Tag: lessons

  • Managing Risk in Psychedelic Assisted Therapy: Lessons from Adventure Sports

    I spent twenty years working as an adventure sports guide.  In my early twenties, I was a whitewater guide on rivers like the Zambezi and White Nile in Africa. In my thirties I worked as a mountain leader, guiding trekking expeditions to Kilimanjaro,  Everest base camp, the Andes and the Himalayas. While it may seem that those working in such fields may be risk-takers, and it may have been true about me in my early twenties, the reality is adventure sports guides are constantly assessing risk, and are in some ways hyper-attuned to risk.

    For the past six years, as a psychotherapist and co-founder of Inwardbound psilocybin retreats in the Netherlands, almost a thousand people have come through our retreat processes. This article explores my perspective on risk from these differing viewpoints. While it may seem that these are very different worlds, I believe there are a lot of similarities between managing risk in adventure sports and in psychedelic assisted therapy.

    My own personal story is one of outward bound to inward bound- at the age of about thirty due to a series life crises (heartbreak, injuries and tragedies I witnessed in the outdoors) I began to look at more inward self-reflective practises such as meditation, yoga and therapy, which slowly and over time, led me to the work I am doing now, not in a planned way, but through the path of my own lived experience.

    As my time working as an outdoor guide was coming to an end, I began to be much more interested in adventure therapy than adventure sports. ‘Being in nature’ rather than ‘doing in nature’. This period coincided with my training as a psychotherapist and moving towards psychedelic assisted therapy.

    Since I was a child, there is something in me that was drawn to exploring the boundaries of my known world, and to going first, more by accident than design, whether that was the first descent of a whitewater river in Iran, or setting up Ireland’s first psychedelic therapy organization. Why that is, I am not sure, but it is in my nature, and I enjoy helping others explore their own personal limitations too and to grow beyond the boundaries of their known world. I do this work with psychedelics motivated by a belief, from my own lived experience and from what I have witnessed, that this work has the potential to relieve human suffering and improve people’s lives.

    On the Nature of Risk

    Life is inherently risky. We make decisions every day to take risks, and few would like to live in a zero risk world. Often, the most significant and rewarding achievements in our lives involve a degree of risk – whether falling in love or starting a business. But today we live in a very risk averse society. In other societies and cultures, through necessity, a higher degree of risk can be seen as acceptable.

    Scouting a rapid on the Blue Nile, Ethiopian highlands 2004.

    It is also true to say that as adventure sports guides or as psychedelic assisted therapists, we have an ethical duty of care to our clients. And so we also must protect ourselves and our clients, especially people who are vulnerable, from taking on too much risk.

    1. Psychedelic-assisted therapy is inherently risky.

    There are certain risks with psychedelic assisted therapy that do not come, or are greatly lessened, in other forms of therapy. These risks include the risk of psychosis or spiritual emergency (kundalini awakening), Hallucination-Persistent Perception Disorder, headaches, nausea, anxiety, dissociation, having a disappointing or underwhelming trip, the increase levels of transference and projection, ontological shock, the altering of metaphysical beliefs or spiritual beliefs, and the risk of being traumatized by a very challenging psychedelic experience. The more serious risks listed here are rare, but they do exist.

    Psychedelic-assisted therapy also has the potential to be, perhaps, more rewarding and beneficial than other forms of therapy. Therefore, we need to create a model of access that minimizes risks and maximizes benefits. We also need to take a critical attitude to what Timmy Davis of Psilocybin Access Rights calls “a hypertrophied risk aversion”.

    We witness this frequently on our retreats, where sometimes people have emotional breakthroughs and  process traumas that have been unprocessed for years or decades,  processing the ‘frozen present ’of trauma as Dr Ivor Browne called it. We often see incredible transformations on our retreats. Physical transformations- literally people looking different afterwards, like a heavy weight had been lifted off them. The stories of transformation and rebirth and redemption. The deep, real, authentic gratitude. Giving voice to those whose voice had been lost or forgotten. An inner change from ” a sense of hopelessness to a sense of hope”, as one of our clients put it on a recent integration call.

    The question, then, is how best to balance the risk/ reward ratio?  If psychedelic assisted has potentially life-changing therapeutic benefits,  what level of risk is ethically tolerable?

    1. We need, as a field, to accept the reality of these risks, not deny them or hide them, and to learn how best to mitigate them.

    There is sometimes a tendency in the ‘psychedelic renaissance’  for proponents of psychedelic assisted therapy to be messianical. It would be more prudent for us to acknowledge and accept the reality of these risks and take steps to mitigate them. We need, as a field, to be more open about talking about adverse experiences. Our job as those working in the field is to define, acknowledge, communicate and mitigate risks as best we can.

    1. The difference between risk and consequences

    Researchers such as Professor David Nutt have demonstrated that psilocybin, for example, has a very low harm score compared to other drugs. While the risks involved in working therapeutically with psychedelics may be low, the consequences may, on rare occasions, be high. It is important to distinguish between the likelihood or probability of a risk occurring, and the consequence or severity of that risk, which may be minor or major.

