From Maple to Mind Expansion: Unveiling Canada's Psychedelic History with Erika Dyck 🍁
Canada's transformative impact on global drug policy and research is undeniable, yet it often gets overlooked. Nobody is a bigger authority on that than Dr. Erika Dyck.
**This post was edited from the emailed version to reflect the conversation revolving around the term “psychedelic” was between Aldous Huxley (not Abram Hoffer) and Humphry Osmond**
Psychedelics are currently being integrated into the Canadian healthcare system as a treatment for depression, addiction, PTSD, end-of-life care, and much more.
But it certainly didn’t get this way overnight. Psychedelics have had a lot of ups and downs in Canada. They were viewed as panaceas in the 1950s and 60s, then public view shifted, and psychedelics were labeled dangerous drugs until the 2010s.
Now everything is shifting again — and, while more promising than before, echoes from the forgotten past are shining through.
So what happened? How did we get to where we are today?
Nobody is looking into this in the same way or level of depth as Dr. Ericka Dyck, whom we recently had the pleasure of chatting with.
Dyck is a professor and the Canada Research Chair for the History of Medicine at the University of Saskatchewan.
Since 2001, she has published dozens of peer-reviewed articles, books, and studies on Canada’s history of medical treatment — with a heavy focus on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD).
Let’s talk through the story of psychedelic research in Canada and what it means for the future of psychedelics — both within Canada and in other countries around the world.
Psychedelics Officially Premiered in Canada in the 1950s
Natural psychedelic substances grow on every continent on Earth — with the exception of Antarctica.
Psilocybin-containing mushrooms, Amanita muscaria, morning glory vine, and datura have all been growing in Canada for millennia. While there isn’t any hard evidence pointing to the ceremonial use of these plants, most experts believe these groups used native psychoactive plants and fungi at least to some extent.
Many consider the “official” premiere of psychedelics in Canada to be during the 1950s. During this time, mescaline, LSD, and magic mushrooms were just beginning to hit the mainstream.
Psychoanalysis and psychology were bustling industries at the time too. “It was a dynamic moment,” Dyck would say, adding:
Even in the early days, psychedelics were touted as providing the equivalent of 10 years of psychotherapy. These are cheap solutions when you think of the alternative of keeping someone in a hospital for the rest of their lives.
We hadn’t done much work understanding, harnessing, and altering brain chemistry up until this point, but the door was opening for it.
As this was happening, Saskatchewan’s political landscape shifted towards socialism with the election of Tommy Douglas, the first such successful election of a socialist in North America.
One of Douglas’s biggest platforms was improving the healthcare system, leading him to build what we now call Medicare and invest heavily in research of all kinds.
Psychedelics quickly began to stand out for their unique consciousness-altering capabilities, and the psychoanalytical mindset took to it immediately.
A lot of provinces were dedicated to providing research around psychedelics at the time. BC had a private hospital called Hollywood Hospital dedicated to psych research by 1957.
Another hospital, Allen Memorial Hospital, began investigating the potential for LSD and Mind Control using some money from the CIA’s MK-Ultra fund.
Psychedelic Brothers: Comparing Canada & America's Hallucinogenic Heritage
Early Canadian psychedelic research followed mostly ethical grounds — at least, our understanding of such in the mid-50s. A few psychiatric hospitals received funding from the CIA for “mind control” and other typical MK-Ultra projects, but this was far less widespread than it was in America.
Dyck believes the money followed the motive and the agency likely had little to do with what happened within the BC-based hospital.
Another historian and I are a little skeptical of the role the CIA plays because they were funding small projects to demand reports on them…Not to totally separate the bond but the cause and effect are more nuanced on that.
After all, this was around the same time NASA famously (partially) funded a project giving dolphins LSD to try and establish communication between species.
While unsuspectingly dosing innocent people was a standard operation in America, it represented a small — though nonetheless atrocious — part of Canada’s history too.
Still, even ethical studies for the time can bring red flags today. Dyck points to the Penetanguishene studies, which had “some crossover” between a psychiatric hospital and a prison.
Prisoners had the right to refuse the treatment, but the idea of potentially getting out of jail for participating still raises concerns. Similar arguments are possible for mental asylums, addiction facilities, and other undesirable locations — “consent” is hard to define when there’s an expectation of reward for participation.
