3 The Absolutist Monolith
There exist two contrasting ways of approaching the explanation of drugtaking and these two different world views are evidenced throughout the study of human behaviour as a whole. They can be found not only in the works of sociologists and psychiatrists, but in the commentaries of politicians, journalists, priests, or of anyone, in fact, who tries to understand and interpret the social world around him. I will term these two perspectives absolutism and relativism.
Absolutists view society as an organic entity, comparable to the human body: each part has its place to play in an organized division of labour, and there is, over and above individual ends, the notion of the general social good. Relativists, on the other hand, would contest this, seeing society as a multitude of groups each with their own ends and interests who agree and co-operate over certain issues but who conflict, sometimes drastically, over others.
Now from these initial stances a number of fundamental points of contrast between the two schools can be made, concerning both their explanations of drugtaking and their advice- as to what ought to be done in order to ameliorate the problem. I will deal with this point by point, illustrating by quotation the absolutist approach, for this is the perspective that almost totally dominates the study of drug-taking.1
1. Unanimity of Values
The absolutist sees the vast majority of people as agreeing as to what is correct behaviour and what is reprehensible; moreover, that there is a large degree of agreement over the ends that people should pursue and little conflict between the interests of different groups. Behaviour according to this consensus is seen to be functional to the organic system they envisage as society, and behaviour which violates this consensus is disfunctional to society. Legal drugtaking — alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, amphetamines and barbiturates on prescription — is seen in this light as behaviour in tune with the values of society and as activities which help to keep the system functioning. Illegal drugtaking, on the other hand, is contrary to these values and deleterious to the body politic. Thus: 'Hashish is a social evil and the International Conventions are of great importance for the protection of society' 2
Relativists would deny the possibility of speaking ex cathedra on behalf of society. Different groups, they would argue, have different norms as to appropriate drug use. What is deviant or normal then cannot be judged in an absolute fashion: one cannot say in a definitive matter that to act in a certain way is absolutely deviant or normal; one can only judge the normality or deviancy of a particular item of behaviour relatively against the standards of the particular group you choose as your moral yardstick. To act in a certain way then can be simultaneously deviant and normal depending on whose standards you are applying. In this perspective, the smoking of marihuana may be normal behaviour amongst young people in Notting Hill and deviant to, say, the community of army officers who live in and around Camberley; similarly, to drink to the point of collapse may be valued behaviour amongst merchant seamen but would be anathema to members of the Temperance League.
Relativists do not deny a consensus in the sense that a majority of opinion can occur concerning a particular type of behaviour — e.g., the use of heroin — but that this is not sufficient to justify embracing an organic image of society. There is a vast difference of opinion in Britain, for example, as to the proper use of alcohol and cigarettes, and there are sizeable minorities which take barbiturates, marihuana or amphetamines. Moreover, the relativists would suggest that a consensus, where it exists, is often created by the persuasive manipulation of public opinion through means such as the mass media, by groups possessing sufficient power to propagate their own particular values and notions of appropriate and reprehensible behaviour. In the field of drug use they would point to the activities of the Temperance Movement in the States before prohibition, and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics before the 1937 Marihuana Tax Act.
Drugtaking, then, is not necessarily deviant nor essentially a social problem; it is deviant to groups who condemn it and a problem to those who wish to eliminate it. To talk of a personified society which must be protected is to camouflage a simple conflict between two groups: those who wish to pursue a particular activity unmolested and those who feel that this activity threatens their interests or conceptions of proper, behaviour.
2. The Pathology of Dissent
The absolutists pursuing their organic metaphor regard what they term 'deviant' drug use as pathological, analogous to the diseases of an organism, and society like a human body is said to reject such behaviour in order to maintain its status quo, its equilibrium. Drug use arises, they argue, in areas of society which are 'disorganized', where there is 'anomie' or lack of norms as to appropriate behaviour.
Drugtakers are seen as existing beyond society, as being amoral and without norms. Thus a group of Paris 'beatniks' are described as 'more asocial than anti-social, and their "protest" remains passive. In their escape from society, the drug is the passport to an existence divorced from reality — a "trip", which despite the appearance of a group life which is more gregarious than communal, remains a solitary one. This group is composed not so much of psychopaths as of young, immature persons for whom the drug may be the cause of complete desocialization.' 3
They exist in a private world, concerned with their own individual pleasure and desires, relating to others 'only to obtain further drugs.
The relativist rejects the notion of drug use as a pathology; it is simply not possible to regard all the various activities popularly considered as deviant (for example, homosexuality, communism, heavy drinking, marihuana smoking, sexual promiscuity, abortion, prostitution and petty theft) as diseases in the body of society. For if we were to extract all these deviants we would have precious little left of the organism which the absolutists postulate! Rather, the relativists suggest that what is a deviant form of behaviour is a matter of opinion, that this opinion varies, and that the use of the word 'pathology' and organic metaphors are subtle means by which one group (who consider themselves normal) combat the values of those they consider different from themselves.
Further, there is a tendency for the middle-class observer to view social organization aimed at goals which he disapproves of as disorganized, normiess behaviour. Instead, many drug groups, the relativist would argue, are subcultures with finely spun norms, dictating what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour for the drug user. The tendency to view alternative values as an absence of values is, I suggest, a convenient method of ignoring groups whose existence questions the basis of one's own social world. Nowhere is this practice more prevalent than in descriptions of those drug subcultures which espouse values concerned with hedonism and excitement as major goals of life.
Thus D. P. Ausubel writes of the heroin addict:
He fails to conceive of himself as an independent adult and fails to identify with such normal adult goals as financial independence, stable employment, and the establishment of his own home and family. He is passive, dependent, unreliable, and unwilling to postpone immediate gratification of pleasurable impulses. He demonstrates no desire to persevere in the face of environmental difficulties or to accept responsibilities which he finds distasteful. His preoccupation with a search for effortless pleasure represents both an inappropriate persistence of childhood motivations which he has not yet outgrown and a regressive form of compensation for his inability to obtain satisfaction from adult goals.4
Again, 5 5 per cent of addicts at the US Public Health Service Hospital were classified as having 'psychopathic diathesis', which was recognized by nomadism, irregular employment, unstable marital history, and tolerance to all forms of thrill-seeking vice. What is forgotten in these reports is that hedonism, thrill-seeking, lack of employment, unstable formal marriages, are often the norms of the groups from which drug users emanate. The middle-class social scientist with his nuclear family, planned life and careful leisure takes his pattern of life as the only possible form of civilized existence, any deviation from this being regarded as profoundly asocial.