    Blue Nile, 2004

    In adventure sports environments, risk assessments fall within several broad categories, known as the risk likelihood/ severity matrix. This framework may be helpful for the field of psychedelic assisted therapy when thinking about risk. It is also important to consider potential benefits when talking about risk, and to consider the difference between perceived risk, and actual risk. There is also a clear distinction in risk assessment when making personal decisions, and when leading a group in the outdoors.

    Risk Likelihood/Severity Matrix

    a) The first category is low risk likelihood and low consequences. We could say micro-dosing falls into this category. Teaching novices in an adventure sports environment should fall into this category. In terms of the difference between perceived risk and actual risk, sometimes beginners learning a sport may perceive a high level of risk in a situation where the actual risk is extremely low, learning to climb on an indoor climbing wall, for example. Likewise in psychedelic assisted therapy, sometimes participants can present with increased levels of perceived risk, fear of the unknown. Managing people’s fears, anxieties and expectations is a vital part of guiding in the outdoors, as it is in psychedelic assisted therapy.

    b) The second category is low risk and medium or high consequence. I would put most psychedelic assisted therapy, when done in a carefully controlled set and setting, in this category. Guiding a group on Kilimanjaro would fit into this category. Statistically, Kilimanjaro is a very safe mountain for an almost 6000m peak, but, on rare occasions, the consequences can be high (heart attack or high altitude pulmonary or cerebral edema, which can be fatal).

    Kilimanjaro, 2018.

    c) The third category is high risk likelihood and low consequence. For example, climbing a challenging bouldering problem where the likelihood of falling is very high, but the consequences, falling a few meters on a protective bouldering mat, very low, at most causing a sprained ankle.

    c) And the fourth category is high risk likelihood, high consequence. This last category is usually reserved for people at the peak of their ability taking personal responsibility for their decisions who want to challenge their limits. This last category is unsuitable when guiding a group in an adventure sports environment, unless guiding at a very high end, such as guiding an expedition to K2, and would be unsuitable for psychedelic assisted therapy.

    A version of the risk likelihood/severity matrix.
    1. On the importance of screening

    Careful screening can lessen the likelihood of certain risks occurring. Screening and preparation was also very important in adventure sports, especially when guiding treks to remote high altitude locations, making sure people had the required level of fitness and no major health contraindications. On our psilocybin retreats we have recently been turning away approximately 60% of applicants. While this is necessary and makes sense from a risk management perspective, it is challenging from a business perspective, and also leaves a significant group of people in need of help without a therapeutic pathway. But we do this to reduce the possibility for ourselves, and our clients, from taking on things that we or they cannot handle.

    We work with what we call the ‘walking wounded’, the average human being with their hopes and fears and traumas, not with people in deep psychological distress or who are very unwell. Such individuals may be better off served in a medical model with more specialized care. It is also important for us to be aware of our limitations.

    However, careful screening is not foolproof, as sometimes clients do not disclose, or perhaps are unaware of,  or are in denial about, relevant psychological or medical issues. People sometimes can lie, even to themselves, especially if they are in deep need of help.

    Sometimes participants present on a retreat in a very different psychological mindset they presented with during screening and preparation.  We have found other factors than the usual contraindications to be relevant, such as presenting with an overwhelmed nervous system or in the midst of a major life crisis.

    One of the challenges of working with psychedelics is dealing with the unknowns of the unconscious. By definition, we do not know the contents of our unconscious mind. Despite careful preparation, sometimes people have experiences that they did not expect or were unprepared for.

    It may be that certain substances such as 5 meo DMT or iboga have higher risk profiles than, say, psilocybin. It may also be that certain substances have greater potential benefits for high risk cohorts of people,  such as iboga/ibogaine for severe addiction, and ketamine for suicidality,  which means the risk-benefit equation is different for those substances.

    I believe that the risk of being traumatized by a challenging psychedelic experience can be mitigated by skillful and dedicated integration. I have found that helping people find meaning in their suffering can change what was previously seen as a very negative experience into a positive therapeutic one. One senior therapist in the US  told me that he believed almost anything could be held therapeutically, depending on the capacity of the therapeutic team and the strength of the therapeutic container. While this may be true, it does not take into account just how challenging it can be to hold very difficult therapeutic processes for the therapists and participants involved.

    1. Informed consent

    One part of managing risk is making sure clients are aware of, and give their consent to taking on, the risks involved. One challenge is that it is difficult to fully communicate the changes that may occur as a result of a psychedelic experience to those who have never had a psychedelic experience. Perhaps some form of standardized consent procedure could be worth developing.

    1. We also need to acknowledge that sometimes there will be consequences as a result of those risks, and come up with ways of dealing with those consequences.

    As a field, we need to accept that despite careful screening and preparation, on occasion things may go wrong. The parallels with adventure sport are prescient. In the outdoors, despite careful management of risks, occasionally things go wrong. Over a 20 year period of working as an outdoor guide, especially in the dynamic environment of whitewater rivers, I saw a lot of things go wrong directly and indirectly. This naturally leads to increased risk aversion over time.

