Why Are So Many Psychonauts Attracted to the Simulation Hypothesis?

The simulation hypothesis – the proposal that we live in a computer-generated reality – is a philosophical idea that many psychonauts embrace. While tripping, or post-trip, this hypothesis can seem a lot more likely to be true; in fact, it can appear undeniably true. In this post, I will be highlighting some of the different reasons why this idea gains truthiness on or after psychedelics, particularly DMT (the use of which has been growing in popularity).

The connection between psychedelics and the simulation hypothesis has resurfaced again, with excited discussion surrounding the ‘DMT laser experiment’. Stumbled upon by Danny Goler – an entrepreneur and YouTuber – it involves looking at a specific red laser (650nm) projection while under the influence of DMT. This results, for many users, in a perception of the so-called ‘Code of Reality’ – 3D Katakana-like characters (similar to the code in The Matrix). This has been taken as proof that we live in a simulation.

Ed Prideaux covered this story for Ecstatic Integration. It’s well worth a read, especially since it offers much-needed scepticism and nuance regarding common visions of strange code, symbols, or characters that people perceive while on psychedelics. He points to the impact of priming: people being told they will see the ‘Code of Reality’, or expecting or wanting to see it, increases the likelihood of it occurring (not everyone sees the code, by the way).

I’ve also covered this effect of psychedelics in a blog post, as well as in one of the chapters of my new book. I’m wary of siding with the most exciting interpretation of this effect (i.e. the simulation hypothesis). An explanation being mind-blowing (ontologically shocking) is not necessarily a sign of veracity. Given the principle of Occam’s razor, we should also be wary about adopting a more complicated explanation – one that makes more assumptions than is necessary – as this is less likely to be true. (Occam’s razor does not tell us a more complicated explanation is false; it is merely a rule of thumb pointing us to the explanation most likely to be true, i.e. the simplest one.)

The fact that the code effect is replicable – albeit not guaranteed – could also be the result of shared brain architecture and psychology (a topic I touched on here and in my book). The simulation explanation, however, is a more complicated explanation because of the extra assumptions it makes, namely, that it is possible to simulate our reality on a computer and hyper-advanced beings decided to do this. Both assumptions are also questionable.

In an article for Philosophy Now and in a blog post on DMT and the simulation hypothesis, I point out problems with assuming that our reality could, or has been, simulated. We may also have reasons to doubt that hyper-advanced beings, if they were also advanced morally, would decide it was permissible to simulate billions of beings that could suffer. It is also strange to assume that our reality would be coded using a human-like (i.e. Katakana-like) language. This seems more likely to indicate the influence of human psychology (e.g. memories of The Matrix film and priming), rather than genuine reality-creating code. Additionally, not everyone will see the same type of characters on psychedelics: some psychonauts see Katakana-like characters, whereas others might see symbols that resemble Hebrew, Arabic, or Sanskrit characters, or more alien writing. Thus, how can psychonauts meaningfully distinguish hallucinations from genuine perceptions of the purported ‘Code of Reality’?

I don’t want to focus on the philosophical arguments for and against the simulation hypothesis, however; some of these were addressed in some of my previous posts, and they’ve also been covered in depth elsewhere. I’m more interested in the psychology behind the psychedelic-inspired adoption of the simulation hypothesis. And this brings me to another common feeling that one can have on psychedelics.

Independent of, or in addition to, perceiving code-like symbols, a psychedelic experience can involve the sense of ‘breaking through the simulation’. This is particularly common in the DMT breakthrough experience: some users, in fact, see this as the defining characteristic of the experience. One breaks through the veil of simulated reality and enters the base, non-simulated reality, where the simulators (or at least their avatars) exist: these are the DMT entities. (In my post on DMT and the simulation hypothesis, I pointed out some potential problems with the notion that a psychedelic compound could act as a bridge between simulated and non-simulated realities.)

Whether induced by DMT or another psychedelic, a powerful psychedelic experience can be marked by this feeling of encountering fundamental reality (which is ‘more real than real’) as well as the sensation of déjà vu or ‘returning home’. These profound feelings can make the simulation hypothesis seem more likely to be true or certainly true. This type of psychedelic experience – this experience of noesis, or metaphysical illumination – can act as personal, direct proof that we live in a simulation.

Nevertheless, the simulation hypothesis is not the only possible metaphysical correlate of the experience, but it is perhaps the most exciting one for many psychonauts (because of its links with science fiction and extra-terrestrial beings). Psychonauts may be attracted to different philosophical positions after this kind of experience. Examples include the ‘Veil of Maya’ concept in Hinduism and Buddhism (the idea that our perception of the world is illusory) and the Kantian distinction between phenomena and noumena (the similar idea that we experience only the appearance of objects, never objects as things-in-themselves, independent of human sense perception). These latter ideas could also be embraced as the natural conclusion of a certain type of psychedelic experience, and they don’t necessarily commit one to the simulation hypothesis.