3. The Denial of Personal Integrity
The absolutists' view of society is that of a vast area of agreement on the edge of which lie a tiny minority of deviants. These are the diseased cells in the body of society. Now this is seen as a pathology not only on the social level but of the individual' aswell. That is, the individuals who make up the social pathology are personally inadequate. A person is seen as being unable to act 'normally' because he, for various reasons, has not inculcated the norms of society. There are two major reasons given for this: either he is undersocialized or he is 'sick'.
The undersocialized drugtaker is seen in Freudian terms to have a weak superego, an inadequate ego and — if a man — lack of proper masculine identification. He is, in short, psychopathic. His lack of norms is underlined by the fact that he has a personality which is immature and infantile. Thus:
Most individuals addicted to drugs are considered self-centred and narcissistic and are interested only in satisfaction of their own primitive needs. This is a very infantile form of behaviour; it is acceptable in infancy but not in adults. These individuals have not matured in a healthy way and so do not accept mature roles. They make poor husbands and wives, fathers and mothers; they are poor sexual partners because their sexual development has been retarded. They experiment with many types of sexuality but usually they cannot accept a mature heterosexual role. They are not interested in giving to anyone; they are interested only in receiving.5
This sexual inadequacy is often seen as lack of correct masculine identification. Thus Chein and Rosenfield write in a revealing passage:
An extraordinarily high proportion of adolescent addicts can be seen as 'pretty boys'. They would not appear out of place in a musical comedy chorus. They are vain in their appearance. They spend much time preening. They are preoccupied with clothes, which they wish to be of the finest materials and the latest styles. They spend much time before their mirrors experimenting with their hair, moustaches,_and goatees. . . . Adolescent addicts do not look, behave, or deport themselves as adolescent boys usually do; they do not try to appear manly, rugged, vigorous, energetic, rough-and-ready. These deviations suggest that they have strong feminine identification. . . . They try to impress the observer with their independence and bravery, with their ability to function well in the most difficult circumstances. They know better than any middle-class professional person what life really is. They boast of their exploits with women, crime, and narcotics, to prove what strong men they are. In one of Shakespeare's telling observations, 'they do protest too much'; the psychologically trained observer cannot help but see through to the problems of masculine identification beneath the veneer of masculinity. 6
Thus, drug use is associated with both social and personality disorganization. Moreover, the two are easily linked, as it is argued that the 'weak' family structure associated with socially disorganized areas gives rise to personality inadequacies. The absolutists substantiate their thesis by pointing to the groups where the incidence of drugtaking is high, namely the lower working class and the Negro, both groups which, they would argue, have poor childrearing techniques and are therefore populated by inadequate personalities. Additionally, the high prevalence of adolescent drug users would be attributed to their as yet immature personalities, coupled with the aggravating factor of living in areas where social control is weak (e.g., the ghetto or the large university campus).
A few absolutist theorists, however, would argue that a proportion of drug use occurs in individuals with essentially normal personalities, but that these personalities have been 'infected' by contact with the 'virus' of addiction. The spread of addiction is thus often seen — especially by medical epidemiologists — as similar to an epidemic and the victim is regarded as being 'sick'.
The relativists would not denigrate the notion of under-socialization, but would insist that it is used over-often and without reference to the particular group of which the person referred to is a member. If there are many different 'correct' ways of behaving in a society, then there are as many ways of being 'normal'. To suggest that a person with different norms from oneself is psychologically inadequate is merely a very convenient method of negating any argument as to the validity. of ,one's own way of life. Drugtaking groups are seen by relativists as having their own particular norms against which the non-drugtaker would seem personally inadequate and undersocialized. The teetotaller in an Irish drinking group would soon find that the — in his eyes — asocial gathering has a finely developed set of values and required behaviour, against which he would have a hard job measuring up. Moreover, if he were to find himself immersed in such a society for any length of time, he might begin to interpret his own lack of social ease as a sign of personal inadequacies. We might well take note here of the finding of Richard Blum,7 that regular LSD users have a conception of the straight world as consisting of people who are uptight or — if they deigned to use the vocabulary of psychoanalysis — consisting of obsessive neurotics pursuing material and social status in an unbalanced manner!
There is, however, a proportion of drugtakers for whom the rhetoric of the absolutist theorists is appropriate. But these individuals are a product of this school of though rather than initially fitting their conceptions of weak superego, inadequate ego and lack of masculine identification. For the sick role of the drug-determined individual, unable to make adult choices in terms of sex and occupation, is attractive to certain individuals. In short, the absolutist notions of the inadequate personality are embraced in a self-fulfilling manner by a proportion of drugtakers, This is especially true as the therapeutic roles in clinics and hospitals are manned by doctors who invariably sport an absolutist perspective on drug dependency. These clinics, in fact, can be viewed as institutions where drugtakers are socialized into fitting absolutist theory.
The relativist would deny the simple connection implied between social and personality disorganization. For the apparent social disorganization of slum areas is often merely organization centring around different ends than those of respectable society. And what is perceived as the faulty child-rearing practices of individual families is more easily understood as differential socialization occurring in different groups and utilizing different techniques. To grow up as a mature adult in Harlem demands the inculcation of different norms by different means than does that needed to produce a well-balanced citizen of Manhattan.
The transparency of the absolutist fallacy of personal inadequacy becomes most apparent when one considers that gigantic segments of the population, for example, the Negro and the working class, are all cast into the limbo of supposed social inferiority. For instance, Hans Eysenck writes that: there is no reason to assume any differences between social classes with respect to conditionability [i.e., genetic difference], but, there are very good reasons for assuming considerable differences between them with respect to the degree of socialization to which they are subjected [i.e., childrearing differences]. Particular attention has been drawn, for instance, by Kinsey in the United States to the different value laid on the repression of overt sexual urges by middle-class and working-class groups. He has shown that where, for middle-class groups, parents put very strict obstacles in the way of overt sexual satisfaction of their growing children, and inculcate a very high degree of 'socialization' in them, working-class parents, on the whole, are much more lax and unconcerned. In many working-class groups, for instance, he found pre-marital intercourse viewed as not only inevitable, but as quite acceptable to the group. 8
Similarly, with respect to aggression, there is a considerable amount of evidence from a variety of sociological studies, carried out both in the United States and in Great Britain, to show a tendency for middle-class groups to impose a stricter standard upon their children than the working-class groups. The open expression of aggressiveness which is frowned upon in the middle-class family is often not only accepted but even praised in the working-class group.'