    Azores, 2011

    This can perhaps be best illustrated by the following story. I am not a very experienced offshore sailor, but on one occasion, I crewed a catamaran sailing from the Azores to the UK. Halfway across the passage, 1000 km offshore, we hit some heavy weather. I noticed that the skipper,  an incredibly experienced sailor who had circumnavigated the globe several times, including the Cape of Good Hope, was nervous, more nervous than I was as a novice sailor. When I asked him about it he told me that on his first transatlantic crossing, as a relatively novice skipper, he had felt no such fear. I understood why. From his vast experience, he had become more aware of what could go wrong than I was as a relative novice.

    Overtime, you become more aware from lived experience of what can go wrong and the possible consequences. Things do not always go as planned. Often accidents in the outdoors occur, not in high risk situations when people are pushing their limits and very focused, but often in situations where the likelihood of a risk occurring was not particularly high. When you witness and have to deal with the consequences of serious accidents in the outdoors, it changes something in you.

    Northern Norway, 2006.
    1. Consequences I have witnessed in low risk situations

    On two occasions I have witnessed people having experiences that could be described as spiritual emergencies which can look very similar to psychosis. Neither case involved a high dose psychedelic experience. One case occurred after a vipassana meditation retreat on Maui. No psychedelics were involved, but other powerful practices, such as kundalini yoga, were. The second case involved a low dose of psilocybin, not at one of our retreats, but at an indigenous style ceremony.

    In both cases, although the behavior involved was quite bizarre at times (such as talking to trees and persistent shaking and twitching over several days) these people could be held in a supportive and loving environment in nature for several days which was enough to ground them and bring them back to consensus reality.  Sometimes people need more time to come back from ‘between the worlds’ after powerful psychedelic experiences.

    1. My own experience

    In my own lived experience, I recall having persistent hallucinations, double vision, dizziness and vertigo for a week after a Bwiti iboga initiation. The experience was one of the most transformative therapeutic experiences of my life, processing layers of shame I never thought possible. Even at the time, I understood the difficulties were a part of the process. Sometimes the most rewarding things in life are not easy. That said, I was very glad when my eyesight and balance returned to normal!

    It is also important to recognize that these risks are ones we all face, whether in a clinical trial, a legal retreat setting or an indigenous ceremonial setting. The fact of the matter is that any of us working in this field face these same risks. Some of the most difficult and dangerous adverse reactions I have heard about occurred at ayahuasca retreat centers in Peru.

    My point is that extended difficulties after a psychedelic experience could equally easily occur on a clinical trial at Johns Hopkins, Imperial College London, at a legal psychedelic retreat setting,  an underground ceremony, or an indigenous ceremonial setting in the Amazon.  The sooner we collectively acknowledge these risks and potential consequences,  and are able to talk about them openly without shame or fear of judgment, the better. Otherwise, a culture of secrecy, shame, blame and judgment could emerge. What is not in the light, will be in the shadows, as it were. We need to create a culture of self reflection, acknowledging that we can all make mistakes. We need, as a field, to be more open about talking about adverse experiences.

    1. On the power of belief and focus

    When running a large whitewater rapid, we would spend as much time as necessary looking at the line and the risks involved, all of the consequences and potential worst case scenarios. Then a careful assessment would be made, based on all relevant factors including river water level,  skill level, the team and the safety set up involved, on whether to run the rapid, or not.

    Scouting a rapid, Northern Norway, 2006.

    But, and this is the important part, once a decision has been made to run a whitewater rapid, that decision was taken in full commitment, focussing fully in confidence on the desired outcome, with no focus on the worst case scenario. In other words, completely focusing on where you want to go, not where you do not want to go. Focusing on what can go wrong when running a whitewater rapid is an almost certain way to ensure a negative outcome.

    Below Victoria Falls, Zambezi, 2018.

    Perhaps this mindset has some parallels with psychedelic assisted therapy. In the early stages of screening and preparation it is important to address, communicate and acknowledge the risks involved, assessing if it is the right course of action for an individual to embark on.

    Once a decision has been made, in consultation with the participant, that the therapeutic process is suitable for the individual involved, then it is important to move forward with as little doubt as possible, creating the right mindset for a positive outcome. At a recent conference in the Netherlands, “Unveiling the mind: Convergence of Hypnotic and Psychedelic realities”, many speakers emphasized the power of suggestion and belief.

    For this reason, it is important to prime the participants mindset carefully, creating an atmosphere conducive to a positive therapeutic outcome. This can include preparing them in advance for difficult feelings to arise, and emphasizing the normality and purpose of these feelings. Acknowledging that while the process may be challenging, there is a reason for undertaking it. In my experience, once a meaning can be found in suffering, it can allow even the most challenging psychedelic experience to be seen from a positive therapeutic perspective. I often tell my clients that I don’t do this work because I enjoy watching people suffer, but because a light can be found at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes the most challenging psychedelic experience can be the most therapeutic ones.