Even if a person knew and willingly took a treatment, what constitutes a full understanding of what they’d go through? As Dyck put it, “There were consent forms but how much could they really know what would happen?”
Pushing Boundaries: The Inner Motives Powering Canada's Psychedelic Studies
Psychedelic research in Canada began with several key areas of focus. Outside of the salacious possibility of mind control, brainwashing, or “reprogramming,” several earnest and insightful studies took place.
Unlike the CIA’s experiments — the data for which has pretty much all been destroyed — the results from these Canadian studies remain available to this day.
Dyck has followed up with several participants years later to better understand what happened, the motivations behind it, and the outcomes.
By and large, the motivations for research on psychedelics revolve around three themes:
Intrigue — This was a whole new state of being. Nobody knew what to expect the first time they tried LSD, and, as students of the mind, pure fascination drove a lot of the initial research.
Sympathy — Initial understandings of psychedelics revolved around replicating the experience of psychosis, schizophrenia, and other conditions. Many thought this temporary experience with mania would help them better come to terms with the experience of their patient’s lives.
Addiction — Similar to America, the understanding of LSD’s potential to help with alcoholism was at the forefront of researchers’ minds. Several studies looked into this potential.
Let’s break each of these down a bit further:
1. Psychedelics Are Interesting
In some ways, scientists were taking drugs for the same reason many of us do: experimentation. Though admittedly, their approach was likely more pointed and professional than any time I’ve done LSD.
After Saskatchewan native Humphry Osmond first took LSD with Aldous Huxley, he would even coin the term “psychedelic.” In a series of communications Dyck and her team have put together and published, the two worked out the new pharmacological name for the substance they were taking.
Huxley first suggests:
To make this trivial world sublime, take half a gramme of phanerothyme
To which Osmond retorts:
To Fathom Hell or go angelic, just take a pinch of psychedelic
If nothing else, a Canadian citizen is responsible for the term used for all of my favorite drugs.
The two were working together at the Wayburn Mental Asylum and were deeply interested in the potential psychedelics could offer. Everyone was reaching far and wide to see what potential applications there may be for this wild new experience.
According to Dyck, this even involved a brief attempt to speak with the founder of Scientology, L. Ron Hubbard. “They … asked what he might have to say about it and weren’t pleased with him at all.”
Often this involved their wives — in fact, most notable psychonauts throughout history have a seldom-mentioned partner who played just as big a role. Think about Alexander Shulgin and his wife, Ann Shulgin for example. Or Aldous and Laura Huxley.
These guys weren’t able to converse about the experience so that’s why they wanted their wives to have it so they could talk with them about it and all the crazy things they saw. Wives were critical to that safe space.
2. Psychedelics for “Induced Psychosis”
Psychosis is a detachment from reality, and we now understand psychedelics are not a clear path towards inducing it. However, one study did show a glimmer of possibility within this realm.
Kiyoshi Izumi was an architect recruited by Hoffer and Osmond to assist with understanding the impact of asylum design on the patients within it. After taking a dose of LSD, Izumi would spend the night in the hospital, walking around and noting anything that felt uninviting.
As Dyck puts it in her article Spaced-Out in Saskatchewan, Izumi set out to create a home-like environment “minimalist to the point of austerity” but intentional and non-ambiguous:
For example, he discarded the idea of using grainy wood paneling after considering the frightening effects it could have for someone experiencing hallucinations. He took extra care to ensure that colors and textures clearly marked spatial separations. He chose dark colored frames for exterior windows to outline the separation between glass and wall.
Izumi’s critical aspects of design he felt the experience had shown him were an increased need for:
Privacy — “Each patient needs a place to retreat to when he feels threatened.” When complicated emotions arise (and they will), they’ll only worsen if the patient has to go through them in public.
Non-Ambiguous Design — Make each function and object within a room and facility scream what its purpose is. This was the reason for dark-colored window frames, to ensure patients could easily see where the wall ends and a window begins.
Security & Non-Intimidation Tactics — The environment shouldn’t feel like a prison or unsafe location. “Each patient needs encouragement to preserve his own individuality and identity,” not be “lost in the mass of other patients.”
Small Groups — Instead of forcing patients to try and make friends among a swarm of others, section off patients into smaller groups to encourage interaction and healing.
Izumi would design an ambitious new building but never received the opportunity to fully implement it.
