Growing Up

The key to nonaddiction is maturity. Winick’s discovery that heroin addiction is often an artificial extension of adolescence, an evasion of adult responsibility, offers us a sound insight about addiction of all kinds. 

Stanton Peele. Love and Addiction (p. 243). Broadrow Publications.

Viewing addiction as merely a function of molecular chemistry on the human nervous system is extremely limiting. This perspective exists at the physical/structural level and ignores the psychological and spiritual perspectives. In the previous chapter we explored the physiological/functional divide between mid and forebrains and the role of language as a tool for integrating these attributes into a holistic view of the self. This chapter builds on this concept and introduces a holarchic model which describes the eight levels of human central nervous system development. Rather than dividing the brain into different functional units which perform discrete tasks this approach explores the changes that transpire from neural growth, cell migration, myelination, synapse formation and learning. These occur progressively throughout the developing brain from the day we are born until the day we die.  

Research has shown that the development of the human consciousness unfolds through several phases extending from the sensory-motor states of infant-hood to a condition of maturity that includes and enfolds all previous phases. The mature individual exhibits features from each of these developmental phases and, in fact, cannot exist in isolation from the synthesis of all preceding stages. The simplicity afforded by the limbic/pre-frontal dichotomy in its role in regulating behaviour is part of this, but in the context of addiction we need to move beyond this and consider the phases of developmental psychology. The limbic brain contributes attributes such as pleasure-seeking behaviour, aggression and fear to the human condition, but this is its function in all humans. My goal in this book is to identify why this process goes off the rails for some of us and not others.  

Describing these phases of development is simplified using Arthur Koestler’s concept of the holon. A holon, simply put, is something that is both a whole and a part. Clear examples of this idea can be found in the field of molecular physics. An atom is composed of a nucleus and an electron cloud. The nucleus is formed from a balanced distribution of neutrons and protons. The nucleus is a discrete entity but it is built using several sub-components. Each of these, in turn, are formed from quarks. The quark, proton, neutron, nucleus and electron clouds are components that constitute an atom. The atom is a thing which includes and enfolds all of these underlying components. If the nucleus ceased to exist so would the atom. If the proton ceased to exist so would the nucleus and the atom. If the quark should disappear so would proton, neutron, electron and atom. Physiologically speaking we could extend this holarchy upward through the molecule, cell and member to form an entire human body. The body could not exist without the concept of a member. It’s true that some members can be removed without affecting the body’s existence, but if the concept of the member ceased to exist the body would disappear.  

This holarchy concept can be applied to any ordered system. At each level we find a measure of strength, utility or influence on the resulting whole that increases as the levels progress. Take the rope for example: 

The rope is a holon with four levels. At the most basic level is the fibre. These are grouped together into treads with a diameter of approximately two millimetres. Threads are twisted around each other to form strands, with a diameter of roughly ten millimetres, and strands combine to form the rope. From the strength/influence perspective the fibre has very little intrinsic value. You might be able to lift a few grams of material with it before it brakes. The thread contains many fibres and inherits the combined strength of each one allowing you to lift several hundred grams. The rope, however, might support and object weighing a tonne. The fibre has very little contribution to make to the task of lifting weight, but it has enormous extrinsic value. If the concept of the fibre ceased to exist so would the rope. This is an integral view of the rope concept – each level in its anatomy includes and transcends the previous levels. So it is with the levels of conscious existence – the strength of the individual as a conscious entity depends on the extent to which the previous levels have been integrated into the whole. 

In the previous chapter we considered the limitations of denying what might be considered the more base attributes of consciousness. We also identified the strength that comes from naming these attributes and including them as foundation principles for the development of a healthy psyche. In contrast to this, in his book “A Brief History of Everything” Ken Wilbur describes an eight-level ladder of consciousness development that starts with the sensory-physical infant dimension and progresses to the level of spiritual transcendence. While this is based on the same concept of shadow integration presented in the previous chapter it embodies a perspective with a much higher resolution. Using Wilbur’s model we are no longer limited to a dark/light (monochrome) view of consciousness, but one that exhibits various hues.  