    It is also important to be mindful that the pressure of making the right decisions can be a heavy responsibility for those working in the field, so creating multidisciplinary spaces for open discussion and supervision is essential.  I am sure I am not the only person in the field who feels this, very deeply at times.This is not something I hear talked about too often, just how challenging this work can be for the therapists involved.

    To conclude, as a field we need to acknowledge the risks and consequences of psychedelic assisted therapy, to agree on how best to communicate, address and mitigate them, to consider what levels of risk are ethically acceptable, to address how to manage consequences, and to consider the possibility of standardized screening and informed consent procedures. In this, we can learn lessons from other fields such as adventure sports.

    This piece was first published in Jules Evans Estatic Integration substack https://www.ecstaticintegration.org/

    Feature Image: An Ethiopian woman crossing a class 6 rapid on the Blue Nile with a new-born baby wrapped in her shawl. A fall here would have meant certain death for both of them.

  • Lessons from the Great Depression III

    Don’t you ever read the papers? Roderick Spode is the founder and head of the Saviours of Britain, a Fascist organization better known as the Black Shorts. His general idea, if he doesn’t get knocked on the head with a bottle in one of the frequent brawls in which he and his followers indulge, is to make himself a Dictator.’ ‘Well, I’m blowed!’ I was astounded at my keenness of perception. The moment I had set eyes on Spode, if you remember, I had said to myself ‘What Ho! A Dictator!’ and a Dictator he had proved to be. I could not have made a better shot, if I had been one of those detectives who see a chap walking along the street and deduce that he is a retired manufacturer of poppet valves named Robinson with rheumatism in one arm, living at Clapham. ‘Well, I’m dashed! I thought he was something of that sort. That chin…Those eyes…And, for the matter of that, that moustache. When you say “shorts,” you mean “shirts,” of course.’ ‘No. By the time Spode formed his association, there were no shirts left. He and his adherents wear black shorts.’ ‘Footer bags, you mean?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘How perfectly foul.
    P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters (1938).

    The above quote may offer a certain hope for those of us who see in each crisis a foretaste of worse to come; that hope is that Fascism can be undermined by ridicule – even while it is gaining traction – as long as a Dworkinian right to freedom of speech abides.

    But I next turn to a writer not noted for his sense of humour, George Orwell, who is central to our understanding the Great Depression, at least from a British vantage. His 1946 essay ‘How the Poor Die’ is a also crucial text for this austerity period, when social supports are being steadily withdrawn and a public health crisis looms large. Such are the consequences, unintended or otherwise, of an awful ideology that has put the NHS into freefall, and the Irish health service into near collapse.

    Animal Farm and 1984, with their simplification of language and distortion of truth from 2 =2 =5 to Newspeak – or in present parlance News International – are curiously prescient for our age. The Communist dystopia Orwell envisaged is not what we have now. Our own is of a different character altogether.

    Lowry, Laurence Stephen; Coming from the Mill; The L. S. Lowry Collection; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/coming-from-the-mill-162324

    Army of Managers

    The great painter of the Depression-era L.S. Lowry once remarked:

    A really efficient totalitarian state would be one in which the all-powerful executive of political bosses and their army of managers control a population of slaves who do not have to be coerced, because they love their servitude.

    This is the kind of Stockholm Syndrome that we have witnessed throughout the pandemic, when even left wing parties previously noted for their resistance to corporate authority, rolled over to have their bellies tickled, as the one percent almost doubled their wealth.

    Lowry, as much as Grosz and Dix, chronicled working-class existences in painting, but as a prose artist he also captured the era beautifully in Coming From the Mill (1930). ‘As I left [Pendlebury] station I saw the Acme Spinning Company’s mill,’ Lowry would later recall. Describing:

    The huge black framework of rows of yellow-lit windows standing up against the sad, damp charged afternoon sky. The mill was turning out hundreds of little pinched, black figures, heads bent down. I watched this scene – which I’d looked at many times without seeing – with rapture.

    His matchstick men and women are best seen in the Lowry Gallery in Salford near Manchester, an area much gentrified now but still recognisably working class. And if you turn away from the main paintings, one still finds the bitter fruits of economic depressions: drunken brawls and young children in virtual rags.

    Brave New World!

    Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World (1932) is a core text of our time. The soma-induced compliance replicates our non-critical consensus of disinformation. Bernard the anti-hero wishes to leave for Iceland, a psychological state many of us wish to flee to now. Like Wittgenstein, I have a preference for a good Fjord.

    In mainland Europe the contradictions of the European Depression are well etched by the greatest of all American writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald. He was an incurable alcoholic by the time he penned his second masterpiece Tender Is the Night, to mixed reviews, in 1934. The lead character Diver is redolent of a lost parvenu generation, a parable for how many of a certain class lose their way on the French Riviera.

