From mycelium to humans: the importance of networks in psychedelic therapies

Cells rarely exist alone. As a consequence, they have evolved special mechanisms for identifying and communicating with other cells around them. Fungi cells have evolved a particularly impressive network of communication, known as the ‘Wood Wide Web’ (Box 1). Without this network, life would not exist.

Humans (also) rarely exist alone. We are social animals who crave contact with others for support, wellbeing and entertainment. The way we interact with other people has a profound impact on our psychological wellbeing, whether those interactions are obvious or not.

When it comes to psychedelics, these ideas are especially important.

Box 1. The Wood Wide Web

A special type of cell-to-cell communication is extremely important for the life of ‘filamentous fungi’ - named so because they are composed of a web of filaments called hyphae. Their cells are long and thread-like and connected end-to-end. Mass branching of these hyphae is known as mycelium. There may be as many as five million species of fungi worldwide (many more than there are plants) and the vast majority of these little-understood organisms are of this ‘filamentous’ type.

Despite their humble appearance, filamentous fungi are critical to the function of natural ecosystems. Together with bacteria, they are the main agents responsible for decomposing dead organic matter. They also play a profoundly important role in plant nutrient uptake: every metre of plant root in the soil is associated with roughly one kilometre of symbiotic fungal hyphae, known as ‘mycorrhiza’ (itself a growing-together of the Greek words for fungus (mykós) and root (riza)), which take up nutrients and pass them to the plant.

Mycorrhizal networks allow fungi to connect trees (and other plants) together: a magnificently complex and collaborative structure that has become known as the ‘Wood Wide Web’. The fungi siphon off food from the trees, taking some of the carbon-rich sugar that they produce during photosynthesis. The plants, in turn, obtain nutrients such as phosphorus and nitrogen that the fungi have acquired from the soil, by means of enzymes that the trees do not possess.

The implications of the Wood Wide Web go far beyond this simple exchange of goods between plant and fungi. The network also allows plants to distribute resources between one another. For example, a dying tree might deprive itself of resources in order to benefit the wider community. Similarly, a youthful seedling in a deeply shaded understory might be sustained with additional resources donated by its stronger neighbours.

Even more extraordinarily, the Wood Wide Web also allows plants to send one another warnings. A plant under pest attack can indicate to a nearby plant that it should raise its defensive response before the pests reach it. It’s well known that plants communicate above ground in comparable ways, with airborne hormones. But when such warnings are sent by means of the myco-net, they are far more precise in terms of source and recipient.

When I returned home from my first psychedelic retreat, I was pretty shocked by the changes I noticed in myself. It felt like I had unlocked a fragment of my soul that had been trapped up since childhood.

I learned the beauty of vulnerability, openness and compassion. I learned to connect, express and engage with my emotions. I learned how to feel the things I was not willing to feel and (perhaps most importantly) I learned what it meant to be honest with myself. All of these mindsets felt very new.

It was obvious that the other people at the retreat had a massive part to play in my ‘transformation’. Being able to share my emotions and communicate my thoughts with a group of complete strangers, whilst cultivating a genuine connection to every single one of them, was undeniably therapeutic. Although I had only known these people for a week, it felt like I had known them for a lifetime.

As I have continued to visit psychedelic ceremonies in various countries, this key idea has become more and more apparent: the ‘medicine’ is not just the psychedelics you take; it’s also about the connections you make.

Psychedelic research

Historically, plant medicines (like psilocybin mushrooms and ayahuasca) have been used in group settings. They have been used by non-Western cultures as sacramental tools for thousands of years – In fact, American researchers first learned about the psychoactive properties of the Psilocybe mexicana mushroom through the Mazatec communal ritual of the velada (see Anna Lutkajtis’s paper ‘Lost Saint: Desacralization, Spiritual Abuse and Magic Mushrooms’ to learn more).

And yet, this hugely important ‘communal’ factor seems to be lacking from most modern trials of psychedelic therapies, which have almost exclusively employed an individual-based therapy approach. The focus on individual therapy, delivered in highly engineered laboratory settings might partly explain why “contemporary psychedelic research has remained largely silent in relation to what might be one of the most prevalent factors impacting psychedelic effects in natura: the social dimension of psychedelic use” (Kettner et al., 2021).

The famous ‘first wave’ of psychedelic research, namely Pahnke’s 1963 “Good Friday Experiment” and Leary’s 1965 “Concord Prison Experiment”, were (undeniably) methodologically questionable, but they did (at least) involve the administration of psilocybin in group settings. Despite this precedent, a group therapy approach has yet to be used in any published twenty-first-century psychedelic clinical trial.

The decision to exclude the social dimension from modern scientific investigation has been largely motivated by pragmatic and safety reasons, but as psychedelics become more mainstream, we need to look closer at how the presence of other people can impact the psychedelic experience.