3. Psychedelics for Treating Addiction
Like American efforts, several Canadian studies looked into the effects of psychedelics on addiction. Interestingly, some of the first research into the topic didn’t classify success as not drinking alcohol. Within the report, “complete abstinence” could include “drinking only very small quantities.”
Despite this, Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) created the best results “because there was a built-in group of social context — a container to work through your experience,” according to Dyck. She had the opportunity to follow up with some of the participants in this study and gave an example displaying the differentiation in attitudes:
One guy showed me his liquor cabinet and said “I have it for my family and I can even have a glass if I want but I just don’t want to.” He and his friend both talked about abstinence being discussed but it wasn’t a mantra they had to live by— one participant said simply “I saw it differently — it didn’t need to be who I am.”
This shift in mindset is likely the number one factor in determining successful outcomes for participants. As Dyck put it:
“Some of the best data came through the organizations where they worked closely with AA but, in the correspondence and research, they didn’t see abstinence as a requirement even though they worked better with AA.”
LSD wasn’t some magical tool capable of ridding participants of their cravings. Rather, “it allowed them to ‘get out of their mind’ and see how they were hurting others — wives, mothers, etc.”
Decades later, when Dyck followed up, this would remain one of the most deeply impactful events of their lives.
“A lot of them telling their stories did weep and it was 40 years after their experience.”
Canada’s Psychedelic Dark-Ages
Several factors contributed to the decline in public excitement over psychedelics in Canada. Here’s a rundown of the factors contributing to Canada’s turn toward prohibition:
1. Distrust In Medicine After Thalidomide
Thalidomide is a minor sedative widely used from 1957–62 to treat nausea — particularly morning sickness in people who were pregnant. The resulting consequence of this was an estimated 10,000 children born with debilitating and horrific birth defects.
The widespread panic following this created a shifting perception in how people approached and viewed their healthcare provider. Gone were the days of “doctor knows best,” and the distrust in science ultimately led to emotions leading to legislative change instead of logic.
With sensational stories of terrifying psychedelic experiences accompanying this event, the research didn’t matter anymore. People had to figure out the best course of action for themselves, and doctors moved from being authoritative figures in the lives of patients to being consultants on their health.
Imagine — as a doctor without the trust of your patient — trying to explain the benefits of psychedelics making you temporarily insane, as was the current belief.
2. Countercultural Movement & the Politicization of Psychedelics
It’s no secret the countercultural movement had a net-negative impact when it comes to psychedelic legalization and research. An oversimplification of “drop acid, not bombs” ultimately helped encourage the divide between the anti-war left and establishment politicians.
On the one hand, people were opening up societally to the implications of the war on drugs and their political bodies in general. This alone would be enough for the government to be suspicious, but it wasn’t ultimately the problem — everyone should feel free to disagree with their government.
Where this became problematic is when advocates fought with their level of sensationalism, ignoring potential risks associated with psychedelic use. While you’re unlikely to die from a dose of LSD directly, you can find yourself in an extremely dark place, and people have committed acts of self-harm and worse due to the experience or during it.
Zealousness led speeches and activists to grow bolder with their claims, threats, and critiques of the government. This helped set the tone for the government and make it easier to enact prohibitionary measures, turning psychedelics into a cultural issue.
3. Demonization in the Media
Following these societal shifts, so too went the media. Gone were the days of psychedelics sharing the front page with the space race — scientific findings or not, supporting psychedelics became controversial.
Stories began to shift from excitement to panic, and coverage shifted from scientific findings to sensational horror stories. As Dyck mentions in an interview with The Third Wave Podcast, people began to question whether or not it was a good thing to go “out of your mind.”
Researchers and scientists can quickly back up an experimental therapy with a low-risk profile for harm, but the public is a different story. Citizens operate with their emotions as well as — or, sometimes excluding — logic.
The media’s job shouldn’t be to return this desire with stories appealing to emotional response, but, nonetheless, this often happens.
4. The Elimination of Naïveté
Once the world became aware of psychedelics and more people began experimenting with them, researchers began losing touch with how to best study these substances.
When users aren’t naïve about the effects of the study, they’re more likely to tilt the results in favor of success.
We have similar problems today as psychedelics are more mainstream than ever. As a result, participants arriving at a clinical trial for psilocybin likely already have an expectation of what it will be like and how well it would work.