    It is cautionary tale of a loss of relevance, context and credibility. In a way, we all must resist a decadent urge to act like Tory grandees on the fiddle amidst the booze at Number 10.

    And what about other European literature for those who want us to “stay safe by staying apart”? Well, the antisemitic Louis-Ferdinand Céline is responsible for at least two prose masterpieces of the Great Depression that lay bay his own hypocrisy.

    His 1932 Journey to The End of Night is a phantasmatic horror story chronicling the Great Depression. It contains a piquant quote that goes some way towards explaining his own moral descent: ‘I warn you that when the princes of this world start loving you it means they are going to grind you up into battle sausage.’ We ought to be wary of artists that achieve great success in their own time, or journalists for that matter.

    He also refers to the “necessary” distance the rich must develop from the sufferings of the poor:

    I hadn’t found out, yet that humankind consists of two quite different races, the rich and the poor. It took me … and plenty of other people . . . twenty years and the war to learn to stick to my class and ask the price of things before touching them, let alone setting my heart on them.

    Jean Renoir

    More than Céline, along with Albert Camus, the greatest French intellectual artist of that period was the film director Jean Renoir. His most significant film ‘La Règle du jeu’ is situated at the precipice of collapse.

    Set in an aristocratic milieu just before the outbreak of the Second World War, it is decidedly jittery, with a real sense of fin de siècle. We find attractive though silly people on the brink of a calamity. It seems now quite relevant as we face unprecedented times, where chaos and uncertainty rule.

    Renoir views the characters sympathetically with Octavia – the voice of moderation – central to the film. Renoir was acutely conscious of being on the brink of disaster, and expressed  an objective humanism with the famous line ‘that everyone has his reasons.’

    In the subjectivity of our time that quote remains a clarion call for a heightened perception of danger, especially as moral relativism gains traction.

    Renoir elaborated in commentary on the film that all cultures are cliquish and have their own rules and protocols of dealing with those who do not observe the rules of the game, or the rule of law. But that is prior to seismic change where brute force supersedes civility.

    Renoir touched a raw nerve. When it opened a right-wing French audience went berserk, in a way similar to the reception in the Abbey Theatre in Dublin to J.M. Synge’s The Playboy of The Western World in 1907.

    Renoir’s acid comment was in effect that these people were doomed, and that the audience reaction showed that ‘people who commit suicide do not do so in front of witnesses.’

    The film has an astute sense that class or poverty more than race or ethnicity is the ultimate determinant of social division. That idea remains vitally important in these absurd politically correct times, and indeed victimhood or assumed victimhood as it is now. Our priorities should be to maintain access to housing, health care and legal representation.

    Welles and Buñuel

    Another of the greatest creative artist of the twentieth century toured around Ireland at the end of the Depression, before taking a job at The Gate Theatre. Later, in ‘The Third Man’ (1949) he made a guest appearance as Harry Lime. One, less celebrated speech. captures the existential dilemma of our time

    If I offered you twenty thousand pounds for every dot that stopped, would you really, old man, tell me to keep my money, or would you calculate how many dots you could afford to spare? Free of income tax, old man. Free of income tax – the only way you can save money nowadays.

    This is a logic that appears to have been adopted by pharmaceutical companies in recent times.

     

    The great surrealist film maker Luis Buñuel was another of the great anti-fascist artist of the Depression-era.  He attacked the prevailing mores of clerics, sexual repression and state authoritarianism with utter clarity and savage wit. This led, unsurprisingly, to periods of exile from Spain and a final hideaway for eighteen years in Mexico.

    The stunning and very brave 1950 film about poverty and child criminality in Mexico ‘Los Olvidados’ (the Forgotten Ones) caused a sensation at the time. Its theme reflects a drift into criminality among the youth in many parts of London and Dublin. Today’s child poverty, exploitation, crime and even slavery were also a feature of the Great Depression era.

    Tell Me Why?

    How does Fascism come about? Well it’s a product of inequality and poverty. You could say: “It’s the economy dummy!” In the period we can find evidence of this emerging among the workers in Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, or the disenfranchised on the streets of Weimar, or the representations of Orwell and Céline who suffer most due to the naked expropriation “adults in the room.”

    Economic depressions create conditions for fascism, or even the new-fangled corporate fascism of our age which represents a triumph of demagoguery and disinformation. So be wary of manipulation and stay flexible, if not unsafe. Facebook and the mass media augment Orwellian tendencies and a campaign of compliance and of induced consent is creating serf capitalism and a potential Malthusian population cull.

    Alas, there is no New Deal or Marshall Plan on the horizon. World leadership is lacking and often far from benign and corporate-led. Apart from resisting manipulation, what all of us at the sharp end of the stick can do is protest to avoid obliteration and not be participants in our own self-abnegation.

    Resist decadence if you can. Survive the new depression: this Great Reset Depression. It will require optimum coping skills not to be culled. And if all else fails, poke fun at the fascists and observe how uncomfortable they become.