Related to the last point is the concept of epistemic loosening, which the philosopher David J. Blacker discusses in his latest book, Deeper Learning with Psychedelics (2024). Epistemic loosening is an effect of psychedelics; it is, in the words of Blacker, “the lived experience of perceptual distortion combined with the self-questioning it can engender…. It is an existential state wherein sensory perceptions alter such that one starts to feel a vertiginous mistrust of them that one does not normally encounter in normal everyday mode.” It is a newfound distrust of our perceptions – a recognition of a distinction between appearance and reality. It is the apprehension that things are not as they seem or that more exists than meets the eye.

Blacker recognises that even mild trips can induce epistemic loosening; even slight visual ‘drifting’ effects can lead one to question how trustworthy and solid our perceptions truly are. We are led to question what we took for granted. This epistemic loosening, or the appearance-reality distinction brought into focus – on an experiential level – is particularly pronounced in the case of higher-dose psychedelic trips. In these instances, strong perturbations in perception or the dissolving of consensus reality – revealing, what appear to be, alternate dimensions – can lead to a degree of scepticism about perceived reality that renders the simulation hypothesis the most plausible explanation.

Part of my motivation for writing this post comes from my interest in the psychology of philosophy: how personality differences relate to philosophical views and how the adoption of certain philosophical views influences us psychologically. The passion with which some psychonauts embrace and discuss the simulation hypothesis, sometimes to the point of obsession, has made me think about the similarities between this attitude and conspiracy thinking. I find that there can be something exciting about the simulation hypothesis – an excitement evoked or magnified by psychedelics – in a way adjacent to conspiracy thinking. Both involve leaning towards the grand narrative, imagining that consensus reality has been orchestrated, and seeing through the deception.

Belief in powerful alien simulators may not be as paranoid as belief in a secret cabal or world government, but sometimes it may have that quality. An obsession with simulation-type thinking can also be a sign of derealisation (the distressing feeling that reality is unreal), as the science writer John Horgan has pointed out on his blog. The philosophical idea that ‘nothing is real’ can be highly troubling for someone in the throes of derealisation, as it may intensify their distress. In other instances, derealisation – which psychedelics can trigger – inspires belief in the simulation hypothesis, as well as other ideas like solipsism (the belief that you are the only conscious being in the universe). Just as conspiracy thinking has been linked to different kinds of emotional distress (e.g. paranoia and not feeling in control), so too may certain instances of simulation-type thinking.

In a previous article, I explored how psychedelics may make some people more drawn to conspiracy theories or, alternatively, how certain personality traits may increase the likelihood of using psychedelics and adopting conspiracy beliefs. Both of these perspectives may help us better understand why many psychonauts become strongly attached to the simulation hypothesis.

Regarding the first perspective, psychedelics can increase trait openness, which is associated with being imaginative, curious, and open-minded. People high in openness have a general appreciation for unusual ideas and like to challenge authority. Whether a person is low or high in openness before trying psychedelics, an increase in this trait after their experience(s) can make someone more open to new ideas, speculations, beliefs, and theories. Such an individual may, subsequently, also be open to conspiracy theories as a way of explaining events and the world around them. Furthermore, since conspiratorial thinking tends to involve an opposition to authority, which openness is linked to, this could make such thinking even more appealing to the highly open psychedelic user.

Similarly, increases in openness may make it easier to consider (and believe in) the simulation hypothesis, especially if one is trying to find a worldview that helps make sense of a perceptually intense or earth-shattering experience. There can also be a sense of defying authority by adopting this belief; like a conspiracy belief, it is a way of rejecting knowledge and assumptions handed down by authorities who conditioned us about what’s ‘real’, or it may be a way of rejecting the false ‘authority’ of our perceptions and regaining a sense of control.

I think it is no coincidence that the whole ‘red pill’ culture, which embraces various conspiracy theories, is inspired by The Matrix. Seeing through ‘The Matrix’ – whether that’s the simulation or the confused conspiracy imagined by Andrew Tate – is a way of regaining a sense of personal control, direct knowledge, and certainty in a world that feels outside of your control, confusing, and uncertain. This is not meant to dismiss or denigrate the simulation hypothesis (it could be true, after all); I draw this parallel only to show how, in some instances, there are common psychological factors at play that increase the likelihood of being attracted to certain beliefs.

This brings me to the second perspective. Being high in trait openness from the outset is associated with an attraction to novel experiences and ideas (which would include psychedelic experiences) and it is also thought to be a strong predictor of conspiracy beliefs. So this could also help explain why many psychonauts are open to ideas like the simulation hypothesis and conspiracy beliefs. There is an underlying disposition that attracts them to psychedelic experiences and unusual ideas, rather than psychedelics necessarily causing the adoption of those ideas (although the experiences may also help to inspire or reinforce belief in those ideas, which they might not do in people with different predispositions and attitudes).

My intention in this post has not been to suggest that all of psychonauts’ beliefs in the simulation hypothesis is purely psychological and can, therefore, be dismissed as baseless. Psychological reasons for adopting beliefs are not valid reasons to reject those beliefs. There can be valid reasons for taking the simulation hypothesis seriously, including altered states of consciousness. Moreover, psychedelic-inspired philosophical beliefs, like the simulation hypothesis, are useful, in that they can inspire broader interest in philosophy and critical thinking. While some cases of psychedelic-simulation thinking can be uncritical, in many instances, this way of thinking can be part of a philosophically rich life.