That premarital sexual intercourse and overt aggression should be considered as essentially asocial is a gross middle-class ethnocentrism which demands that all sexuality must be expressed in marriage and all aggression channelled for the sake of King and Country, if it is to be allowed the designation of truly 'social'. Considering, then, the blind prejudice which the word 'drug' arouses, it is not surprising that the insinuation of personality defects is automatically affixed to all and sundry who stray beyond the narrow psychotropic limits of the middle-class behavioural scientist.
4. The Printed Circuit Theory of Socialization
The absolutists and relativists have basically different perspectives on human nature. To the absolutist, man's psychic make-up is like a blank sheet of metal on to which are transplanted the homogeneous values of society. Men are, so to speak, programmed to react in the right way at the right time: to emit appropriate responses to prearranged cues. Here and there, however, the machinery goes wrong: child-rearing is inadequate, social control of adults is weak, or the norms inculcated are unclear, and then imperfections enter into the printed circuits of normality. Individuals, through no fault of their own, are unable to fulfil the 'normal' roles expected of them. Human deviancy is seen as not morally reprehensible, because it is a product of forces which are beyond the control of the individual.
For the relativist man, in contrast, is seen as standing apart from the values and ideas which he receives from his surroundings; accepting or rejecting them as he sees fit and, more important, creating new values in order to make meaningful his particular social and material situation. Now, if culture is seen as a collection of approved solutions to problems occurring amongst members of society, then what the relativists are suggesting is that' here and there groups of people experience problems for which there are no suitable available solutions in their culture. They therefore in certain situations create new cultural responses and forms in the face of the inadequacy of the 'given' society in which they find themselves. The widespread use of drugs in our society suggests that they provide potent solutions to certain problems prevalent through the population. The difference between legal and illegal drugtaking, however, is that by and large the taking of illegal drugs indicates the evolution of hitherto forbidden solutions to individual or collective problems which the legitimate drugs — alcohol, caffeine, and nicotine — are unable to solve acceptably.
In terms of the relativist's framework, man is morally responsible for his choices to the extent that his fate is not determined, but partly in his own hands. Moreover, if people have free choice it is a mystification to regard people who deviate from your own standards as Tr; it is better to say candidly that one disapproves of a particular form of behaviour (e.g., the use of amphetamines) for moral reasons and will do all in one's power to eradicate such practices, than to hide behind a mask of therapy and a vocabulary of healing. At the same time, the relativist will freely admit that a certain proportion of drugtakers willingly act as if they were determined creatures but would argue that such fatalistic life styles are initially chosen and introjected; they are not proof that man in essence is devoid of free will.
5. The Meaninglessness of Deviancy
Ronald Laing, writing about his work in psychiatry, notes how the circumscribing of mental illness in a medical metaphor makes it appear meaningless. For even sane behaviour can be seen as unintelligible if one omits the social context in which it occurs:
Someone is gibbering away on his knees, talking to someone who is not there. Yes, he is praying. If one does not accord him the social intelligibility of his behaviour, he can only be seen as mad. Out of social context, his behaviour can only be the outcome of an unintelligible 'psychological' and/or 'physical' process, for which he requires treatment. This metaphor sanctions a massive ignorance of the social context within which the person was interacting. 9
What must be done is to perceive madness as a rational, intelligible process seen in the light of a particular social context, rither than a disparate psychological or biochemical sequence existing in a vacuum.
The absolutist approach to the study of drugs closely parallels the traditional perspective on mental illness. For not only are drugtaking groups regarded as asocial, but drugs themselves are seen to be desocializing'. Thus drug-induced behaviour is seen as bizarre, meaningless and uninhibited; it represents the release of primitive, instinctual passions. The drugtaker is seen to be temporarily transported beyond the control of society. The focus for the study of drugtaking is, therefore, limited to the pharmacological properties (the programmed effects) of the drug in question or to the presumed repressed psychotic or asocial tendencies inherent in the psychic make-up of the individual drugtaker. Both these approaches are essentialist: the former pharmacological analysis assumes that a certain type of behaviour is automatically released in any individual under the influence of a specific drug; whilst the latter, psychological explanation, insists that the drug merely triggers off inherent repressed tendencies which are part of the essential nature of the individual in question. Both assign to social factors a minor role: they may cause peripheral variations in drug-induced behaviour but are never a major focus of analysis.
Because of the tendency to focus on drugs rather than on the groups which take drugs, the absolutists frequently overemphasize the importance of drugtaking to a group. Moreover, they often explain the totality of a group's behaviour by reference to the pharmacological properties of the drugs used. Thus, a sizeable percentage of students who smoke marihuana do not place more than a peripheral importance on its use. But the alarmed observer may well perceive such casual use as a central activity of the group and attribute personal difficulties — dropping out, alienation of individuals — directly to the use of drugs.
The relativist would argue that one must understand drug-induced behaviour in terms of the interaction between the physiological effects of the drug and the norms of the group of which the drugtaker is a member. The effects, as I have outlined in the first chapter, are socially induced and structured. Drugs are vehicles in which, in the majority of cases, alternative values are realized in the form of behaviour rationally comprehensible in terms of these norms. Drugs enable individuals to discard easily the precepts and parameters of one form of social reality and immerse themselves in the values of another. Thus it is only where the individual is atomized and isolated from any culture concerned with the regulation and interpretation of drug experiences that overtly bizarre and psychotic behaviour occurs. In short, the relativist position sees drug-induced behaviour as meaningful, and obeying more or less distinct norms. The task, therefore, is to explain the origins and content of the culture the drug-taker belongs to and then, and only then, the role drugs play in it. Carrying on from this basis, one turns to discuss the effect of the drug itself on the culture in terms of its physical effects on its members and, indirectly, through the manner in which its norms are structured and changed because of social reaction against the use of the specific drug in question.