In the early part of the 20th century two great minds featured prominently in this discussion – Sigmund Freud and his protégé Karl Jung. These individuals believed that the key to understanding the pathologies of the present lay in the experiences of the past. Some (most notably Czech Psychologist Stanislav Grof) drew on Christian tradition in the construction of their hypotheses. In Matthew 18:2-4 Jesus spoke these words: 

2 He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. 3 And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 

While I take this as an exhortation to acknowledge our complete child-like dependence on God and the humility and surrender that such a perspective affords, others see it as an indicator that true spirituality and healthy psychological functioning can only be attained by returning to the depths of our nascent existence. This space includes three components – the perinatal, the personal and the transpersonal, the transpersonal (which correlates roughly with Jung’s concept of the collective unconscious) being the deepest. This depth psychology approach underpins the work of Freud, Jung and Grof. Grof’s model described in “Realms of the Human Unconscious” focuses largely on the perinatal where he believes that memories from before and after birth, and especially the birth experience itself, hold the key to healthy spiritual development. From this perspective spirituality takes root before birth and progresses through the personal before making a U-turn back to the transpersonal. While returning to the vertex of the U corresponding to the transpersonal (which inhabits the same psychological space as the perinatal) could be construed as indicating a complete regression, Grof represents the U as a spiral, the transpersonal vertex being higher than the perinatal, indicating a more mature perspective. From this higher vantage point the attributes of consciousness that were implicit shortly before and after birth can be reassessed through the lens of life experience. 

While largely adhering to the views of Jung, Wilbur identifies in these ideas what he labels the pre-trans fallacy. To Wilbur spiritual development is progressive rather than regressive. We move ever upward from the perinatal to the transpersonal. Wilbur represents this process as a ladder with eight rungs, but admits it could also be portrayed as the progressive layers of an onion, or the segments of a Russian doll where each layer envelops and includes the previous ones. This height psychology approach is gaining increased acceptance in the scientific community.  

One integral technology that draws on, and extends, all of these ideas is Spiral Dynamic Theory (SDT). Rather than viewing neural development as a simple U-shaped spiral that begins and ends at the same conceptual space SDT combines Wilbur’s idea of the ladder with the spiral. In SDT terms we are constantly advancing in our development and understanding of ourselves, the social and cultural environment in which we exist and how the self relates to these environments. Our conscious development consists of a series of curves in the spiral, first progressing to new territory and then curving back to view our old stomping grounds from a higher perspective. The upward curve into new territory provides the developmental fodder our minds crave. We chew on it and ingest it but we cannot digest it without curving back and integrating it into the self through a process of re-assessment. This is the process of maturation or growing up. 

Don Beck developed the ideas underlying SDT, expanding on the work of Clare Graves, during the last quarter of the 20th century. He introduced the colour coding system shown in figure ? to better facilitate communication, allowing the complex collections of attributes associated with each phase to be condensed, labelled and discussed as a single colour. Far from being merely theoretical in nature, SDT found its first major practical application in averting the civil war brewing in South Africa in the early 1990’s. During this period Beck traveled to South Africa from Texas 64 times, meeting with power brokers from all sides. He bore the message that to avert conflict within any society, or between societies, there needs to be an acceptance (integration) of all previous levels in the development of consciousness. This view corresponds with the Integrator-Systemic or yellow level, which embraces the role that all preceding levels play in constructing the bio-psycho-social edifice. As with the atom’s reliance on the Quark and sub-atomic particle for its existence so the yellow cannot exist without an integration of all preceding colours. Beck’s work in South Africa brought an end to Apartheid in 1994.  

The role of this integrative process is as important to the individual as it is to the nation-state, and the conflict that exists between the competing value systems within the individual often predisposes them to addiction. On the societal level Beck addressed this in his doctoral dissertation which explored the conditions leading up to the American Civil War. During that period American society as a whole was addicted to the way of life afforded by a vassal class. As the North had abandoned this narcissistic view, which put the needs of the self before the needs of others, so conflict arose with the south. The result is a subject for the history books, but the addict experiences a similar type of warfare every day. It might be hard to see how a single person can play the role of both parties in such a conflict but, according to Wilbur, traumatic events at any step in our development can carve off parts of our consciousness. These parts continue to exist at the level of development where the trauma occurred and become little “subjects” – separate streams of consciousness that share our own instinct for self-preservation. These subjects don’t want to die, but it’s hard for us to move ahead with our lives while they still maintain their separateness.  

