IT'S TIME TO EXORCISE THE IDEA THAT ADDICTS ARE POSSESSED BY DEMONS

Bruce Alexander Questions An Outdated Myth About Addiction

Although most medieval superstitions have died out, the myth of demon
possession lives on. In the 19th century, many people came to believe
that anyone who voluntarily consumed distilled liquor became
helplessly possessed, having no choice but to feed an insatiable
craving for the "demon drink".

This idea continued to be applied into the 21st century, essentially
unchanged, to a parade of new drugs, including morphine, heroin,
cocaine, marijuana, meprobamate, barbiturates, methylamphetamine,
benzodiazepines and ecstasy.

All have been said to take control of the people, just as a demon
possesses its victim, and the myth survived modern scepticism because
it was (and still is) spread by governments and police, and by
medical authorities and journals as scientific fact.

The myth is more believable for illegal drugs, because many addicts,
by confessing their initial error of drug experimentation, can claim
to be "out of control" and less fully responsible for their behaviour.

Many scientists have set out to expose the demon drug myth, but found
themselves overpowered by it instead. In the late Seventies, for
instance, my colleagues and I re-examined some simplistic rat
research, which was based on a contrivance that allowed rats to
inject a jolt of heroin by pressing a lever on the wall. Under
certain experimental parameters, these rats would dope themselves
silly, not even taking time out to eat. This was taken as evidence
for the demon drug myth.

But these rats, a highly gregarious species, were isolated for life
and tethered with rubber tubing that catheterised their jugular
veins. Such extreme isolation and discomfort might well make
euphoriants irresistible. We tested this possibility by building Rat
Park, where rats could enjoy the company of their fellows, raise
their pups and run around freely.

We gave them unlimited access to morphine and control rats, kept in
isolation, were also given free access to morphine. The isolated rats
consumed lots of morphine, while the rats in Rat Park took relatively
little. We published the results and waited for the myth of demon
drugs to disappear as the news of our discovery spread. To make a
long story short. nobody noticed.

Now it is 2006, and the myth continues almost unabated. Yet the
evidence against it has become overwhelming. Take, for example, very
recent studies by David Shewan and Phil Dalgarno of Glasgow
Caledonian University and by Hamish Warburton, Paul Turnbull and
Michael Hough of the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, York. Both teams
studied people who have used heroin for years without becoming junkies.

They take their supposedly addictive drug the way the rest of us use
our own habits, crutches or "non-addictive" drugs. Most of them work,
maintain their families, and stay out of trouble. Inadvertently, they
serve as guinea pigs to disprove the demon myth.

Another line of evidence is summarised in my forthcoming book, The
Globalisation of Addiction, which is more directly related to Rat
Park, although based on anthropological rather than animal research.

Many tribal people have been researched both before and after the
destruction of their cultures by European colonisation. After their
cultures were destroyed, addiction to alcohol became a feature of
these formerly non-addicted people. Why did this occur? There is
ample evidence to rule out both the myth of demon drink and that of
aboriginal peoples' genetic weakness for alcohol.

An intact culture, whatever its disadvantages, provides a fullness of
life that rules out addiction. Aboriginal people lived with a sense
of meaning and identity that enabled them to comprehend the world and
feel that they belonged within it. When their cultures were
destroyed, this psychosocial integration disappeared and they turned
to the same artificial satisfactions that sustained their invaders.
The life of an alcohol addict, for example, is not one of solitary
alcohol infusion - rather, it entails intense interaction with other
alcoholics and co-dependents.

Certainly, alcoholic society is impoverished relative to an intact
culture. None the less, it is vastly richer than no society at all.
Colonised aboriginal people were not isolated in cages, like the
residents of Rat Park. Their culture disappeared, even though the
people remained.

Perhaps this view of addiction does not bode well for a globalising
world, but it is better supported than the discredited myth of demon
possession that has obscured these issues for far too long. Moreover,
it points towards fresh solutions to an intractable problem.

Further information: 01225 422 527; www.unhookedthinking.com