6. Machiavellianism of a Few
According to absolutist theory, drugtaking is embraced willingly only by a small number of individuals with severe personality defects. But where the numbers of individuals taking drugs is manifestly large, an extra twist to the theory is added, namely the notions of the corruptors and the corrupted. Drugtaking is seen as the result of a small clique of maladjusted individuals (the corruptors) manipulating or seducing a majority of innocent or immature bystanders (the corrupted). Thus every marihuana smoker is induced to begin the habit because of the activities of a machiavellian and economically motivated pusher. This is a subtype of the general approach to deviancy which sees, for instance, every strike as being engineered by a small group of Trotskyites and student sit-ins as due to the work of foreign agitators. The corollary of this, as far as the social control of drug-taking is concerned, is that the 'corrupted' must be viewed in a humanitarian light and treated leniently whilst the 'corruptors' must be dealt with in a severe manner. They are the 'real', intransigent deviants. Thus, typically 'enlightened' opinion distinguishes between the penalties doled out for the possession and the supply of drugs.
Now, cdntrary to this analysis, the relativists would maintain that the antagonism directed towards the `corruptors' is a mystification which, by scapegoating a few, manages to maintain the illusion that everything would be alright in the social system if only we could eliminate the small minority of saboteurs intent on destroying its organic unity. For the corruptors — corrupted notion is part and parcel of the organic view of society; the corruptors being seen like germs which are infecting an otherwise healthy organism. When Winston Churchill wrote of the Germans . . . it was with a sense of awe that they turned upon Russia the most grisly of all weapons. They transported Lenin in a sealed truck like a plague bacillus from Switzerland into Russia, he was utilizing such a simplistic model: offensive in its naivete as it is brilliant in its rhetoric.'
The relativist would argue that illicit drugtaking is a response to particular problems faced by individuals. They are not corrupted, but willingly embrace particular solutions to their social difficulties. William Burroughs understood this well when he wrote:
If we wish to annihilate the junk pyramid, we must start with the bottom of the pyramid, the addict in the street, and stop tilting quixotically for the 'higher ups' so called, all of whom are immediately replaceable. The addict in the street who must have junk to live is the one irreplaceable factor in the junk equation. "When there are no more addicts to buy junk there will be no junk traffic. As long as junk need exists, someone will service it.'10
7. Denial of Authenticity
The meaning that individual drugtakers ascribe to their activities is ignored. Junkies, for instance, are said to be notorious liars and, besides, the 'real' causes of their action are only understandable by experts who possess 'insight' into the problem. Distant and obscure occurrences in the drugtaker's past are evoked as the 'real' explanations for such present actions. Thus, for instance, he injects heroin into his veins because his father was a weak and ineffectual figure, or he smokes marihuana because he was fixated at the oral stage of his development as a child. Thus the present action — the taking of a drug — is denuded of any meaning that the individuals themselves attribute to it. Their ideas are merely rationalizations for the hidden forces which impel them to take drugs.
There is a prevalent tendency to analyse dependency in terms of the distant past: the addict is either seen to have a personality predisposed to drug use, which was laid down in the early years of his life or, as theorists like Lindesmith would have it, a conditional reflex acquired in the early stages of addiction. Both these approaches are characterized by ignoring the present situation of the drugtaker and suppressing any meaning that drug use may have to him. It is a strategy which serves to take attention away from the present by invoking individual failings or weaknesses which have occurred in the past. As for the drugtaker's own interpretation of the present, it is 'unrealistic'; far from being closely related to the cause of addiction, this lack of realism is seen as a typical effect either of drug-prone personalities or of the drug itself. Thus Chein and Rosenfield' 11 note how the addict is characterized not only by a weak ego, defective superego and lack of masculine identification, but also by his unrealistic aspirations and 'irrational' distrust of major social institutions. (All these 'deviations' being a function of the addict's family background.) By realistic aspirations they mean 'ambitions which are plausibly related to potential and existing opportunities with the desire and ability to defer gratification in the service of long-term goals'. That is, there is the implicit notion that 'lack' of realism or discontent is not an authentic interpretation of the addict's universe but a product of his unsatisfactory family background. The most gross mystification occurs however when they discuss 'distrust of major social -institutions'. 'Normally', they write, 'we take for granted that the governmental agencies which protect our lives, property, and rights, and that the educational, religious, and charitable organizations which are concerned with our welfare and personal development have a core of humanitarian concern, honesty, and trustworthiness. This does not prohibit us from regarding particular instances of such institutions with disapproval, anger or cynicism. But, despite such instances, we accept the institution as a valid and potentially useful social arrangement. We generally trust persons who embody these institutions until they betray this trust; should they deceive us, we criticize them as individuals, though we maintain much of our regard for the institution per se.' Normality, then, is spelt out here as involving a basic acceptance of society as it stands; distrust even by the dispossessed or the underprivileged is regarded as symptomatic of personal and family pathology.
The relativist, although interested in the biography of the individual drugtaker, would maintain that events distant in his past are likely to provide only vague insights into his present drug use. Moreover, we must analyse dependency not in terms of impersonal forces impelling the individual on the road of addiction, but in terms of the meanings which the drugtaker gives to the forces which impinge upon him. We must know his interpretation of the situation, his assessment of reality. To do this we are concerned with the examination of such phenomena as the argot, imagery, values and ideology of the drug user. This is not to say that the drugtaker has a necessarily accurate perspective on his position, but that his evaluation of his own universe is a major component governing his behaviour. Furthermore, it can be argued that the inability of the absolutists to take cognizance of the opinions of the drugtaker is a function of their consensus notion of society. For consensus implies that reality is monolithic; it embraces the notion that there is no other 'reality' from where the total system can be criticized, and in doing so effectively translates cultural failure into accusations of personal inadequacy. 'There is one effect (of marihuana)', Winick writes, `that may be among the most insidious of all: the habit of "tuning out" on reality when reality appears to offer some discomfort. The habit of escaping from reality and side-stepping problem situations by taking marihuana may lead to a potentially valuable member of society becoming a regressed and minimally functioning person!'12 Here we have in a nutshell the absolutist fallacy concerning reality; namely, that the only 'reality' worthy of such a name is that which involves the individual embracing the work ethic and contributing fully to his role in the, hypothetically agreed upon, division of labour within society.
8. Affirmation of Objectivity
The study of social phenomenon, it is argued, should be value-free and should utilize objective concepts such as in the natural sciences. Values merely decide which problems we are interested in; they must not be allowed to distort the evidence we examine.