  • Lessons from the Great Depression (II)

    Ger-mania…

    Extraordinarily, Germany appears on the brink of following the lead of Austria in mandating a vaccination against COVID-19, as segregation of the unvaccinated continues. We seem to have entered what Gore Vidal described as the United States of Amnesia, as all history is forgotten. So let us cast our mind back.

    I maintain the German Weimar Republic (1919-1933), more than even the U.S. Great Depression, remains the emblem of our age. The comparison is not exact of course, as all analogies break down through the shifting sands of time, but it is useful to review the literature of that period and draw parallels.

    After World War I, when misguided reparations, and a war guilt clause, were inflicted by the victors – with the French and Clemenceau in particular in the driving seat – Germany was crippled with war debts, but crept along until the banking collapse. The period up to 1929 and shortly afterwards was a triumph against great odds of a fledgling social democracy: the Weimar Republic.

    The period is associated with great creativity, and indeed became a synonym for decadence and sexual libertarianism, which made it a soft target for Nazi thuggery. The bonfire of the vanities and the burning of the books was the fascist exhalation of degenerate art.

    Likewise our own Age of Austerity in the wake of the Financial Crisis of 08 has destablised the social and economic structures. We also have had a period of relative freedom, despite the economic pain, but now operate in most countries under a grinding authoritarianism in the face of collapsing health care systems corroded by decades of neoliberalism.

    A begging disabled WW I veteran (Berlin, 1923).

    Tomorrow Belongs to Me

    The Bob Fosse film ‘Cabaret’ (1972) has the fictionally represented Christopher Isherwood in Weimar times represented as leaving Berlin after he hears the Nazi youth sing ‘Tomorrow Belongs to Me’, one of the most chilling songs in a popular film ever recorded; an even more sinister version of the Horst Wessel Song.

    In fact, in the book Goodbye to Berlin (1939) nothing quite as dramatic as that epiphany occurs, just the sense of the persecution of the Jewish community, Communists, dissidents and degenerate races in a sedulous and incremental fashion. This was a fascist authoritarian creep as economic destruction creates victims, but also the externalisation of hatred. The demonisation and demonetisation of the other, crucial also in our own age of unfettered rage and lack of moderation.

    Bertolt Brecht

    The Aesthetics of Resistance

    Peter Weiss made a similar point in his after the event masterpiece, The Aesthetics of Resistance, where in cold retrospect he saw how those with idealism were destroyed.  His masterpiece of memory ends with the execution of his comrades in the Frankfurt Trials; executed and left to hang on fishhooks.

    Bertolt Brecht also saw in genesis and with mystical precision the bloodletting to come in The Threepenny Opera:

    When the shark bites with his teeth dear
    Scarlet billows start to spread
    Fancy gloves though wears Macbeth dear
    So there is not a trace of red

    Now again many want no trace of red. Just bright blue colours. No shades of grey just sanctimonious conservatism.

    The sense of unfolding chaos at the effects of the Great Depression in Germany is well documented in Victor Klemperer’s diary Let Us Bear Witness dating from 1933. He was peculiarly well placed with a protected Christian wife and a Jewish convert to Christianity. Dismissed from his job; furloughed but not sent to a Concentration Camp.

    The rise of fascism was a consequence, then and now, of economic collapse and that is the difference between the American Depression and the German equivalent, but it was a narrow escape for America.

    Roosevelt as a social democrat saved America. but as Philip Roth’s excursus in counter-factual history amply demonstrates there was no shortage of fascist demagogues who could have unseated him, including the folk hero Charles Lindberg. Such is The Plot Against America, where a fascist becomes President. Not then of course, but now?

    But that is getting ahead of ourselves to the endgame. Let us at least anticipate and make plans in the light of a project endgame called The Great Reset, a phrase unerring close to the great leap forward as we enter Chinese corporate feudal times.

    The sense of impending chaos in the Weimar Republic is also well documented by caricaturists such as George Grosz, Otto Dix, and others, many of whose greatest paintings hang as a reminder in Berlin.

    If you look at Grosz’s inelegantly titled Pillars of Society (1926), with the subtitle Shit for Brains, you will see one of the paragons of virtue. It anticipates disaster as the economy collapsed, and the Nazi judges and commissars who would work hand in glove with their jackboot associates.

    Ripe for Collapse

    On its current trajectory, the EU, as Varoufakis recently indicated, is likely to collapse, sooner rather than later, with a pan-Germanic latter day Hanseatic League altready taking its place. Few should mourn it in Ireland and Greece where the social structure has been destroyed through the impoverishment of large cohorts of the population who have falled into homelessness. Ireland is now controlled by hedge funds as a kind of sub-Indonesian corporate client state.

    And what do corporate judges, bankers, lawyers, and politicians do? Well, enforce further austerity in the shape of lockdowns on a docile and far too accepting population. Socially distanced and self-isolated for the near future without a prospect of stability, a sustainable living structure, or affordable rent or housing.

    And what does Weimar art reveal about intellectuals? That they are useless panderers. The paintings of Otto Dix perfectly captures bohemian delirium and ineffectiveness.

