Decentralised Minds: Can Psychedelics Undermine the Military Industrial Complex

“In the fields, the bodies burnin As the war machine keeps turning Death and hatred to mankind Poisoning their brainwashed minds”

War Pigs, Black Sabbath, 1970

 

This song by Black Sabbath, released as an anti-war protest song, has always been one of my favourites (if not my favourite ever song), long before I ever encountered psychedelics. The iconic riff and immense drumming make it so powerful, with foreboding vocals, creative basslines, and intricate guitar solos. The lyrics, which relate to a witches' Sabbath, took on more of an anti-war sentiment. 

It was released over 50 years ago in 1970, and sadly, we are witnessing a continued decline in global peacefulness as of 2025, with an ongoing war between Russia and Ukraine, along with Israel’s genocidal actions in Gaza…not to mention all the other conflicts we don’t hear about. Does this war machine just keep turning regardless of the generation alive at the time? As I write this article, part of me feels like I’m idealistic in thinking we can actually resist the machine of the military-industrial complex, but I have some hope in the ability for us to undermine its power through a revolution in the mind. 

My interest in the world of psychedelics was partly sparked by being raised on music from the same era as Black Sabbath, where I understood from a young age that these musicians were taking drugs to enhance their creativity, as well as looking outside the box when it came to wider social issues. While the 1960s are often thought of as the decade of ‘Free Love’, it was a period marked by social upheaval, global conflict, and political assassinations. 

The emergence of notable psychedelic figures such as Timothy Leary presented a challenge to the existing paradigm, and possibly the war machine more specifically. His phrase “Turn On, Tune In, and Drop Out” was popularised in 1966, and in 1967, he gave a speech at the ‘Human Be-In’ in front of 30,000 people at a gathering at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, where he spoke these famous words. The ideas behind the concept of ‘Turn on’ was to activate your neural and genetic equipment to become aware of the different levels of consciousness, with ‘Tune In’ denoting the way in which we can act harmoniously with the world around us and integrate our insights, and lastly ‘Drop Out’ meant an active, selective, and graceful process of detaching from unconscious or involuntary commitments. This might have been thought of in the same scope as high-school ‘dropouts’, but when we contextualise this with the increasing conflict in Vietnam, could it be that Leary was being quite specific regarding the war draft and wanted people to drop out of this involuntary commitment?

These efforts were unfortunately successful in the grand scheme of things, despite a large number of men in both the USA and Australia evading the draft. Some have argued that the relationship between psychedelics and the 60s/70s counterculture was nothing more than a hedonistic foray into the world of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, which ultimately derailed research into the psychotherapeutic benefits of these substances. Leary has been historically viewed as something of a ‘trickster’ archetype in the psychedelic subculture, challenging the power of the ‘king’ who, in this context, would be the power structures that keep us trapped in the involuntary commitments, which often involve killing people in faraway countries we have no business being in. 

I understand where there is a feeling of a missed opportunity, where perhaps a less radical approach would have resulted in psychotherapeutic research not being derailed – but was this all derailed intentionally? While it speaks more to conspiracy theories, is it so far-fetched to suggest that the countercultural movement was intentionally amped up to promote the more hedonistic sides of psychedelics? Some have even suggested that the CIA itself introduced LSD into the wider American culture after the MK Ultra experiments, which ran from 1953-1973, attempted to utilise psychedelics as potential weapons of mind control against their enemies. Could these chilling experiments and intentional derailment have denied the potential of psychedelics, when consumed responsibly, to bring people together in peace and harmony? 

Different barriers can be dissolved through engaging with feelings of empathy, oneness, unity, compassion, and joy, where we can find new connections and potential pathways to healing. The essence of community allows us to not just engage with the healing power of psychedelics on our own, and I’m certain that we get more out of these experiences within the context of community, especially when we have a challenging time or even go through a state of psychedelic crisis. 

Psychedelics do have the potential to allow us to reimagine social relations and loosen ideological frameworks, which, for myself and I’m sure many others, is key to the foundations of a psychedelic counterculture. There are, of course, aspects that could be considered hedonistic, but this is also within the context of coming together as a community in joyful expression, which is often infused with the power of different plants and fungi. This joyful expression can often form strong bonds and allow us to feel connected with each other in ways which are usually suppressed by the powers that be, where we might find others with whom we resonate as genuine, kind-hearted souls. Some people might put this down to the effects of drugs, and surely enough, there have been times where I thought I really connected with someone, only for it to just be a passing interaction – but I feel like these kinds of moments are few and far between, and in general, I have made some strong bonds with friends which feel almost everlasting.   