Robin Blackburn has criticized this position on the grounds that it suggests that: 'once theories are thoroughly cleansed of all "value judgements" it is believed that they will be governed by the wholesome discipline of objective facts. The predictable consequence of this attempted purge of values is to orient theory and research towards certain crude over-abstracted value notions masquerading as scientific concepts.13 An 'ideology of objectivity' emerges which pretends to have evolved value-free concepts but which in fact has as its yardstick of objectivity middle-class values. Psychopathy', 'anomie', 'sundersocializationon', `undersocialization', 'weak superego', 'lack of masretreatismification', `retreatisne: all the jargon of the psychiatrist or sociologist specializing in the study of drugtaking is loaded despite its semblance of impartiality. It is a view of one group's behaviour as seen from the perspective of members of the liberal professions, the 'enlightened' middle class. It 'tells the story' as it appears from their position and, as Becker 14 has so rightly pointed out, there is a 'hierarchy of credibility' so that the tales of those at the top are viewed as more 'realistic' than those of the lower echelons of society. Now what does it mean to obtain an unbiased picture of, say, the heroin user, when the police, the psychiatrist and the addict in the street are spinning widely contrasting stories: each maintaining they know it as it really is?
The subject matter of the social scientist is radically different from that of the physical scientist. For, whereas the chemist or physicist creates concepts by which the physical universe becomes meaningful, the data of the social scientist is already conceptualized. Molecules do not give meaning to their behaviour, only scientists do; human beings on the other hand are social animals to the extent that their behaviour has purpose and meaning. It is the meanings individuals give to their behaviour that is the starting-point of analysis, for without understanding the norms of particular groups or individuals their actions become mere physical movements, random gestures without rhyme or reason. The social scientist then, a man in the world with values, faces the problem of describing and analysing the behaviour of other men whose values are different from his own. Now all would be well if the sociologist could put aside his values and merely record in an 'objective' fashion the values of others. But three major problems occur here: contradictions of meaning; conflicting models of social action; and the possibility of translation of values.
If we take a British heroin addict, for example, we might find there to be several interpretations of his actions: the psychiatrist defining him as a sick, asocial individual with lack of will power and a weak personality; his neighbours who see him as a libidinous ne'er-do-well, voluntarily pursuing illicit pleasures; his own peer group who define heroin use as a freely chosen esoteric and exotic cultivation of pleasure; and the 'junkie' himself who is not sure whether he is sick or whether he is 'free', whether he is morally right or wrong. He is surrounded therefore by individuals who conceptualize and evaluate his world differently and he himself reflects many of these basic contradictions. To explain his behaviour we must understand how it is meaningfully related to the addict's definition of the situation and how the position he finds himself in has come about. What meaning, then, does heroin have to the addict, why does its use seem appropriate to him, and what has generated this situation? The meaning that the addict gives to his addiction is a product of the culture which he associates with (e.g., his peers), powerful individuals and groups whom perhaps he respects (e.g., the psychiatrist), and the degree of relevance which these interpretations have to his own problems. Various groups compete, then, to provide meaning for the addicts. The social scientist, by choosing one interpretation of the situation (e.g., by using a psychiatric model), enters into this conflict by promoting one definition of reality at the expense of others. And the majority of deviants in our society — with the exception of highly ideologically buttressed individuals such as Marxist revolutionaries — are, because they are imperialistically surrounded by groups intent on redefining their reality, exceedingly vulnerable to such moral advances from significant experts in the outside world. Thus, the situation is radically different from that of the physical sciences in that it is inconceivable, for instance, that molecules could introject the theories of the physicist and begin to proceed in accordance with his notions; but this is precisely what often happens in society. The theories of the social scientist reflect his own value position and restructure, and at least superficially self-fulfil themselves in the world they attempt to objectively interpret. This is not to suggest, of course, that all theories whatever their content will have equal validity as long as they are accepted by the individuals involved. Many are false in their premises although causal in their effects, and as such are mystifications which transform the world whilst at the same time concealing the reasons for their efficacy. For instance, it may be incorrect that all heroin addicts come from broken homes and have inadequate personalities, but an addict believing himself to be such may well behave dependently in the future and seemingly substantiate the theory., That he has willingly embraced such an image of himself because of its utility to the problems that he faces is an interpretation which both psychiatrist and patient for their own separate reasons are no longer willing to admit as a possibility. Moreover, as a diagnosed 'dependent' person he will be constantly placed in institutions designed officially to deal with such psychological 'types', yet which have the self-fulfilling consequence of changing the individual in precisely this direction. The values held by the social scientist have a very real effect, not only on his interpretation of the world but on the changes that occur within it.
The various models which are used to analyse social behaviour contain within them important valuations as to the nature of man and the sanctity of the system. Thus* the image of man as a mechanism, a printed circuit responding to stimuli of his environment, contains the value premise that man's capacity to create, his ability to choose his action rather than be propelled by circumstance, is grossly limited. It amputates a significant portion of human potentiality. It is, moreover, political in the sense that it provides a 'potent' myth which it is in the interests of many to propound, as it is the fate of a multitude of others to unwittingly embrace; for its espousal severely limits man's ability to conceive of both radically alternative social orders and modes of human consciousness. As David Ingleby in a recent critique of prevalent trends in psychology argues: 'It is through its potency as a myth that the psychological (i.e., mechanistic) model of man can be seen as serving ideological interests: to the extent that the human sciences are taking over from religion the function of providing man with a self-image, they should be seen in the same light as religious myths.15
For absolutists, the meanings which drugtakers assign to their experiences will be ignored; instead they will explain the sensations in terms of the dehumanized language of physiology and pharmacology. The ecstatic religious rites of the Native American Church are reduced to disturbance of the balance between sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems, or an accumulation of adrenochrome in the system. It cannot be overstressed that to explain the biological basis for a social phenomenon is merely to explain the substratum that makes it possible, not to explain the phenomenon itself.
