Too Short for a Blog Post, Too Long for a Tweet 197

Here are a few excerpts from a book I recently read, "Never Enough: The Neuroscience and Experience of Addiction," by Judith Grisel.



I share these stories not to make readers uncomfortable (and I’m sorry if they do) or solely to qualify myself as a bona fide addict. My primary purpose in exposing my story is to illustrate the depths, as well as the breadth (in later chapters), of the addictive experience. I don’t think I was basically a good person who got mixed up with a bad crowd, for instance, or that I was somehow dealt a crummy hand in terms of genes or neurochemistry, parents, or personal history (though these all certainly had an influence). I also don’t think that I am essentially worse than or even different from others: not those spending down their allotment of days under bridges, or in prisons, or for that matter managing PTAs or running for public office. All of us face countless choices, and there is no bright line separating good and bad, order and entropy, life and death. Perhaps as a result of following rules or conventions, some live under the delusion that they are innocent, safe, or deserving of their status as well-fed citizens. But if there is a devil, it lives inside each of us. One of my greatest assets is knowing that my primary enemy is not outside me, and for this I am grateful to all my experiences. We all have the capacity for wrong; otherwise we could not, in fact, be free.

Persistent change in response to environmental input is called learning.

The drive to alter experience is universal. We have been intentionally administering substances in order to alter psychological functioning as far back as we have written records (and likely before). For every advance in our understanding of how the brain works, we discover that there exists a natural product to exploit it. Plants make morphine, cocaine, nicotine, caffeine, marijuana, and a plethora of hallucinogenic compounds naturally, and these substances have been used since at least the beginning of the archaeological record. Alcohol was first brewed about ten thousand years ago in the form of mead from fermented honey and has been popular ever since. The recreational and/or ritualistic use of chemicals has occurred in every human population with the capacity to avail itself of drugs. Nor is drug taking a solely human activity. Countless other species, from other primates to insects, appear to appreciate chemical-induced changes in experience. Most of us have seen cats enjoying the effects of catnip, but many animals eat opiates, and alcohol from fermented fruit is popular among mammals, birds, and insects. One of my favorite examples from the animal kingdom comes from a particular species of ants (Lasius flavus) that fosters beetles (Lomechusa) in an apparently symbiotic relationship where the ants feed adult beetles and nurture their larvae (at the expense of their own colony) in order to regularly partake of a goo exuded from beetle glands that seemingly serves no purpose other than to make the ants really calm. The universality of drug taking across the animal kingdom has suggested to some that such activity may reflect a biological drive, like that for food or sex.

The story of this endeavor—bravado, surprise, then humility—is more or less the story of science in general and a microcosm of my personal path. Fortunately, the majority of scientific progress is measured by improvements in the questions we ask rather than the finality of our answers. While many are convinced that cures are just around the corner, it seems to me that the more deeply we look at anything, the more complex and mysterious it becomes. It’s as if with each additional data point, our realization of how very little we understand increases proportionately; like an onion with infinite layers. While it is a privilege to be part of this endeavor, after many decades in the field I admit I’m not especially hopeful about the prospects of solving something as complex and intractable as addiction anytime soon. For that matter, I’m increasingly skeptical that the solutions are ever going to be found solely in the brain.