This communal essence and emphasis on the collective seems to be growing, with more attention even being placed on how we think about ways of coming together. We might even look towards the mushrooms that we’re consuming for lessons about this collective energy, with two emerging organisations known as Sporesight and Mycelium Hub embracing the mycelial nature of interconnectedness, intelligence, and emergence to redefine the systems in our society. The idea of mycelium as a decentralised mind that connects different plants and organisms could be seen as a useful map to promote new ways of relating to one another, where we share the necessary resources and create situations where everyone wins. This seems fairly antithetical to the progression of the military-industrial complex, which functions as a permanent economy, even in times of peace, with huge amounts of resources being controlled and funnelled into it. 

Collective and communal frameworks for healing can be seen within certain indigenous communities, where the health of the individual is related to the health of the community and the local environment. The inclusion of ceremony and shared meaning allows healing to happen in a relational sense, where the consumption of psychedelics could be more powerful, having been provided with an appropriate container. Could it be that because we lack these structured containers in the West, we’ve allowed psychedelics to become co-opted by the very paradigm which sought to restrict them in the first place?

I find it uncomfortable that the same paradigm that is seemingly co-opting substances, which could be catalysts for peace, ultimately depends on being in a permanent state of war. The military-industrial complex is a system that relies on perpetual instability under the guise of protection or ‘defence’, and I feel quite cynical when thinking that folding psychedelics into this paradigm will actually do anything to lessen incidences of conflict and death as a direct result of war. 

If psychedelics are to have a role in peace-building, they should be part of resisting the systems which perpetuate conflict, rather than allowing people with a lot more money than the average person to tell us how, when, and why they should be consumed. The increasing absorption of psychedelics into the capitalist paradigm isn’t necessarily surprising – but it is worrying if the desire to increase access to therapeutics comes at the cost of ignoring certain wisdoms or knowledge traditions that are more in line with the idea of community and oneness. 

Psychedelic drug developers, including Compass Pathways and Atai Life Sciences, are backed by investor Peter Thiel, the co-founder of AI-driven ‘defence’ company Palantir, who also has investments in Anduril Industries, which specialises in autonomous ‘defence’ technology. Now, it just seems straight up weird to me that someone would simultaneously want to invest in the development of substances that could heal people’s trauma, while also investing in technology to ensure the efficiency of killing other human beings…‘weird’ doesn’t go far enough – it makes me feel sick and uncomfortable at where everything is headed. Is it a coincidence that investors who are backing the creation of potential war-induced trauma are also making money off the cure for conditions such as PTSD? If war is creating trauma, and trauma generates markets, have psychedelics now become instruments of damage control rather than transformation? Are we as a society resigned to finding psychological sustainability within a violent system rather than attempting to create peace? 

I understand where this resignation lies, and I’m sure there are many who would say this article is idealistic, and just doesn’t take into account the complex nature of war or the sheer amount of money being pumped into it as an industry. So is this system too big to fight against, and should we just accept that all we can do is balance out the trauma with some healing? 

With conversations surrounding concepts of ‘net-zero trauma’ from MAPS founder Rick Doblin, is the psychedelic world concerned enough with creating a more peaceful society? Or is it that any ideas of real peace are too complex, so the next best thing is to allow people the opportunity to work through their responses to this messy world? I’m not denying the importance of utilising psychedelics such as MDMA and psilocybin mushrooms to provide real healing for people who’ve experienced the trauma of war, or more recently, ibogaine being utilised as a treatment for Traumatic Brain Injury. But when do we start to talk about the never-ending conveyor belt of veterans who will continue to need these kinds of treatments? 

Healing trauma in this way might perpetuate the war machine, where protocols are being developed to even provide active serving soldiers with psychedelic treatment to reduce potential incidents of trauma on the battlefield. When I spoke to psychedelic researcher Robert Forte about MDMA therapy and PTSD, he asked why it is that post-traumatic stress disorder is considered to be a ‘disorder’ – his point was that traumatic responses are natural when humans are placed in these horrific situations, and the ones with the real disorders are those who come back totally unaffected. 

The mainstream psychedelic narrative treats PTSD as purely a medical issue, rather than it being symptomatic of a wider political disease of death and destruction. When killing people becomes too profitable during active genocides, it’s hard to talk about putting a stop to this way of doing things. But perhaps there is some potential for psychedelics to find their way into creating a society that views peace and reconciliation as being more appealing to investors than war. 

There are some efforts being made to utilise the power of psychedelics for reconciliation, such as the experiments with Israelis and Palestinians drinking ayahuasca together, which might yield positive outcomes in the long term. The emotional and relational power is arguably massive, along with the possibility of potential reconciliation. However, I think we should exercise some caution while the political and physical apparatus of genocide and oppression is still in place, as of two weeks ago at the time of writing this article. I’ve got some discussion surrounding this, and while I’m sure psychedelics like ayahuasca can be beneficial in achieving peace, we might need to first do away with the systems which create conflict in the first place. Psychedelics cannot be a substitute for dismantling systems of oppression, and ceremonies aren’t able to neutralise tanks, borders, or occupation. 