In contrast, therefore, we must look at the language and argot which the drugtaker has evolved himself. Herein lies the key to the meaning of the drug-induced experience. Some drugtakers will of course have no special vocabulary at all (e.g., housewives who use barbiturates). This signifies that they are interpreting and structuring their experiences in terms of the wider culture to which they belong. Others, however, will evolve elaborate and sophisticated argots which involve the genesis of alternative value systems and radical reinterpretations of 'reality' (e.g., hippies). The well-intentioned social scientist may wholeheartedly agree that the subjective interpretations of the effects of drugs are invaluable in the study of drug use. What is necessary, however, is to measure these subjective states scientifically or else be thrown back on fairly incomprehensible impressions. In other words, we must translate the language of the drug-using subculture into that of the scientific community using objective concepts and precise calibrations. But what if such a translation represents a violation of the reality we are depicting; what if by the very fact that a subculture has arisen in opposition to middle-class values the translation of its language is in itself a political act; a neutralization of an argot which had arisen in order to describe a new type of reality, back into the language from which it had evolved? Language contains within it its own valuations and limitations. As Aldous Huxley put it:
Every individual is at once the beneficiary and the victim of the linguistic tradition into which he or she has been born — the beneficiary inasmuch as language gives access to the accumulated records-of ether people's experience, the victim in so far as it confirms him in the belief that reduced awareness is the only awareness and as it bedevils his sense of reality, so that he is all too apt to take his concepts for data, his words for actual things. That which, in the language of religion, is called 'this world' is the universe of reduced awareness, expressed and, as it were, petrified by Ianguage.16
Thus the language of the scientist can contain both the value judgement that authentic human experience exists only within particular limits and, in addition, compresses cultures which are intuitive, non-linear and symbolic into the rational world of the logically linear, analytic and literate. The transcendental experience fares rather badly whentranslated into the jargon, for example, of experimental psychology.
This is not to suggest that we are limited to reproducing the meanings suggested by the individuals involved in a particular social situation. In terms of our own values and perspective we can, for instance, say that the explanation of behaviour given by a particular heroin addict is a smokescreen behind which his real motives are hidden, or that the categorization of a particular drug experience is a mystification or at least a misconception. But we must take cognizance of the meanings given to the situation by the actor whilst at the same time making clear where we stand, what values underline our conception of human nature and the social order.
9. Recation of Reality
Reification is the apprehension of human phenomena as if they were things, that is, in non-human or possibly supra-human terms. Another way of saying this is that reification is the apprehension of the products of human activity as if they were something other than human products — such as facts of nature, results of cosmic laws, or manifestations of divine will. Reification implies that man is capable of forgetting his own authorship of the human world, and, further, that the dialectic between man, the producer, and his products is lost to consciousness. The reified world is, by definition, a dehumanized world. It is experienced by man as a strange facticity, an opus alienium over which he has no control rather than as opus proprium of his own productive activity.
Thus Berger and Luckmann 17 describe the fashion in which social reality is viewed like the physical world as a phenomenon which exists out there, beyond the creation of man. It is perceived as a world wherein we can discover laws and regularities and by judicious application of these principles manoeuvre men into positions more favourable in terms of this reality, but we cannot alter reality. The heroin addict, for instance, is seen as suffering from a well-nigh incurable disease; it is one in which the stages can be clearly mapped out and where the outcome is a foregone conclusion. It is an illness for which a cure has not yet been discovered, a sickness which the experts attempt to unravel but which is not within the addict's own comprehension or making.
Similarly, in terms of the relationship between a particular drug and crime or the likelihood of escalation between marihuana and heroin, generalizations obtained from a certain number of cases are assumed — as in the physical sciences — to have a high probability of accuracy, in whatever situation the particular drug is used.
Thus Professor G. Joachimoglu, a distinguished member of the United Nations Drug Supervisory Body, writes:
In a paper presented to the International Congress of Criminology in Paris in 1950, Professor C. G. Gardicas mentioned a group of 157 individuals, by no means criminals initially, who became addicts and criminals after smoking hashish and were sentenced for threats, blackmail, murder, offences against property, and other offences. It is not necessary to go into further details. Hashish is a social evil and the International Conventions are of great importance for the protection of society.18
Thus, because marihuana use correlates with crime in 557 cases this connection is endowed with the same causal significance as the observation that the ignition of hydrogen and oxygen together invariably yields water. It is seen to involve universal laws unrelated to the desires of the individuals involved or the theoretical aspirations of the investigators.
A more recent example is the reports that appeared in the same week in the newspapers of the Sharon Tate murders and the My Lai massacre in Vietnam. It was suggested that the film star and her friends were murdered by Charles Manson and his family because they were high on speed. Likewise, the My Lai massacre occurred because American troops had been smoking marihuana. From these observations, marihuana and methedrine were linked irrevocably with murder, strange and unpalatable acts became instantly understandable and Manson and the GI's were somehow excused of responsibility for their behaviour. In fact, whereas it is undoubtedly true that drugs facilitate many forms of behaviour, it cannot be argued that they cause behaviour. This is a reification of their properties and of human nature. It is to the strange cults of Hollywood that we must look for an explanation of the murder of popular film stars. is in the dehumanizing effect of predatory wars that we will find the reasons for the murder of innocent Vietnamese peasants. It is deep in the matrix of American culture that the violence of both incidents becomes understandable.
The relativist would argue that generalizations about drugs 'must be always grounded in specific cultures and particular social situations. Moreover, that the theories evolved by social scientists often have self-fulfilling effects on the very drug users about whom the theories are erected to explain. Thus they may introject the meanings given to the situation and act 'predictably', or they may be placed in certain structural situations where they have no option but to fulfil the prophecies. Either way the social world is not merely interpreted by the social scientist; it is changed by him. Observer and object exist in the same interconnected universe, not in watertight inviolate compartments.
10. Missionary Nature of Therapy and the Mystification of Protest
There has arisen in modern societies concomitant with the division of labour in technological spheres, and the widespread segregation of groups one from the other, an elite of specialized experts whose task it is to explain 'the deviant' to the hypothesized 'normal' citizen. These latter-day priests must explain what is perceived as unusual in terms of the values associated by their audience as usual. In this process, utilizing the theoretical and therapeutic ploys listed above, they circumscribe and negate the reality of values different from their own. They do not explain, they merely explain away. They are well-trained men, but the rigour of their training has enabled them to view the world only from the narrow-bfinkered perspective of their own discipline. The fragmentation of knowledge concomitant with specialization has encouraged the strict compartmentalization of analysis. In this instance, pharmacology, medicine, psychology, sociology have approached the subject of drugs as if true knowledge could be obtained by the simple addition of the knowledge accumulated in each field. The tight interplay between different levels of analysis is thus omitted (e.g., the dialectic between social values and pharmacological effects of a drug), and the phenomenon appears as a meaningless asocial activity. As a result such experts can, from the vantage of their cloistered chauvinism, scarcely grasp the totality of the social world even in terms of their own values let alone take a critical stance outside of these values. We are producing what Lucien Goldmann has described as the specialist who is simultaneously illiterate and a graduate of a university.