The placebo effect is no joke — one study showed participants who took a migraine medication labeled “placebo” had similar efficacy as those who took a placebo labeled as their medication.
Expectations for success throw a wrench into the entire scientific process. Researchers needed to take a moment to re-evaluate or perform their research in poor conditions — both happened frequently.
(Check out our recent post The False Promise of Psychedelic Drugs for more)
Erika Dyck, Ph.D.: The Path Towards Understanding
Having begun her studies before the Renaissance we currently live in, Dyck had to navigate the propaganda of the time she was in. Ethical boards had concerns over whether they would be “reliable narrators,” asking if people who use these drugs “have brain damage” or other misconceptions.
“I was teased in the department when I got into it for the topic of my dissertation. Some of it was teasing and maybe I took it more seriously but trying to get ethical approval to research people who I know took these drugs was very difficult.”
Early on, Dyck came across a newspaper from the Toronto Star announcing Russia had become the first nation to put a man in space. Also sharing the front cover was the question, “LSD: Miracle Drug or Menace?”
“I came into it trying to figure out where these fit into psychedelic history. The excitement and potential surrounding psychedelics in the past didn’t line up with where they landed in the present.”
“I was also told by a variety of people — including those who have control of the outcome of my Ph.D. — to never claim I tried these drugs.”
Things are evolving toward this no longer being the case — and likely largely in part to work like Dyck’s in exposing the true history of our relationship with these drugs.
While things continue to evolve in the world of psychedelics, ignoring the lessons from the past prevents them from shining a light on issues in the present or future.
Canada & Psychedelics in the Present
Today, psychedelics are coming back into view as a potential solution for Canadian healthcare. Though technically still against the law, psychedelic dispensaries are opening left and right in Toronto and Vancouver.
Still, many of the arguments for legalization sound eerily similar to the sensationalistic ideals of the past. Namely, the idea that we might be able to “cure” something as complex as depression through a pharmacological solution.
In Canada, patients seeking magic mushrooms can do so legally, but it must be for medical use. This is true despite the lack of conclusive evidence for the efficacy of psilocybin in treating any condition.
In this way, psychedelics are often taking the place of other medications we’ve developed in the past, and the marketing is often just as heavy-handed.
Psychedelic laws by Canadian province:
Echoes From the Past: What Canada’s Psychedelic History Means For Today
“The relationship between trusting science and trusting ourselves has broken down,” Dyck told me. We have a different connection with medicine today than we did in the 50s and 60s, but common themes are starting to emerge.
In the 50s there was a searching moment for a way to deal with unending rises in anxiety and depression as well as major mental disorders causing mass hospitalization. I think those same drums are beating today — I don’t think they ever went away
Mental health conditions persist and continue to worsen because the environment surrounding them continues to decline. Between COVID, escalating societal tensions, and the continued marginalization of citizens, it is foolish to think any medical intervention would solve underlying problems.
“I’ve also heard about this…what is it…climate change?” Dyck added in jest on our call. How can we lose our existential anxiety with constant reminders and threats of doom?
One reaction to this is to ignore the concerns and plow ahead with a solution that has greatly helped you. Unfortunately, we still haven’t found a drug — no, not even that one — capable of curing the systemic oppression of society and the requirement to overwork ourselves to exist in it.
The sensationalism and exceptional positivity surrounding them rhyme with missteps from the past. No drug can fix the brokenness of nearly every major institution in our society, even if it may temporarily help.
As we continue moving into the future, it’s crucial we don’t forget the lessons of our past. Many of the concerns leading to the downfall of psychedelics in the 60s/70s sound eerily similar to where we currently stand.
Further Reading
Psychedelic Psychiatry: LSD From Clinic to Campus (Book by Erika Dyck)
The Acid Room: The Psychedelic Trials and Tribulations of Hollywood Hospital (Book by Erika Dyck)
Spaced-out in Saskatchewan: Modernism, Anti-Psychiatry, and Deinstitutionalization, 1950-1968 (Erika Dyck)
What Happened to the First LSD Researchers? (Thirdwave Podcase with Erika Dyck)
Psychedelic Prophets: The Letters of Aldous Huxley and Humphry Osmond (Book by Cynthia Carson Bisbee, Paul Bisbee, Erika Dyck, & Patrick Farrell)
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