The Politics of Experience

One of the problems with the modern scientific study of consciousness is that scientists tend to consider only the objective - sets of specific measurements and observations that can be precisely recorded, and carefully controlled experiments that can be repeated and validated by others.  The subjective, how the scientist feels about the topic, has no place in scientific methodology.  That isn't a criticism of the scientific method - I'm very, very pro-science - but consciousness is precisely that subjective, internal experience of the self.  Objective study of consciousness - EKG and CAT scans of the brain, observing subjects in psychological experiments, and so on - tends to reduce the study of consciousness to mere behaviorism.  It misses the mark in the same way that examination of an elephant's tracks misses the elephant itself.

When is was in high school, I read a book called The Politics of Experience and The Bird of Paradise by  the Scottish psychiatrist R. D. Laing.  I didn't read it as part of a class assignment; I read it because reading books was something people still did back in the early 1970s.  The book had a profound effect on my thinking that's lasted to this day.  Laing wrote extensively on mental illness, but not from the point of view of doctors observing sets of symptoms.  Laing was more interested in the actual experience of psychosis as described by the patient.  He took the expressed feelings of the individual patient or client as valid descriptions of their personal experience, rather than simply as symptoms of mental illness. 

His views on the causes and treatment of psychopathological phenomena ran counter to the chemical and electroshock methods that had become psychiatric orthodoxy. Laing refused to treat patients with drugs or electric shock unless they requested them. His best-known practical experiment was to establish Kingsley Hall, a London hostel for schizophrenics, where he pioneered therapeutic use of mescaline and LSD.  “His policy was to have people staying there to go through madness as a self-healing process,” his son said. Laing tended to view the mad as explorers of their own inner world.

The Politics of Experience and The Bird of Paradise consists of two parts - the Politics part, a collection of previously published articles discussing his views (the objective approach), and the Paradise part, a free-flowing stream-of-consciousness quasi-autobiography in prose and poetic form (a subjective approach).  The book examines the nature of human experience from a phenomenological point of view, as well as the possibilities for psychotherapy in an existentially distorted world. Laing challenged the idea of normality in modern society, and argued that it is not merely people who are mad, but the world as well. He presented psychosis as "a psychedelic voyage of discovery in which the boundaries of perception were widened, and consciousness expanded."  In later life, Laing became interested in Zen Buddhism and published transcripts of conversations between himself and his children.

R.D. Laing died while playing tennis with his son in St. Tropez on this date, August 23, in 1989.  Impermanence is swift.

Speaking of impermanence, on average, about 1,000 people are dying in the U.S. each day from the covids, about 350 of those in the states of Texas and Florida alone.    While it appeared for a while there that we were turning a corner and beating back the virus with vaccines, a combination of vaccine hesitancy and the Delta variant has caused the number of new cases each day to reach levels we haven't seen since January 2021, before the vaccines were widely available.  As a result, after a lovely but brief period where it seemed like life could return back to normal, at least for the vaccinated, we're back to mask wearing and social distancing again, and going to hear live music at small, sweaty venues no longer seems like a wise lifestyle choice.

Most venues here in Atlanta are now requiring proof of vaccination or a recent negative covids test, which helps. But when you're in one of the most highly infected states in the country, going to a crowded show in a tiny venue at this time seems like a luxury you have to take a pass on.  

Yesterday, the popular band Nine Inch Nails, which can sell out large arenas, announced they were suspending their current tour due to the covids.  Today, the indie singer-songwriter Phoebe Bridgers said the show will go on, but she's moving all indoor shows to outdoor venues, and will only play at outdoor sites until all of this passes.  That seems like a wise choice, although there aren't many small outdoor venues here in Atlanta (I can't think of one off the top of my head).  There are a couple large outdoor amphitheaters, but typically only top pop acts and big national touring bands can sell enough tickets to afford them.  

I passed on going to see the band Bully at The Earl last weekend to protect myself from possible covid infections, despite the vaccination and mask mandates, but I would have gone had the show been on an outdoor stage.  I think there's a real niche market right now for some enterprising promoter to open a small- to medium-sized outdoor venue. The venue could still operate profitably even after the pandemic passes (if the pandemic ever passes).  The only real problem would be all those rainy nights in Georgia Ray Charles kept singing about.