Collective effervescence and communitas

Whether consumed at a religious ceremony or at an underground rave, it’s clear that psychedelics can promote a generalized sense of ‘connectedness’. People feel more connected to nature, the universe, themselves and others. But what is it about these experiences that make people feel more connected?

Collective events – including festivals, protest demonstrations and sports activities – often make groups feel as though they are one; an important function lies in their ability to induce emotional synchrony. When the emotions of a group seem to ebb and flow in harmony, the group itself adopts its own ‘collective identity’.

Durkheim (1900s) originally used the term ‘collective effervescence’ to describe this kind of emotional synchronisation, and claimed it was something that could help blur the self-other boundary. Collective effervescence can enhance self-esteem, increase positive prosocial beliefs and generally lead to more compassion and better wellbeing (Pizarro et al., 2020; Wlodarczyk et al., 2020). 

‘Communitas’ is another term we tend to hear when discussing these kinds of shared group experiences (Turner, 1969). Often occurring in situations such as rites of passage, communitas describes the intense feeling of togetherness that can temporarily transcend social structures. It is experienced when all members of a community are perceived as equal.

Hannes Kettner and his colleagues at Imperial recently published a paper looking at the role of communitas in psychedelic ceremonies. By analysing data collected from over 800 participants, they showed that psychedelic ceremonies promote this sense of togetherness, connectedness and equality, and these factors are actually independent predictors for improvements in long-term mental health. Clearly, there is something special about the presence of the group that affects how people feel both during and after psychedelic ceremonies.

Psychedelic group therapy

As we start to see psychedelics flirt with the idea of entering the western medical model, we need to question how exactly they should be incorporated. Moreover, we need to ask whether they can be incorporated at all. Western psychiatry and clinical psychology are largely dominated by the individual-level approach, which of course is effective for some. But the structures by which psychedelic substances have been supported (for millennia) do not exactly resemble the clinical structures we have in place at the moment.

So-called ‘set’ (i.e. mindset during the psychedelic experience) and ‘setting’ (i.e. the environment in which you take psychedelics) are well-known terms - Timothy Leary popularised them back in the 1960s (see Ido Hartogsohn’s 2017 paper ‘Constructing drug effects: A history of set and setting’ for a more detailed breakdown). But what seems to be lacking is a focus on shared set and setting experiences, particularly in relation to the potential value of a group therapy model. It just seems like we are dodging a potentially hugely beneficial - not to mention cost-effective - aspect of psychedelic therapies.

The group could be important not only during the psychedelic experience but could also provide fundamental support both before and after the treatment sessions. Preparation and integration are crucially important for both reducing the risk of challenging experiences as well as making sense of a trip. The group might therefore offer a unique form of support, beyond that of (for example) an individual therapist, that will allow participants to re-enter their worlds with the knowledge that they have a network of people whom they can trust and be trusted by. For some, it can be incredibly hard to integrate back into normal life following these potentially life-changing experiences, so the ability to share your journey and integration practises with people who ‘get it’ is something that should be acknowledged, facilitated and nurtured.

Back to the shroom

With social connectedness being one of the most important predictors of both mental and physical health, and social isolation and loneliness contributing to widespread global mortality, ‘experiencing with others’ may be fundamental when it comes to optimising psychedelic therapies.

We can (always(?)) look back to the mushrooms for guidance! Mycologists are well aware of the importance of connectivity: without mycorrhizal networks, life would not exist. As research into psychedelic therapy continues to flourish, these mycorrhizal findings have implications far beyond that of the fungal kingdom.

Healers working with sacred plant medicines are well aware of how the group impacts the entire ceremony experience. The connectivity felt between the participants and the leaders is something that cannot be denied.

“The group aspect of the experience creates a sensible energy that only seemed to further deepen the experience. The group is like a supportive family that becomes an anchor in the midst of what can feel like an untethered experience. The sharing of our journeys after the fact also aids in the reflection and integration aspect.” – Sarah (Buena Vida Retreat, Mexico)

“The beauty of an open group setting where thoughts and feelings are shared is realising that most people are dealing with similar problems. Life experiences are interconnected.” – Luke (Earth Awareness Retreat, Netherlands).

Although we’re starting to see evidence supporting the importance of the shared experience within the scientific community, the therapeutic potential of connectivity should be explored in more depth (e.g., physiological/neuroscientific measures of synchronisation). Likewise, we should start to explore how we can best implement certain aspects of ceremonial use of plant medicines into the western medical model.

Our world is woven in relationships and when it comes to psychedelic research, we can no longer focus on single entities alone. It’s time to look beyond the drugs and take into consideration the context in which they are taken.