Leo Zeff's Contribution to the Use of Psychedelics in Therapy

I believe that recent progress has shown us that psychedelics have a place in therapy when used responsibly and in a professional environment. I did some research on the history of the field and wrote an article about one of the most central figures - Leo Zeff:

Thomas Carlyle once famously said, “History is but the biography of great men”. This holds true for the history of psychedelics as well. It seems that just a handful of purpose-driven people have built the field of psychedelic research, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Everyone interested in the history and culture surrounding those substances has heard the names of Alexander Shulgin, Terrence McKenna, Rick Doblin and Stanislav Grof. Today, however, I want to turn your attention towards a person who, albeit being less known has had a tremendous impact on psychedelic therapy, and stands shoulder-to-shoulder with those giants in the field. His name is Leo Zeff.

The biggest testament to Zeff’s importance for the field of psychedelics comes from a book by Myron Stolaroff, called “The Secret Chief” which contains interviews with the late psychotherapist detailing the methods and substances he used with patients. The book starts with a prologue written by Stan Grof, a tribute by Ann Shulgin and a foreword by Albert Hofmann, the creator of LSD. the closing chapter is written by Alexander Shulgin himself. This astonishing array of names tells us, even more than the words they used, that Leo Zeff was not just another person involved in psychedelic therapy - he was the beating heart, the engine behind a movement which endured the war on drugs and its witch hunts.

Unfortunately, little information is available about the life of this great man. During most of his practice, it was illegal to possess psychedelic substances, let alone to administer them to patients. Therefore, utmost secrecy was required to keep him and his relatives out of prison. Despite this obstacle, Leo Zeff spent the latter half of his life working with patients and training therapists how to use substances like LSD and MDMA in their practice.

Trained as a psychologist, his involvement with psychedelics began in 1961 after he heard reports from several of his patients who had “tripped” on LSD. The stories they told him were spectacular, quickly sparking his interest and leading him to try the substance for himself. One trip was all he needed. After years of feeling stuck professionally, he finally had what he was looking for - a substance that is able to open a door to a person’s psyche, to provide them with the “kick in the ass” that they needed to undergo a transformation. Talk therapy was not getting his patients anywhere, and now, at last, he had an alternative.

Over the next two decades, he administered various psychedelics to a staggering 4,000 patients. On top of that, he also trained therapists on how to use those substances - 150 people, according to his estimates. One of those people was Ann Shulgin, the wife of Sasha Shulgin. In 1977 Zeff had been practicing psychedelic-assisted therapy for 15 years and was getting ready to retire. This plan went down the drain when that same year Alexander Shulgin introduced him to a new substance that he had synthesized - MDMA. Once again, Zeff’s mind was blown after just a single trip - he decided to postpone his retirement in order to spread the word about the new substance.

As I mentioned earlier, the only interviews I could find with Leo Zeff come from Stolaroff’s book. They reveal very little about the therapist’s personal life, but there are still valuable insights - about his first trips on weed and LSD, and about his practice with patients, both in an individual and group setting.

His first trip on LSD was a deeply meaningful and spiritual experience. His own description illustrates that point beautifully: “He [the therapist] laid the Torah across my chest and I immediately went into the lap of God. He and I were One.” He goes on to tell himself “Jacob, if ever again you are frightened you deserve the pain of the fear because you will have forgotten that God is with you and protecting you all the time.” God was not the only one Leo Zeff felt connected to during that first trip - looking at pictures of his father and his brothers he felt that there was no difference between them and himself, they were all one and the same, echoing his previous feeling of feeling One with God. He also talks about rediscovering a deep connection with his mother and finding a way to complete openness about his emotions.

This experience gave Leo Zeff a new perspective, not only on his personal life but on his professional life as well. Having felt stumped for years, he now discovered a way forward for himself and his patients. He was no longer confined to waiting for life to “give them [his patients] a big kick in the ass” - LSD could serve that role beautifully, stir them to action and let them take the necessary steps towards integration. A gate was open and Zeff walked through it, with the firm belief in a better future. The fact that seven years later LSD was made illegal didn’t stop him - he moved his practice underground and kept growing his network of patients and therapists.

Tentative at first, Zeff took great care to ensure the safety of his patients during their experiences. In the early days, he would invariably work in tandem with a physician, making sure there was always a medical professional present in case things went haywire. He would also experiment with different protocols and methods for preparation before a trip, knowing that the “setting” in which a trip takes place is a vital ingredient of the experience. He definitely wasn’t afraid to try unorthodox methods to get his patients to a breakthrough, as he himself relates:

“Also there was physical contact. It was important in those days that they would have something to resist before they turned on. Or as they were turning on. They were having trouble turning on—I’d tell them first that this might happen—I would lie down on top of them, grab the edge of the bed and say, “Now what I want you to do is push against me.” I want you to know, I hung on for dear life. I said, “Push harder, harder, harder!” And they did. When they succeeded in getting me off they were through to the other side! Their report of what happened as a result of that and later what they experienced was just a fascinating thing.”

Lying on top of someone as they are coming up on an LSD trip is definitely a strange thing to do. But apparently, it helped people achieve what they were after because Zeff’s reputation grew and word about him spread from patient to patient. He never achieved anything close to fame, of course, because of the first rule he always told patients - “no one can ever give out my name without prior clearance from me”. Even so, there was still a constant stream of people, friends of friends or friends of patients, who would seek Zeff’s services. Being this much sought-after can boost your self-esteem but also inflate your ego. This was something that Zeff was well aware of

“I learned to watch out for my motivations … To make sure … That I wasn’t doing it for self-aggrandizement or something like that. I learned very early that I am an instrument. I do not bring this experience to anybody. I provide them with the opportunity;”

These seem to be not just words, although they do sound like the emptiness that some new-age gurus parrot. In the words of Terence McKenna, Leo Zeff was “the wisest, kindest, gentlest” person he had ever met. Many other giants of the field of psychedelics express the same sentiment about him. They talk about his wise smile, the gentle yet firm way he carried himself, and his seemingly bottomless kindness. Ann Shulgin was deeply impressed by Leo, as was her husband. So were hundreds if not thousands of others who met him throughout his life.

Leo Zeff passed away in 1988. He gave no interviews about his work, and left no recordings, with one exception - the conversations he had with Myron Stolaroff and his wife. It is a shame that one of the greatest minds of the last century had to live and work in secrecy, in constant fear from the authorities. He dedicated his life to helping people and for that had to constantly look behind his back, always trying to preserve his anonymity, lest he or those close to him get thrown in jail. There is something deeply wrong with a culture that prosecutes its healers. I would love to say that this is something of the past, a bygone era that we have outgrown but unfortunately, it isn’t. The war on drugs did not stop in the 19th century, it wages on still, destroying the lives of thousands of people and denying the help needed by thousands more. This needs to stop.