    In effect our contemporary consensus neoliberal spouters are spectators on a society falling apart; the collective fiddling as Rome burns. McWilliams in his wine bar.

    So, hand in glove with economic collapse we witness the destruction of the very concept of human rights. The seepage of emergency powers and executive action, documented in the eariler period by the great jurist Carl Schmidt, with disproportionate and excessive measures. Just as the Reichstag fire was used to end democracy in Germany.

    As far as social and economic rights and Weimar was a disaster. Banknote were printed in billion increments with which you could barely buy a loaf of bread.

    Berlin Alexanderplatz

    Perhaps the greatest German novel of the Depression era is Berlin Alexanderplatz by Alfred Döblin, although his neglected earlier novel Mountains Oceans Giants also presages our times, with its harbingers of environmental collapse.

    Döblin also utilises other 1920s anxieties — Malthus, Suffragettes, miscegenation, decolonization — onto the 27th century where Europe is under siege from “hordes” of migrants “flooding” from the Global South. “India-China-Japan” rises as a rival bloc to the New York-London “Anglo-Saxon Imperium,” while fierce clans of women find success in an “unending struggle against patriarchy,” even preferring “taboo” relationships with the alien migrants.

    Science fiction then but becoming recognisable today. The demonisation and demonetisation of others and the migrant. Not one of us.

    Berlin Alexanderplatz was dramatized by Werner Fassbinder in the peritectic chronicle of its everyman German Franz Bide Kopf, convict, pimp, worker; through the swathes of the Weimar republic.

    It is at one level a chronicle of our own time. Dubious associations, flirting with fascism and in passages most relevant and redolent, a panegyric against erstwhile Communist friends, which shows how the everyman is seduced by Utopian ideals:

    We’ve got to have order, order, I’m telling you, order—and put that in your pipes and smoke it, order and nothing else . . . and if anybody comes and starts a revolution now and don’t leave us in peace, they ought to be strung up all along the street . . . then they’ll get theirs, when they swing, yes, sir. You might remember that whatever you do, you criminals.

    Law and Order the totalitarian clarion call. The most important passages are the slaughterhouse and abattoir scenes, which are most unsettling and relevant to our times. Equating the costing of microscopic slaughter of the animals with human slaughter. The expiration of man and beast, or cost-benefit analysis of life. Compulsory vaccination for the herd.

    The Weimar Republic echoes through the ages. and Germany is reverting primitively and Gothically. Atavistic tendencies can be seen with the arrival of compulsory vaccination and vaccine segregation. Austerity unleased dark forces, and there is no genuine social democratic corrective in sight. The Weimar republic ripples through the ages.

    Feature Image: Joseph Goebbels views the Degenerate Art Exhibition.

  • Lessons From the Great Depression (I)

    This is the first instalment of a three part essay on the legacy of the Great Depression..

    The Great Depression began in 1929, leading Wall Street bankers literally to throw themselves from windows. I was shown one such exit site on 45th Street 5th Avenue in Manhattan. Lives were destroyed as a favourable market collapsed. The fundamental point then, and now, about a favourable or unfavourable market is it is always an illusion. Smoke and mirrors.

    Bull leads to Bear and back, and that cycle since 2008 is certainly where we are again, as confidence is lost in markets and neo-liberal non-interventionism. The effect in 1929 emphasised how when America catches a cold Europe contracts pneumonia. In the 1930s, the fragile, well-intentioned experiment in Wilsonian democracy collapsed virtually overnight. Now the effect is global.

    We are now seeing unmistakable signs of stagflation and even hyperinflation, accentuated by the additional disease burden of the virus on health systems subjected to decades of sneaking privatisation; while health inequalities widen, as transnational organisations and Big Pharma – using so-called philanthro-capitalism as a front – collude at the expense of the population at large.

    The prospect looms of fuel and food shortages, decreased life expectancies – already evident before the pandemic – repossessions, and evictions, with limited support in countries without social democratic support structures.

    In terms of civil liberties, we are entering dangerous territory too, with compulsory vaccination and quarantines. A long winter is coming. And what are we to make of most non-essential court cases in the UK being adjourned until September of next year?

    The New Deal

    In 1932 at the height of its destitution, America elected its greatest ever leader the aristocratic bon vivant socialist Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR), who brought in the New Deal to save the country from ruin.

    In contemporary America, no such leadership exists. Biden is no Roosevelt. He is unwilling to develop a true social market. All too many in America are ‘Bowling Alone’ as communities fall apart in a digitally mediated age of social atomisation.

    The Great Depression represented a failure of the American idea of government. Apart from a few dissenters, such as the legendary Supreme Court judge Oliver Wendell Holmes, the business of America has always been business, until it goes bust.

    In a tremendous refutation of free market economics in Lochner v. New York (1903) Holmes said: ‘The third amendment does not enact Mr Herbert spencer’s social statics’

    Holmes was at least a quasi-socialist, who corresponded with Harold Laski. But neither an intellect like him or a proper social democratic deal maker and integrator like Roosevelt is evident in American politics today.