The existence of these subjects is an energy drain. If we view the amount of developmental energy we are allotted at birth as a collection of 100 units it’s possible that something may occur at the red level which prevents its full integration. This will carve off a conscious subject that potentially consumes 10 units of developmental energy on a continual basis until it is integrated back into the self. If such a situation persists, the individual retains only 90 units with which to power the remainder of the climb. The subject which continues to drain energy is, as it were, connected to the self by a bungee cord. The forward motion of the self is restrained by this elastic effect so that progression to each successive level in the spiral is retarded.  

Add to this the fact that movement from one level to the succeeding level is analogous to a state change in physical matter and another problem becomes evident. Large amounts of heat energy are required to change water from a liquid to a gas (steam). Likewise, a subset of our units of developmental energy are consumed when progressing between successive levels of the spiral. If 10 of those units are tied up by a subject at the red level only 90 units of energy remain to power the remainder of the climb. This energy can only be released if the red-level subject is integrated back into the self at which time it becomes available, once again, to power upward motion. 

The Shadow Side

In cognitive terms humans tend to compartmentalize. We identify ideas and perspectives and classify them as compatible or incompatible with our self-concept and system of values. Often the distinction is made on moral grounds. We tag the ideas of God, family, purity, joy and peace with positive attributes while denying the influence of greed, sensuality, violence and anger in our lives. We are averse to situations where these competing influences come into contact. We put one set of influences in a box labelled “good” and another in a box flagged “bad”, and hope they never come into contact. The juxtaposition of polar opposites such as peace/violence and purity/sensuality repel us, and when they do interact, we experience shame. If we are supposed to embody the attributes of the “good” box and shun those of the “bad” how can we be comfortable embracing the reality of both expressed in our lives? An honest assessment of the situation would convince us that we do, in fact, embody both sets of influences, but for the sake of our own self-perception, and to project an image of respectability to others, we hide the contents of our bad box in the furthest recesses of our mind where they wreak havoc. These influences are manifestations of what psychologist Karl Jung termed “The Shadow” – the embodiment of our dark side. 

We could describe this shadow in terms of brain chemistry, brain morphology or higher brain function but ultimately these three form a holarchy which would collapse in the absence of any one component. A good starting point for discussion, however, is the contrast between the propensities of the Limbic System and Prefrontal Cortex. 

Season 1 episode 5 of Star Trek the Original Series (The Enemy Within) illustrates this distinction quite well. Kirk is beamed up from the surface of a planet and arrives on the Enterprise as two different individuals. Their arrival is offset by a few seconds, so nobody is in the transporter room when Kirk #2 arrives and he is able to blend into the normal buzz of ships operations unnoticed. This situation doesn’t last long, however, as Kirk #2 tries to sexually assault a female crew member and receives some nasty scratches on his face. Meanwhile Spock has noticed that Kirk #1 is acting strangely. He seems listless, unmotivated and is unable to remember basic operating protocols. Eventually the dichotomy between the two Kirks becomes common knowledge among the ship’s crew and, after some analysis, Dr. McCoy identifies the following attributes of the two: 

Kirk #1 

  • Love 
  • Compassion 
  • Intelligence 
  • Self-control 

Kirk #2 

  • Aggression 
  • Decisiveness 
  • Passion 
  • Guile 

What we see in these characteristics are the basic attributes of the Pre-Frontal Cortex and Limbic System respectively. Kirk #1 was completely incapable of performing his leadership role as Captain while Kirk #2 roamed the ship’s halls like a wild animal assaulting security details and officers alike, including Kirk #1. The solution, proposed by Spock and Scotty, was to reverse the polarity of the transporter and put both Kirks back through in the hope that the two personalities would be merged back into one individual. This (spoiler alert) strategy turns out to be successful, and an integrated version of the Captain walks off the transporter platform, with confidence and grace, to resume his directorial duties. 

On the surface the moral of the story is that the more bestial aspects of our nature are as necessary to our functioning as are the more human ones, and that the only way a person can function is by integrating both aspects into their being. Jung adds to this the following maxim – we habitually deny the influence, possibly even the existence of this shadow in ourselves. Having been raised by parents who played the role of our PFC until ours was fully formed and integrated into our being (a process of emotional maturation) we learned to have a very poor view of those behaviours, beliefs and attitudes that were so frequently censured in our youth. One focus of this parental nurturing process is the frequent admonition to care for the feelings of others. This exhortation towards empathy lays the foundation for many of the skills necessary to function as members of a social group, be it a family, collegial troop, religious community, gardening club or society as a whole, and yet we all fail repeatedly. We cheat, violate social mores, lie, let our loved ones down and hate ourselves for it. 