The task of the expert is not only to explain the deviant to the rest of society; he is also expected to reform or treat the rulebréaker. Certain personnel are therefore selected to mediate between society and the deviant; chief of these — apart from the police and the clergy — are the social worker, the psychiatrist, the psychologist and the criminologist. These individuals perceive themselves as having primarily the therapeutic role of assimilating 'the poor', `the maladjusted', `the immature personality', 'the undersocialized', 'the sick', `the adolescent gone wrong' into the ranks of a posited consensus of decent well-integrated people to whom they perceive themselves as belonging. That their clients, the deviants, often interpret their attempts at therapy as being punitive and coercive is regarded as lack of self-insight; that a few renegade experts attack them as being professional ideologues of middle-class values is regarded as a sad loss of objectivity.
The expert, because of his position of power vis a is the deviant, will tend to maintain his theoretical 'insight' by a process which has been called negotiating reality,19 that is, he elicits from the deviant precisely those responses which tend to verify his theories and this is a negotiated situation based on the notion that if you — the deviant — are co-operative and helpful and show insight into your problem, we will be cooperative with you in so far as we will obtain material help for you, obtain you an early release, not give you shock therapy, give you warmth and sympathy or protect you from the law. In short, successful therapy involves convincing the deviant of the stupidity of his own ideas of what he is doing and a translation of these ideas into those of the therapist's. This is called self-insight.20
But the expert has not only the power to negotiate reality, to determine the sort of information which he is willing to see and hear; he has also, as we have seen, the power to change reality. W. I. Thomas's famous dictum, that a situation defined as real in a society will be real in its consequences, has immediate relevance here. For one would expect the stereotypes that the expert holds of the deviants to have very real consequences for their future behaviour and the way they perceive themselves. Thus, particularly in those cases where individuals are incarcerated in total institutions for therapeutic reasons, the drugtaker begins through a self-fulfilling process to begin to look, to act, and to feel like the anomic, undersocialized, psychotic, amoral individual which the therapeutic personnel portray in their theories of deviancy.
Any protest by the deviants themselves against the treatment which they receive is tackled and mystified by subsuming its explanation in terms of the general theory. Thus Chein and Rosenfield write of heroin users:
When the hospital staff attempts to impose controls which would be accepted, though not enjoyed, by most adolescents, adolescent addicts perceive this as a threat to their masculinity, so they are regularly involved in such problems as truancy, keeping late hours, refusing to get up in time for breakfast and refusing to turn the lights out at some curfew hour. They will let nobody tell them how to conduct themselves, for to do so implies that they are not man enough to know themselves. ..21
Many displayed difficulties in establishing rapport, some to almost a psychotic degree. Evasion, suspicion and hostility were common responses to the diagnostician or to the therapists who sought to intervene in their maladjustment.22
The fragmentation of knowledge, the segregated middle-class existence of the expert; his power to negotiate reality and ignore protest, the seeming fulfilment of his hypotheses, all combine to ensconce him securely in an absolutist position. The tendency towards absolutism is even more marked amongst experts on drug dependence than those in other fields. For as drug use poses obvious medical and physic), logical problems, there has been a tendency for physicians and pharmacologists to specialize in this field. Now the natural scientific training of such professions militates against the likelihood of their perceiving fundamental differences between physical and social phenomena and their study of the human body encourages them to utilize organic and functionalist models of society.
But to explain the prevalence of absolutist theories merely by the restricted empirical knowledge and theoretical perspectives of its practitioners is insufficient. It is also in the interests of such individuals to maintain such a viewpoint. First, the deviant threatens the reality of the expert. As R. Laing put it:
Only when something has become problematic do we start to ask questions. Disagreement shakes us out of our slumbers, and forces us to see our own point of view through contrast with another person who does not share it. But we resist such confrontations. The history of heresies of all kinds testifies to more than the tendency to break off communication (excommunication) with those who hold different dogmas or opinions; it bears witness to our intolerance of different fundamental structures of experience. We seem to need to share a communal meaning to human existence, to give with others a common sense to the world, to maintain a consensus.23
To view the deviant in a new light would demand that the expert views his own position in society in terms of a new perspective. Thus the drugtaker often embraces cultures which contain notions of hedonism or of transcendental experience which challenge the taken-for-granted world of the expert. Moreover, even for those experts who reject the values which typically underwrite their social position, there are controls and fears of a less subtle kind. As Dennis Chapman succintly urged:
The social sciences accept the stereotype of the criminal, for to challenge it would involve heavy penalties. The penalties are: to be isolated from the mainstream of professional activity, to be denied resources for research, and to be denied official patronage with its rewards in material and status.24
'Whereas absolutist myopia buttressed by self-interest explains the reluctance of the social scientist to stray beyond the narrow terms of reference which are the limits of his discipline, it does not indicate why such a model should be acceptable in the first place. True, by denial of authenticity, affirmation of objectivity, imputation of pathology, etc., the deviant act is rendered both meaningless and unattractive, and powerful weapons of social control are manifest. But further than this, there is a correspondence between this model of human nature and the type of man necessary if the system is to function efficiently and without effort. David Ingleby has expressed this better than anyone when he writes:
A reifying model of human nature, by definition, presents men as less than they really are (or could be): to the extent that a society requires men (or a certain proportion of them) to be thing-like in their work, orientation, thinking and experiencing, such a model will constitute both a reflection and a reinforcement of that society (reinforcing because men tend to become what they are told they are). If labour is mechanical, it is convenient that those who have to do it should think of themselves as a species of machine: if freedom of choice, imagination, the pursuit of untried goals and experiences, are seen as threats to a sacrosanct 'social structure', then man should learn he is a species of simple computer, a 'limited capacity information channel', incapable by definition of creating such goals and meanings. Above all, he is confronted in the possibility of being understood as a species of thing, with the threat of ultimate banality: denied the facility to transcend in any way the material out of which he is made, all value must lose value for him.25
It is a peculiar irony that it is only when men act like scientific objects that they become precisely understandable objects of physical science.