    Obama received money and recruited Goldman Sachs alumni to his cabinet which is a bit like inviting a cuckoo into the nest.

    Studs Terkel

    Hard Times

    Another Chicago native and reporter of the last century, Studs Terkel chronicled American life in his book Hard Times, which is an oral history of the Depression era. Terkel argued that ‘the worst day-to-day operators of businesses are bankers,’ and quotes one source who has fallen on hard times:

    We thought of the poor, at that time, as quite divorced from us, who were not poor. By the exercise of one’s charity, life could be made all right. You would always have the poor with you, they were the unfortunate, and you made donations. You could handle them. It was mildly unpleasant, but not fundamentally upsetting. Now, for the first time, we face the dreadful reality that we are not separated. They are us.

    And another describes a scene of acute desperation:

    They would just walk all over and kill each other. They got more than they ever need that they would just step on anybody to keep it. They got cars, they got houses, they got this and that. It is more than they need, but they think they need it, so they want to keep it. Human life isn’t as important as what they got.

    Image (c) Daniele Idini

    Worse Still?

    I fear that this collapse will be on a greater scale. Indeed, despite deprivation, life expectancies actually increased in America over the course of the 1930s, but since the turn of this century epidemiologists have been predicing a decline.

    The successful application of the ideas of the master J. M. Keynes generated a worldwide social democratic model in the wake of the Great Depression, which became the consensus before the resurgence of neo-liberalism. This has undermined humanity since the late 1970s, and its effect now appear irreversible, given the absence of an alternative Communist model that compelled even governments devoted to capitalism to maintain a basic standard of living and healthcare.

    In contrast, the neo-liberal model of marketisation of human activity has intruded into all sectors of life. This has denuded and in some cases destroyed what Habermas describes as the public sphere.

    A set of unworkable ideas have spiralled out of control, and are generating a disaster. Liberal democracy is failing and becoming unworkable. In effect, the End Of History is the acceptance of discredited ideas, which have led us to this impasse.

    Capitalism is not working because capitalism is not allowing people to work. Joseph Stieglitz, a former economist for the World Bank remarked: ‘Socialism for the rich capitalism for the poor.’ And increasingly basic liberties are being sacrificed at the altar of security.

    Artistic Response

    More than statisticians or economists, artists convey the individual effects of world historical events such as the Great Depression.

    Although written in 1906, Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle is one of the core texts of the Depression, demonstrating the appalling work conditions in the Chicago meat packing industry. Many of his works including Oil, which became the film with Daniel Day Lewis ‘There Will be Blood’ attack unbridled capitalism and its depressing effects on the human spirit.

    Two crucial quotes from The Jungle are as follows:

    The rich people not only had all the money, they had all the chance to get more; they had all the knowledge and the power, and so the poor man was down, and he had to stay down.

    And

    Into this wild beast tangle these men had been born without their consent, they had taken part in it because they could not help it; that they were in jail was no disgrace to them, for the game had never been fair, the dice were loaded. They were swindlers and thieves of pennies and dimes, and they had been trapped and put out of the way by the swindlers and thieves of millions of dollars.

    Sinclair paints a familiar scene, now throw in the disinformation of our post-truth universe and you have a neo-liberal Molotov cocktail. At least at that time there was vibrant social commentary, and a less captured media.

    All little lives need protecting as Sinclair and above all John Steinbeck in his portrayals of the Okies in dustbowl America clearly recognised. His great novel The Grapes Of Wrath depicts a migration from the dustbowls of Oklahoma to California, which turns out to be no Promised Land, as any unionization or collective action is supressed, just as has been the case over the last thirty years.

     

    More relevant than even Sinclair or Steinbeck as an evocation of the Depression-era in America is a book by James Agee, and photographer Walker Evans called Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, first published in 1941. The phrase originates in the Jewish religion. The complete sentence is: ‘Let Us Now Praise Famous Men and the fathers that beget them.’

    The book, partially governmentally funded, chronicles dustbowl America. Evans adds the pictorial record of the devastation wreaked by the great economic depression in the dustbowl.

    From the pictures of Walker Evans it is noticeable how grim the faces are. The anguished expressions on children is particularly harrowing. Lives lost by neglect and the degradation of poverty.

    It’s A Wonderful Life

    Austerity

    It is well documented how austerity in our present age has killed people by stealth through the gradual removal of social supports. Lawyers and NHS workers might share the same fate. Whatever ramparts of social protection that previously existed are being whittled away by Covid. And

    Any yet we cannot give up. Produced and directed by Frank Capra in the wake of World War II, ‘It’s a Wonderful life’ is about a good banker memorably played by Jimmy Stewart, who helps people to build new homes.

    Capra, made many great films, but ‘It Happened One Night,’ which came out at the height of the Depression captures a spirit a popular spirit of defiance. So there is cause for optimism in poor folk.

    Featured Image: Lunch atop a Skyscraper, Charlie C. Ebbets, 1932.