This sense of self-loathing causes us to resist the more beggarly qualities we see in ourselves, but rather than addressing their manifest reality we resist their expression in others.  This external-focused aversion creates a destructive cycle of tension that both exacerbates our personal situation and reduces our ability to redress it. Jung encapsulates this truth in the statement: 

 “what you resist not only persists, but grows in size.” 

Herein lies a key point – the use of the word “resist” differs from its use in James 4:7 where James states: 

“Resist the devil and he will flee from you” 

Jung is not saying that the only way to keep our Chimp in check is to stop resisting it. The resistance to which he refers could better be described as denial. Rather than accepting the truth that we share the propensities and capabilities of the rapist, murderer and thief, we deny (resist) this reality. Because we hide these tendencies behind a mask which turns both inward and outward, in an attempt to disguise our true nature from ourselves and others, we become blind to it. But this does not prevent us from seeing our shortcomings in others. We become judgmental and condemn the people in our lives while being blind to those same principles at work in us. As Jung put it: 

…it is quite within the bounds of possibility for a man to recognize the relative evil of his nature, but it is a rare and shattering experience for him to gaze into the face of absolute evil. 

This quality of self-observation (shadow perception) rarely observed in human kind, is a pre-requisite to the acceptance of reality. Rather than familiarizing ourselves with the contours and features of the face described by Jung (our true moral appearance) our tendency is to put it out of our minds, and do as described in James 1: 

22 Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. 23 Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror 24 and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. 

As bizarre as it sounds, this level of self-deception is pretty much the default mode of human operation. We all tend to see ourselves as decent up-standing citizens and that it is those around us that need rehabilitation. Jesus was well aware of this axiom and described it in Matthew 7: 

3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. 

We can’t see the plank in our own eye because we deny (resist) its existence. Perhaps this is the quintessential application of the word hypocrite (play actor). We are playing out the role of the righteous one in our own minds when in reality our flaws are at least equal to those of the people we disdain. That plank in our eye used to be a speck, but our denial of its existence allows it to grow without restraint. Ironically, we can’t resist what we resist to acknowledge. 

A major component of Christ’s ministry was the delivery of this message to the people, and he used the Jewish leaders of the time as his prime antitypes. Their challenge in recognizing their own plank was twofold, firstly they were entrusted with interpreting a law which defined the parameters of righteous living. This enabled them to mold each precept to their own advantage and insure that their Chimp remained satisfied while at the same time, in their own minds, they were abiding by the rules. Secondly, they believed it was possible to perfectly observe their interpretation of this law and that their job was to be seen by their followers as doing just that. It’s hardly surprising Christ describes them as hypocrites and blind leaders of the blind. The ability to deny their own shadow was practically part of their job description. Nowhere is this presented more clearly than in Christ’s parable recounted in Luke 18: 

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ 13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ 14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” 

Denial is the wool the Chimp pulls over the eyes of the human. It allows the Chimp to operate in stealth mode. But where in the Bible do we find a description of this Limbic/PFC dichotomy. In his letter to the Romans, chapter 7, the Apostle Paul describes the two warring minds as the mind of the flesh and the mind of the spirit: 

5 Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. 6 The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace. 7 The mind governed by the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so. 8 Those who are in the realm of the flesh cannot please God. 9 You, however, are not in the realm of the flesh but are in the realm of the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God lives in you.   

This passage provides some context for this book’s title – The Spirituality of Addiction. It frames the struggle between the human and chimp, as a spiritual conflict. All of our addictive behaviours are rooted in the mind of the flesh, a mind that operates independently of the desire for self-improvement and self-preservation. The mind of the flesh is death in both the temporal and the eternal sense. Even in an illegal drug market, such as that in Western North America – which has been contaminated with lethal levels of Fentanyl – addicts continue to use, knowing that their next fix could be fatal. Feeding the appetites of the limbic loop has become, for them, more important than life itself. The strength of a Christ-centered approach to recovery, as promoted by in the 12 Step Program of Alcoholics Anonymous, is that it brings the spiritual nature of the conflict into full view, thus promoting life and peace.