It would be unfair to see the experts on human behaviour as cynical men; they are often as not sincere and dedicated people who see their role in a progressive light. They seek to treat the criminal and the drug addict, not to punish him. But this ideology of therapy is immensely more insidious and allows dimensions of coercion and punishment which even the most 'unenlightened' and vindictive supporter of the moral order would never have the tenacity to pursue. Ronald Laing writes:
To work smoothly, it is necessary that those who use this stratagem do not themselves know that it is a stratagem. They should not be cynical or ruthless: they should be sincere and concerned. Indeed, the more 'treatment' is escalated — through negotiation (psychotherapy), pacification (tranquillization), physical struggle (cold-packs and straitjackets), through at one and the same time more and more humane and effective forms of destruction (electroshocks and insulin comas), to the final solution of cutting a person's brain in two or more slices by psycho-surgery — the more the human beings who do these things to other people tend to feel sincere concern, dedication, pity; and they can hardly help but feel more and more indignant, sorrowful, horrified and scandalized by their actions. As for the patients, the more they protest, the less insight they display; the more they fight back, clearly the more they need to be pacified; the more persecuted they feel at being destroyed, the more necessary to destroy them. And at the t nd -of it all, they may indeed be 'cured', they may even express gratitude for no longer having the brains left to protest against persecution. But many do not. This only goes to show, as one leading psychiatrist said to me: 'It's the white man's burden, Ronald. We can't expect any thanks, but we must go on.'26
It is possible, therefore, for the expert to intervene in social situations with the self-righteousness of a humanitarian; his position buttressed by a monolithic conception of reality, a value-free notion of the truth and with the varied stratagems of absolutist theory available as weapons against any challenge to this order.
I will close this section with a quotation which illustrates the extremes to which absolutism can evolve. I do this not because its physical manifestations are any more dangerous than its social and psychological interventions, but to draw attention to the consequences of believing that a science of society is possible without the intervention of human judgement and value.
Those who have learnt something of the damage to intellect and personality which resulted from the old-fashioned operation of leucotomy may well recoil from the idea of using operation in the treatment of drug addiction or in any other psychiatric condition for the fear that it may do more harm than good, introducing undesirable new features both physical and mental from the destruction of vital areas in the brain. However, stereotactic surgery, in which a needle is guided by X-ray control to a small target area, allows very accurate lesions to be formed without any damage to the normal function of the brain.
In 1960 I showed that a small lesion in a portion of the brain known as the substantia innominata, by selective division of tracts concerned in emotional reaction, could produce a profound influence upon the intensity of depression, anxiety, or tension without harmful effect on the intellect or personality of the patient. This method has been shown to be helpful as an aid to the therapy of addiction in three ways: by eliminating the emotional reaction of the withdrawal period, by diminishing craving for drugs after operation, and in selected cases by producing long-term effects in relieving depression, anxiety, and personality defects which otherwise contribute to the all too frequent relapse which occurs after medical treatment. Primitive emotions are damaging emotions in psychiatry and are subserved by primitive cortical areas of the brain which are located in the cingulate region on the inner side of the frontal lobe, in the posterior orbital aspect of the frontal lobe, and in the anterior temporal regions. I have been able to show that fibres from each of these widely scattered areas can be divided at a point of convergence where they traverse the substantia innominata on their way to the area in which emotional reaction is produced. The insertion of radioactive seeds which only produce necrosis in the brain for a distance of 2 mlms on each side of the seeds, ensures that division of these fibres is obtained without any disturbance of the normal function of the brain which remains capable of fulfilling all its normal functions without any blemish to intellect or diminution in the intensity of normal emotional feeling or normal emotional reaction and control.27
1 I have dealt with the absolutist position in relation to the phenomenon of crime in general, elsewhere. See J. Young, The Zookeepers of Deviancy', Catalyst, Summer two, pp. 38-46.
2 G. Joachimoglu, 'Natural and Smoked Hashish', in Hashish: Its Chemistry and Pharmacology, Ciba Foundation J. and A. Churchill, London, 1965.
3 'Some Cases of Addiction to New Drugs Among the Paris "Beatniks", United Nations Bulletin on Narcotics, t969,vol. 21, p. 30.
4 D. P. Ausubel, Drug Addiction, Random House, New York, z958, p.42.
5 R. Rasor, 'Narcotic Addiction in Young People in the USA', in 44dolescent Drug Dependence, (ed.) C. Wilson, 1968, p. x8.
6 Chein et al., Narcotics, Delinquency and Soda! Policy, Tavistock, London, 1964, PP. 224-5.
7 R. Blum (ed.) Utopiates, Tavistock, London, I96.
8 H. Eysenck, Sense and Nonsense in Psychology, Penguin, London, 1958; P. 294-
9 1R. Laing, The Politics of Experience, Penguin, London, 1967, p.
10 William Burroughs, The Naked Lunch, Corgi, London, 5968, p. so. 62
11 Chein et al., Narcotics, Delinquency and Social Policy, Tavistock, London, 1964, p. 265.
12 C. Winick, 'Marihuana Use by Young People', in Drug Addiction in Youth, (ed.) E. Harms, Pergamon Press, London, 1965, p. 25.
13 R. Blackburn, 'A Brief Guide to Bourgeois Ideology', in Student Power, (ed.) A. Cockburn and R. Blackburn, Penguin, London, 1969, p. 2o5.
14 H. S. Becker, 'Whose Side are We On', Soda! Problems, no. 14, Winter 2967, pp. 239-47.
15 D. Ingleby, 'Ideology and the Human Sciences', Human Context, no. zx,June 1970.
16 Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception and Heaven and Hell, Penguin, London, 1959, p. 22.
17 P. Berger, and T. Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality, Allen Lane, The Penguin Press, London, 1967, p. lo6.
18 G. Joachimoglu, 'Natural and Smoked Hashish', in Hashish: Its Chemistry and Pharmacology, Ciba Foundation, J. and A. Churchill, London, 1965, p. 5.
19 T. Scheff, 'Negotiating Reality', Social Problems, no. 16, Summer 1968.
20 P. Berger and T. Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality, Allen Lane, The Penguin Press, London, :967.
21 Chein et al., Narcotics, Delinquency and Social Policy, Tavistock, London, 1964, p. 226.
22 Ibid., p. 209.
23 R. D. Laing, The Politics of Experience, Penguin, London, 1967, p. 65.
24 D. Chapman, Sociology and the Stereotype of the Criminal, Tavistock, London, 1968, p. 23.
25 'D. Ingleby, 'Ideology and the Human Sciences', Human Context, no. xx, June 1970.
26 R. D. Laing, The Politics of Experience, Penguin, London, 1967, pp. 18-19.
27 G. Knight, FRCS (Consultant in Neuro-Surgery at Brook Hospital, London), 'The Approach of the Neurosurgeon to the Treatment of Drug Addiction', St Anne's Soho Drugs Group, London, 1969.