Fellow Splice Today contributor Elina Melonic recently retweeted a Fox News report about the dangers of marijuana that I was immediately skeptical of. According to cognitive psychiatrist Dr. Daniel Amen, even moderate recreational use of weed can stunt the brain permanently when taken by anyone under 25—when the human brain reaches full development—and such users have a higher incidence of anxiety, depression, suicide and psychosis. Marijuana permanently ages the brain, according to Amen, author of Change Your Brain, Change Your Life.
And then there's last year’s study on the neurological impacts of long-term THC administration, published in the American Chemical Society’s journal—Pharmacology and Translational Science—that found that the drug “could be the basis for an effective antiaging and pro-cognitive medication.” This result was arrived at by researchers experimenting on older and younger age groups of male mice—four months to 18 months old. Outside the brain, the research indicated that THC appeared to produce a different kind of anti-aging effect on the body. So does marijuana use age the brain or de-age the brain? As often happens in the sciences, it depends on who you ask.
Based on my own experience, I'd say it doesn't age the brain. I’d worked my way up to being a daily pot smoker by age 18, during my freshman year in college, but my brain doesn't feel older than it should be. I grew so fond of the weed that I was once reticent about doing junior year abroad studies because of my worry over not being able to buy it overseas. That's called dependency. After an evening of studying in the library, I saw no reason not to light up every night after returning to my dorm room and listening to music. Cannabis enhanced my sensory experience. Pharaoh Sanders, with some illicit help, could take me to previously unknown places. This nightly ritual was an integral part of my college experience.
In those days, we could smoke in the campus movie theater. We smoked joints throughout the movie. It made the soundtrack more emotionally resonant. The experience was more immersive and vivid. At every party, joints, pipes, and bongs were passed around. Every road trip and concert was accompanied by consumption of marijuana. Back then, it was the seed-and stem “Mexican shake” variety that had to be “cleaned,” unless we could get our hands on the premium stuff—Colombian, Panama Red, Jamaican, Acapulco Gold, Thai sticks, or my favorite, blond Lebanese hash. Whenever the quality stuff was available, I bought it. Occasionally, very powerful hash oil was available, although it meant five minutes of coughing after each hit. As soon as my stash got low, I'd contact my sources about replenishing it. I couldn't risk running out. I never experienced the paranoia that the drug can induce, there were no hangovers, and I never let it interfere with my life or my studies. There was no “waking and baking.”
Five or six of us used to get together in my dorm room after the evening’s studies had concluded. Everyone would bring an album, and we'd pass joints around. It was relaxing and sociable. A couple of guys in the weed and music club went on to get PhDs in science, one became a lawyer, and the rest of us got advanced degrees. The smoking hasn't seemed to age our brains too much, nor did it cause anxiety, depression, psychosis, or suicide. The sample size is small, but nearly everyone on every college campus, except for the bible schools, was smoking pot then, and I see no evidence it caused the mass harm that the dubious Dr. Amen claims.
Dr. Amen’s research and diagnostic methods are far from impeccable, according to scientists, psychiatrists, and various medical organizations. He relies heavily on SPECT imaging scans in his diagnoses of psychiatric disorders and his theorizing about the effects of marijuana use, but many experts, including the American Psychiatric Association, discount the reliability of this technology. Nevertheless, Amen’s clinics market expensive SPECT scan packages directly to consumers, which critics have called exploitative, given the fact that there's no empirical data and scant peer-reviewed studies supporting the technology’s efficacy. Amen, who’s made many appearances in public media and podcasts, has been accused of promoting pseudoscience. His efforts to make neuroscience more accessible (and promote his brand) has aroused suspicion that he oversimplifies and distorts science, turning it into pop psychology.
Wouldn't it be great if all it took to understand psychiatric problems was a SPECT scan? That's a great marketing proposition, but it looks like America's most famous psychiatrist is a peddler of snake oil in the mold of Deepak Chopra. The American Psychiatric Association did a 2018 study on SPECT scans that found they're not useful in diagnosing mental health problems. Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman, former head of the American Psychiatric Association, called Amen’s work “the modern equivalent of pseudo-color phrenology.”
Dr. Amen charges patients in his 10 nationwide brain-scan clinics $4000 (most insurance won't cover it) for a procedure that involves injecting them with radiation. His success is evidence of his marketing prowess, not his science. Amen’s appearances on TV shows like The View and CBS this Morning have given him a massive social media following. Justin Bieber has praised his methods. PBS has hyped Amen relentlessly with programs that resemble infomercials.
There's big bucks in spreading pseudoscience. It even got Mehmet Oz a top governmental healthcare job. People are drawn to Amen because he simplifies things. They're drawn to the ease of getting a quick mental health assessment, and oblivious to the lack of peer reviews and the signs of a hustle.
Fox News promotes Daniel Amen without scrutiny of his methods because it's a conservative cable channel, and cannabis usage doesn't fit into their rigid definition of conservatism like Budweiser does. As for NPR’s motivations, follow the money. The New York Times reported an anonymous PBS executive as saying, “He raises more money for PBS than practically anyone else.” PBS often airs Amen’s self-funded specials/infomercials during pledge drives, and the money pours in. Its naive audience, thinking that if it airs on PBS it must be trustworthy, are the losers.
Anyone wishing to understand the effects of THC on the brain must go beyond the media to understand this issue, or just about any topic in this era of clicks, views, and engagement. Like Donald Trump, there's no way Amen could've reached his elevated status without repeated TV appearances. When pop culture bestows power upon questionable people, substance takes a back seat to visibility and hype.