Do psychedelics actually have any power in being tools for resistance and decentralised consciousness, or have they simply been accommodated by the existing system? Are the impacts of these substances still shaped by the same structural patterns that catalyse us to seek out something different? If we try to imagine new ways of engaging with the world and each other, it might involve radically altering systems to create more peace and social equity, which won’t be easy. 

The impact of meaningful psychedelic experiences seems to be positive on therapeutic outcomes (and life in general), with many people feeling a sense of unity or reverence, love and peace, alterations in time and space, and difficulty expressing the experience with words. These kinds of feelings may create something of an inflection point in people’s lives, where the impact of these experiences can profoundly impact certain paths or pursuits. The joy I’ve found within creative psychedelic experiences, particularly from the perspective of creating music with others in my band, has massively impacted the way in which I engage with the world – I find myself always looking for others to co-create with, and while this might slow things down and potentially lead to missed opportunities, I find myself drawn more towards a place where the ego is not so important. I understand where the creativity is flowing from, and I don’t take ownership of it, but simply recognise and hold the space for it. 

What I enjoy about co-creation in this sense is being able to temper my ego, where I recognise that I need just enough of a concept of self to be able to be a physical entity that is holding an instrument, but not too much in case the performance becomes about me rather than the music. Providing this meaning and context to the creative situation ultimately shapes the outcome, where things tend to operate in quite a peaceful and joyful way. The importance of intentionality is crucial to shaping the way in which our world could become more peaceful, and we should be careful to note that psychedelics don’t automatically make people more peaceful, despite what people such as Paul Stamets think regarding mushrooms making “people nicer, smarter, and more intelligent”.

The people and systems we have in place are what make the world more peaceful, and while ideas of ‘world peace’ can be seen as being idealistic, we might be able to engage with concepts of ‘systems thinking’ by looking at the complexity of the world from the perspective of relationships. When we take the system as a whole and start to ask if it’s working for everyone or not, then this radically challenges models based on profit and win-lose scenarios. Could we start to see a shift where psychedelics begin to impact us in turning away from the system that enforces the belief of a permanent state of war? This doesn’t necessarily mean war and violence ending, but it could mean that we find new ways to disconnect from the endless ‘banality of evil’, as Hannah Arendt described it when speaking about the actions of those in the Nazi regime who thoughtlessly followed orders. This is not to say that we disconnect from what is happening – quite the opposite. In disconnecting from the banality and the thoughtlessness, we adorn war with the only accurate description of it being truly evil.

There seems to be potential in psychedelics to connect us with an expanded consciousness through profound and joyful interactions with others, as well as thinking about the world in more of a holistic way, which could help us to live more harmoniously with our natural world. This has the ability to create a sense of togetherness, which could, in essence, reduce the propensity for engaging in war. 

I’m reminded here of a quote from the late American comedian Bill Hicks when speaking about the impacts of mushroom experiences on the wider society: 

What's gonna happen to the arms industry when we realize we're all one. Ha ha ha ha ha! It's gonna fuck up the economy! The economy that's fake anyway! Ha ha ha! Which would be a real bummer. You know. You can see why the government's cracking down... on the idea of experiencing unconditional love.

I'm aware, however, that there’s a danger of romanticising the benefits of psychedelics, particularly when we think about indigenous use. The danger of contextualising psychedelics too much within the scope of individual healing might miss the wider context of cosmological renewal and maintenance of spiritual health to keep the world alive. It might not necessarily be about us as humans coming together to create a more peaceful world, and there’s even evidence to suggest that some of these indigenous communities engage in spiritual and physical warfare, sorcery, and witchcraft. Some of these groups include the Yanomami shapori (shamans) in the area of the Upper Orinoco River in Venezuela, who engage in hostile acts against neighbouring communities to inflict misery and death. There is also the concept of Tsentsak, which is a practice that exists throughout the Amazon basin involving the creation of invisible pathogenic projectiles or magical darts, which can be utilised either for healing or sorcery. 

This is to reiterate that psychedelics don’t make us inherently peaceful, loving, or nice to each other – but what they can do is disrupt systems of thought that keep us trapped under the foot of an industry which is just going to keep expanding through further industrialisation and the use of AI in the frontlines of warfare. 

Could psychedelics potentially detach us from an association with hierarchy, nationalism, and dehumanisation? My hope is that I continue to meet other like-minded people in the psychedelic space who feel similar to me, where I’m able to connect through feelings of community and togetherness, with the potential to reimagine new ways of thinking. A psychedelic culture that is aligned with peace should resist endless militarisation and refuse to simply medicalise the psychological consequences of structural violence. In this way, we might be able to prioritise reconciliation, justice, and systemic change over individual resilience.

The magic contained within these plants and fungi is wonderful from an experiential perspective, but can we expand this magic to possibly re-enchant our world to where we can imagine ourselves out of a permanent state of war?

Oli is one of our community bloggers here at Chemical Collective. If you’re interested in joining our blogging team and getting paid to write about subjects you’re passionate about, please reach out to Sam via email at [email protected]