional knowledge fields, such as virtual reality healthcare, can be drawn.
In examining the effectiveness of psychedelic tourism as a method of learning, it is important first to consider its efficacy with tourists who have little knowledge of Indigenous sciences. Tourists often come in search of personal transformation and find the perspective of Indigenous knowledge beneficial as it utilizes a more holistic method of healing. Indigenous medicine uses community-based healing rituals and for this reason, the same experience can’t be replicated for tourists who can’t bring their community. Similarly, establishments such as the Centro Takiwasi in Peru stray from tradition by drawing their practices from both Indigenous customs and Western psychotherapy to offer addiction treatment. Despite deviations from custom, tourists often leave with their goals for healing fulfilled (Kavenská and Simonova 356). In this light, psychedelic tourism seems to effectively integrate Western travelers into Indigenous traditions, allowing them to encounter Indigenous knowledge in a positive light. On the other hand, the encounter is not mutually beneficial as most tourists come for personal reasons, not to increase awareness of the importance of Indigenous sciences. Another barrier to this exchange involves its commodification. With an increasing number of individuals searching for answers through psychedelic tourism, many look to capitalize on this movement. The rise in neo-shamanism and the opening of psychedelic retreats have had harmful effects on not only Indigenous communities but tourists themselves. The effects of psychedelic medicine can be powerful. To maintain a safe environment shamans must be well informed of the possible effects, but those opening new retreats often don’t go through the extensive training of traditional shamans. This can lead to ceremonies that are inauthentic and dangerous.
Expanding public interest in psychedelic medicine has bolstered the research of Western academics into the plants themselves. These ventures tend to be cooperative and lean on the expertise of respected Indigenous scholars. By working together, the information gathered achieves a greater depth when combined with centuries of previous experience. It is once the research is implemented that collaborations can become exploitative. While Western science determines authority through scholarly achievements like PhDs, the Indigenous respect different methods such as through traditional training. This leads to a gap in the Western public trust of Indigenous scholars, conferring them less authority (Bane par. 9). To create a space where both knowledge systems are used effectively this biased perspective must be rectified. The inclusion of Indigenous scholars is also important for another reason. In Indigenous systems of knowledge, learning is considered a journey, it can’t always be shared through literature. This is exemplified by the actions of a group of Quechuan women in Colibreas, Ecuador. Though their children attend public school the women impart traditional knowledge of plant properties through the daily preparation and ingestion of tea. These teas are non-psychedelic but raise the question of whether sensory ways of knowing, such as psychedelic-induced dreams, can be translated without having experienced them. Thus, it becomes apparent that the only way to accurately convey Indigenous knowledge is through Indigenous scholars who have participated in its real-life application. While the objectivity of such knowledge may be called into question, this venture would offer an opportunity to grapple with our conception of objectivity and its necessity in science fields.
To prevent information exchange from being an exploitative practice, impacts on Indigenous communities are most important to consider. Information shared by the Indigenous with Western authority figures can create benefits for Western society as a whole. However, these rewards are rarely distributed to Indigenous communities whom they disproportionately affect. This occurrence ties directly into psychedelic tourism through biopiracy. Pharmaceutical companies look to the success of psychedelics when developing new medicine. They learn from Indigenous experts but abandon their holistic methods, isolating components of the plants and marketing them to be used by Western doctors. This practice can be beneficial as it introduces forms of medicine that Western society otherwise might not have been exposed to. This knowledge is not new to the Indigenous communities who receive little of the profits. Furthermore, for Indigenous people the plants and connected rituals are sacred. By viewing the psychedelic plants from Western medical perspectives, their ties to the Indigenous communities are severed. Biopiracy demonstrates the danger of measures attempting to transplant Indigenous knowledge into Western medicine without acknowledging the systems to which they are attached. It should be noted that the effects of psychedelic tourism sometimes bring benefits to Indigenous communities. The increasing interest in psychedelic plants and recognition of their ties to Indigenous groups has helped secure land rights in areas where these plants grow.
According to the participants, it's apparent that psychedelic tourism is effective at translating knowledge systems in various ways. The Centro Takiwasi exemplifies this in many ways given its history as an NGO formed by Europeans and Peruvians out of a research effort to study Amazonian healing. Its multifaceted approach and efforts to support Indigenous communities through cooperation and land conservation highlight the benefits of this method of tourism. At the same time, there are many areas in which the practice could be improved to create a safer healing environment that effectively translates knowledge without violating Indigenous values. Efforts to improve medical knowledge exchange have gone further to create medical systems which offer help from both Indigenous and Western systems of knowledge. There are some currently in place which can be commended for connecting their patients to multiple methods of healing, but these systems encounter their own barriers. Frequently Indigenous medical experts are relied upon solely in situations where traditional biomedicine could not solve the issue. Just like with psychedelic tourism, a reciprocal level of trust is necessary for the system to be effective. While psychedelic knowledge exchange is a very particular example, by ignoring the lens that shapes our reality we limit our potential to explore new fields of knowledge. Similar conclusions can be applied to the healing potential of virtual reality. The fields of knowledge being incorporated must be given the same respect and authority to utilize the full potential of their perspectives. As I move into a future in biomedicine, I hope to carry this new understanding into learning more about areas of unconventional knowledge exchange. For within that subtle connection between virtual reality and shaman healing lies the nature of innovation.
About the Author
Eva Schiltz is currently studying at the University of Wisconsin Madison in pursuit of a degree in Biomedical Engineering and an International Engineering Certificate. She is involved with the Society of Women Engineers and participates as a general member of the Boeing Tech Team.
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