Only in 2017 could a conservative mag run a thoughtful Burning Man decompression essay—that it’s The American Conservative is no surprise.
Robert Mariani’s lead claim—Burning Man staves off nihilism, if only temporarily—is a biting jab that happy-go-lucky San Franciscans would do well to take. He highlights all the usual pros and cons of the Burn with an older, conservative audience in mind—and in a few cases does it quite tenderly.
But to the point of how effective Burning Man is at staving off nihilism, he misses one huge factor.
While you’d think the high churchies at TAC (I say this affectionately) would be the first to acknowledge the power of sacrament, Mariani completely leaves the Playa’s serotonergic host out of his account. This is like talking about The Beatles without mentioning that their entire post-1964 oeuvre was directly shaped by psychedelic molecules. Which serious people do all the time.
Ritual, community, aesthetics, and alcoholic drink all have the bittersweet effect of staving off nihilism until they leave the bloodstream—moving the needle incrementally, at best. Psychedelics are a different story. Not a panacea, but a reliable, indelible means of getting enchanted. Of allowing meaning itself to get up in your face.
Psychedelics (and their cousins, empathogen/entactogens) are the sacrament that animates much of Burning Man’s post-post-modern, transparently “made-up” ritual and spirituality.
Except that unlike wafers and sweet wine, psychedelics are neurochemically guaranteed to get you somewhere. Where you take it from there is largely up to you.
This is not to say I’ve found the cure for secular, post-postmodern nihilism. But I’m less pessimistic than Mariani.
The work of restoring meaning and duende for this age—in the form of what David Chapman calls “the fluid mode“—starts on the level of the brain’s serotonin system, something everyone has. By some crazy grace, we have the tools to probe it.