In the past few months, it's become nearly impossible to buy Ketaset in New York
City's underground drug market. Made by Fort Dodge, an Iowa-based
pharmaceutical firm, Ketaset is a brand of ketamine, a compound that blocks
certain neuroreceptors, causing hallucinations in high doses and, in lower doses,
a fuzzy dissociation - like the warmth of a couple of Jim Beams. Legally, it's used
as an anesthetic. Illegally, one snorts ketamine because the fuzziness lasts half an
hour and doesn't produce bourbon's four-Advil hangover.
Ketaset's scarcity dates back to August 1999, when the U.S. Drug Enforcement
Administration, acting on preliminary evidence that ketamine may lead to
dependence, subjected its legal purveyors to strict security rules. But K, as users
call it, had already won so many devotees that traffickers were smuggling
off-label brands from Mexico. Today Manhattan dealers sell a gram of K for $80,
up 100% from 1998.
The recent history of K limns a well-established law of recreational drug use: once
users find a substance they like, they will snort or shoot or drop whatever version
is available, whatever the cost. Which is why you must look to the market to
understand the future of drugs used for anything other than doctor-approved
healing. That market can be divided into three groups: the partyers, who just
want to have fun (and who sometimes become addicts); the shrinks and shamans,
who believe drugs can expand your consciousness; and the scientists, who suspect
that illegal drugs - or their chemical cousins - may have marketable legal uses.
These groups are distinct but tightly linked: scientific research leads to new
drugs, which shamans discover and use in their quests, which often turn out to be
as much fun as spiritual. The use of drugs in party settings eventually leads to
government crackdowns.
But as a rule, the partyers don't pursue the new drugs; they tend to find a potion
and stick with it, sometimes until it kills them. Today's popular party drugs are
derived from ancient medicinal herbs: marijuana from hemp, cocaine from coca
leaf, prescription painkillers from poppies. It's the shamans who aggressively seek
out new substances. Recent additions to the U.S. market include ayahuasco, a
plant long used in religious ceremonies in Brazil for its mind-manipulating
qualities, and Salvia divinorum, a soft-leaved plant native to Mexico that is
chewed or smoked for hallucinogenic effects.
New compounds do occasionally come from underground drug labs or, like MDMA
(ecstasy), are rediscovered after years of being ignored in scientific literature. In
this world, no one is held in greater esteem than Alexander Shulgin.
Shulgin is a biochemist who once studied psychedelics for Dow Chemical. Now 75,
Shulgin has synthesized hundreds of compounds in the smelly lab in the woods
behind his California home. He and his wife Ann, a therapist, have published two
books that are the bibles of underground drug research: PIHKAL
(Phenethylamines I Have Known and Loved) and TIHKAL (Tryptamines I Have
Known and Loved). Many of the drugs that have emerged from underground labs
can be traced to well-thumbed copies of the Shulgins' books.
It was they who helped popularize MDMA - a signal event in the history of
recreational drugs. Ecstasy is easily the biggest advance since LSD. It changed
not only the party world but the shaman world, where it was used by
psychologists who believed it had therapeutic value. Since MDMA was banned in
1986, scientists have looked for compounds that have the same effects without
damaging neurotransmitters, as MDMA can. They haven't had much success.
So today's nonmedical drug research tends to focus on new uses for old substances.
That effort is led by Richard Doblin, who runs the Multidisciplinary Association
for Psychedelic Studies out of his Belmont, Mass., home. Founded the year MDMA
was outlawed, the association uses its $530,000 yearly budget to assist scientists
who, with government permission, study the risks and benefits of a wide variety
of nonmedical uses for psychedelic drugs and marijuana. Such research is highly
political, however, and it can take years for a research protocol to be approved.
The new drugs that appear on the market usually do so after underground
chemists read scientific papers and decide to cook something up. Scientists
studying how cocaine works in the brain, for example, have developed a version
100 times more powerful. The recipe is available in academic journals, waiting to
be exploited.
But the chemicals needed to synthesize such drugs are tracked by authorities, a
change from the Shulgins' day. And even if the ingredients were widely
available, the scientific expertise is not. According to David Nichols, a student of
Shulgin's who is now a professor of chemistry at Purdue, "The underground
chemist is typically not going to discover a completely new psychoactive
substance. The kinds of things that are easy to make, by and large, have been
made."