MDMA therapy could be legal by summer. Why are so many advocates sounding the alarm?
Last summer, thousands of tie-dyed Burners and Patagonia-clad tech founders converged on the MAPS Psychedelic Science conference in Denver. Vendors offered complementary sound baths, Harvard-educated scientists showed off new research, and Jaden Smith spoke about emotionally connecting with a bee while tripping. The New York Jets quarterback Aaron Rodgers was there too, gushing about how psychedelic drugs "unlocked a whole new world" for him as an athlete. "Ayahuasca, 48 touchdowns, five interceptions, MVP," he said. "What are you going to say?"
But to some 12,000 attendees who paid up to $1,800 a ticket to attend the industry's biggest conference, the main draw wasn't the "wellness bro" self-help guru Andrew Huberman or any of the other A-list podcasters and C-list celebrities who peppered the lineup. It was a 69-year-old activist named Rick Doblin, who almost four decades ago decided to change the way America thought about drugs. Doblin kicked off the event in a white suit, looking like a cross between a televangelist and an aging rockstar. "Welcome to the psychedelic '20s!" he announced, before breaking into an impassioned speech about his plan to get to "net-zero trauma" by 2070 and about how MDMA could be used to create peace between Israelis and Palestinians.
Perhaps more than any other single person in the past half-century, Doblin, now 70, is responsible for mainstreaming psychedelics and other once maligned psychoactive substances. He's a big part of why your grandma is asking you about magic mushrooms and TikTok influencers are trying to sell you ketamine therapy in between dance challenges and makeup tutorials. When the government named MDMA a Schedule 1 substance — a category reserved for drugs like heroin with high abuse potential and no accepted medical use — Doblin sprung into action, founding a nonprofit called the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies in 1986.
