This article presents a video and full transcript of Alexander “Sasha” Shulgin’s compelling speech titled “Why I Do What I Do“. In this talk, Shulgin explores the philosophical and scientific reasons behind his work with psychedelics, providing a unique insight into the mind of the man who pioneered the study of psychoactive compounds. Watch the video and read the cleaned-up transcript for a detailed look at Shulgin’s thoughts on the meaning of life, scientific discovery, and the role of psychedelics in expanding consciousness.

Introduction

In this remarkable talk, chemist and pharmacologist Alexander “Sasha” Shulgin takes us deep into the world of psychedelics, chemistry, and philosophy. Shulgin is widely known for his synthesis of many psychoactive compounds, most notably MDMA, and his reflections on the human mind and consciousness. This lecture, captured in video form, explores not just the technical aspects of psychedelics, but also Shulgin’s personal thoughts on why he does what he does, offering a rare glimpse into the mind of one of the 20th century’s most influential figures in psychopharmacology.

In this video, Shulgin touches on the development of psychedelic compounds, the duality of good and evil, and the role of these substances in expanding human consciousness. His thoughts challenge conventional views on psychopharmacology and delve into the moral and philosophical questions surrounding scientific discovery.

Below, you’ll find the embedded video followed by a full transcript, which has been cleaned up for clarity. We’ve preserved Shulgin’s language and structure, only correcting minor spelling errors for better readability.

Alexander “Sasha” Shulgin – Meaning of Life – ‘Why I Do What I Do’ Speech Video

Alexander “Sasha” Shulgin – Meaning of Life – ‘Why I Do What I Do’ Speech Transcript

I was at a meeting last year when Dr. Hoffman came, and his opening sentence was, “You expected the Shaman, and you’re going to get a chemist.” When I was first asked by Dr. Robert M. Gordon McCutchen to come here tonight and talk about whatever I wanted to do, my first impression, as long as I allowed it, was to decline. After all, I am a student of chemistry and pharmacology, not really a student of philosophy or religion, and I felt I had probably contributed as much as I could last year when I took chalk to blackboard and drew hexagons and tryptamine rings, giving my impression of what on a molecule caused it to do what it does.

But my wife intervened. “Why not tell them just why you do what you do?” That got me lost in an interesting question I had never actually spoken to myself before: “Why do you do what you do?” The flip answer is obvious: one does it because it’s there to be done, the Mount Everest routine—”I climb the mountain because it’s there to be climbed.” But that is not the reason I do the research I do.

Whenever this question would come up in a seminar or during a panel discussion, I placed special emphasis on the word “psychotomimetic,” a term often used by the scientific community when referring to psychedelic drugs. The term “psychedelic” does not find a good audience in psychiatric, chemical, or medical literature, as it carries a meta-message of drug use, drug encouragement, and drug proselytizing. As a result, the word is not often encountered. Its origin comes from “psy,” meaning psychosis, and “mimetic,” meaning imitation of. Early in the work in this area, these materials were given this name because they were cast in the role of causing syndromes or symptoms reflecting mental illness.

By studying the effects of these materials in normal subjects, one might glean insight into the mechanisms or descriptions of these syndromes when seen in people who are spontaneously ill. The search for new psychotomimetics—materials that would be more exact in their definition of psychosis—is logical. Many hallucinogens, or psychedelics, can be classified into two main types: indoles, such as tryptamines and LSD (an ergot-type indole), or phenethylamines, such as mescaline and amphetamines.

There are two principal neurotransmitters in the brain: serotonin (an indole) and dopamine (a phenethylamine). Neurochemists often classify psychedelics according to whether they are indoles or phenethylamines. It is appealing to think that understanding why indolic psychedelics work here and phenethylamines work there will allow us to understand how neurotransmitters work in the brain and ultimately cure mental illness. However, while this classification is logical and safe, it has not been particularly rewarding. It is a simple and unthreatening explanation easily accepted by academic and administrative communities.

But this still does not explain why I do what I do. My work is indeed dedicated to the development of tools, but for a different purpose. Here I want to move away from chemistry and into my own personal thoughts. I’d like to lay a little background to establish a framework for these tools, partly to define them and partly to emphasize the urgency I feel is associated with them.

First, I am a firm believer in the reality of balance in all aspects of the human theater. When there is a move one way, there is almost always a move the other way, maintaining a delicate balance. If there is a dichotomy between good and evil, all good seems to contain its unexpressed evil, and all evil, unexpressed good. Within the human mind, there coexist Eros, the life-loving, self-perpetuating force, and Thanatos, the self-destructive death wish. Both are present in each of us, but they are usually separated by a difficult-to-penetrate wall of the unconscious.

One definition of the tools I seek is that they may allow the development of a vocabulary—a vocabulary that might allow each person to communicate more consciously and clearly with the interior of their mind and psyche. This may be called a “vocabulary of awareness.” A person who becomes increasingly aware of the two opposing forces within their psyche may begin to make knowledgeable choices. The learning process that follows such choices is the path to wisdom.

Just as there is a balance within the mind that needs to be established, there are records of similar balances in society. For centuries, humanity has existed in a precarious balance. During the early centuries of the current millennium, some of the most inhumane wars were fought in the name of religion, and the horrors of the Inquisition showed lethal intolerance of heresy. Yet during these dark times, alchemy was established—not to change base metals into noble ones, but to acquire knowledge through the study of matter. Alchemy extended up to the Age of Enlightenment, where it evolved into modern science. The alchemists sought transmutation, not just of metals, but of understanding—achieving a unity between the physical and the spiritual world. It was the process itself, the doing and redoing, that was the reward.

In the last hundred years, science has seen a subtle shift in focus from the process to the results. It is no longer the act of achieving but the achievement itself that matters. The result brings acknowledgment, recognition, wealth, influence, and power. However, this shift has also resulted in a dichotomy: the same scientific discoveries can be used for good or evil.

In 1895, Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen discovered X-rays, and the following year, Henri Becquerel discovered radioactivity. These discoveries revolutionized medicine, but they also laid the groundwork for nuclear weapons. Similarly, in 1897, Arthur Heffter isolated mescaline from the peyote cactus, ushering in the study of psychoactive substances. While radioactivity and mescaline developed without clear polarity for a time, World War II changed that.

In 1942, Enrico Fermi achieved nuclear fission, marking the beginning of the nuclear age. A year later, in 1943, Albert Hoffman synthesized LSD, leading to a different kind of discovery. These developments followed separate paths, but by the 1970s, nuclear science had taken on a death-loving aspect, while psychedelics began to be seen as tools for enlightenment and transcendence.

This balance between destruction and transcendence is where I believe the Psychedelic drugs come into play. These drugs, once seen as merely tools for studying psychosis, have become tools for understanding and communicating with the deeper parts of the human psyche. In a world where the knowledge of how to destroy humanity is increasingly accessible, there must also be a development on the other side of the human psyche, offering ways to live with that knowledge. Psychedelics provide a vocabulary that can bridge the gap between the destructive and life-loving aspects of the human mind.

The tools of communication we now have, like the nearly 200 known psychedelic drugs, may help us disarm our destructive compulsions.