JOHANN HARI INTERVIEW

by Anonymous

Abstract:

Johann is a journalist and author. His most recent book is Lost Connections: Uncovering the real causes of depression – and the unexpected solutions.

Key words: depression; addiction; anxiety; opioid crisis; war on drugs; social prescription; narrative practice

I recently had the pleasure of interviewing journalist, Johann Hari, author of Lost Connections (2018) and Chasing the Scream (2015a), and presenter of the Ted Talk ‘Everything you think you know about addiction is wrong’ (2015b). This was incredibly exciting for me, because many of his ideas are in alignment with the ideas and practices of the Deconstructing Addiction League (2004), which we are currently developing. In his work, Johann offers fascinating insights into the study of ‘addiction’, ‘anxiety’ and ‘depression’, and I’d like to share some of his findings with you.

The idea that first drew me to Johann’s work was that anxiety and depression are social issues. In Lost Connections, Johann debunks the story that depression is a biochemical issue caused by a lack of serotonin in the brain. He then goes on to discuss several forms of disconnection that contribute to anxiety and depression in the lived context of people’s lives. Throughout the book, Johann tells beautiful stories of people joining together in ways that enable them to overcome these issues through individual and collective action. Johann’s work offers us a map that can lead people out of suffering and into exciting new territories of life. This map is not limited to anxiety and depression; it is also significant for people reclaiming their lives from substances, as disconnection and isolation are two of the biggest issues confronting people on this journey.

In the interview, we refer to a scientific study that showed that when rats were isolated in cages and were offered a choice between plain water and water laced with opiates or cocaine, the rats mostly opted for the drugged water and drank themselves to death. However, when scientist Bruce Alexander (Alexander et al., 1981) built a rat park that mimicked a natural habitat with lots of tunnels, food and other rats to play with, most of the rats chose not to drink the drugged water. This was so even for the rats who had previously been hooked on the drugged water. The suggestion from this experiment was that chemical hooks (though still dangerous) do not mean as much as people think they do. Hence, Johann suggests that the opposite of addiction is not sobriety — it’s connection.

In Chasing the Scream, Johann’s critique of the war on drugs is simultaneously illuminating and hair-raising. His critical history allows us to see the direct effects of drug policies on people’s lives. He provides some much-needed context that shows how current systems of prohibition that focus on punishing addicts are actually making things worse and making the world a much less safe place. He takes us to Tent City in Arizona where addicts are severely punished by the state, and where one woman was left in a cage in the hot sun while prison guards humiliated her and ignored her screams until she was literally cooked to death. From there, he takes us to Portugal where all drugs have been decriminalised, and where the state has taken the money it used to spend on prosecuting and locking up addicts and put it into creating job opportunities and other support systems, with remarkable results to show for it.

This brings us to the current opioid crisis, which Johann and I discuss briefly. The opioid crisis in North America is at epidemic proportions. Time magazine reported that around 65 000 Americans are dying each year from overdose, which is almost as many American casualties as the Vietnam, Iraqi and Afghanistan wars combined. The crisis is so pervasive that it has lowered the life expectancy of American men by a considerable amount. The need for an organised community response is more urgent than ever, and I hope this interview will inspire people to join and support the Deconstructing Addiction League. You can find us at deconstructingaddiction.com

Here is the interview, please enjoy.

Interviewer: One of the things that struck me in Lost Connections was the idea of listening to your pain. I loved this because pain is so often ignored, especially in the context of treatment for addiction where emotional pain is sometimes dubiously construed as self-pity or self-obsession. I love your idea that pain is a testament to what’s important and a cue to what’s missing in life.

Johann: I think that as a culture, we have pathologised emotional pain. When I was a teenager, I went to my doctor and explained that I had this feeling that pain was kind of leaking out of me, and I couldn’t control or regulate it. My doctor told me an entirely biological story about why I felt this way. He said, there’s a chemical called serotonin in people’s brains. Some people are naturally lacking it, and you’re clearly one of them. All you need is drugs.

In a different way, we’ve been blind to people’s pain when it comes to, for example, the opioid crisis. We blame the opioid crisis on the drug rather than saying, well, if you want to understand why people are taking huge numbers of painkillers, perhaps we need to talk about the pain they’re in – the psychological pain they’re in. As a culture, we’ve pathologised emotional pain and acted like it’s a technical glitch: in the case of depression, we treat it as just a chemical imbalance in the brain; in the case of addiction, we treat it as just a response to the chemical hooks within the drug itself. Both of these explanations disregard the deep social and psychological causes that produce depression and addiction.

Here is a very trivial example of how we might think about pain more broadly. I’m a European but I spend a lot of my time in the US and I remember the first time an American offered me an indigestion pill, you know, Pepto-Bismol or whatever it was. I remember saying, wait, indigestion isn’t a malfunction, it’s a function, right? Indigestion is a signal from your body telling you that you’re eating too fast and you need to slow down. If you don’t listen to that signal, you’re going to eat too much, you’re going to make yourself sick, you’re going to give yourself digestion problems, it’s going to be horrible. You need to listen to that signal. It’s telling you something. It doesn’t mean that you should remain in the state of indigestion – I’m not saying people should remain in a state of depression – I’m saying that depression is a signal telling us we need to change. And I say ‘we’ not ‘I’ – it’s a signal telling us we need collective and social change. This requires a reorientation in how we think about problems.

One of the moments this really fell into place for me was when I interviewed a South African psychiatrist called Derek Summerfield who happened to be in Cambodia when they first introduced chemical antidepressants in that country. The local Cambodian doctors didn’t know what these drugs were so he explained to them. They said to him, we don’t need them, we’ve already got antidepressants, and he said, what do you mean? He thought they were going to talk about some kind of herbal remedy or something. Instead, they told him a story: there was a farmer in their community who worked in the rice fields. One day he stood on a landmine and he got his leg blown off. So they gave him an artificial limb and he went back to work in the rice fields. But apparently it’s very painful to work underwater when you’ve got an artificial limb, and I’m imagining it was traumatic for obvious reasons. The guy started to cry all day, didn’t want to get out of bed – classic depression, right? So they said to Derek, well, we gave him an antidepressant, and Derek said, well, what was it? They explained that they went and sat with him. They listened to him. They realised that his pain made sense. They figured out that if they bought him a cow, he could become a dairy farmer, and he wouldn’t be in this situation that was causing him so much distress. So they bought him a cow. Within a couple of weeks, his crying stopped. Within a month his depression was gone. They said to Derek, that cow, that was an antidepressant, right? Now if you’ve been raised to think about depression and distress the way we have, that sounds like a joke – I went to my doctor for an antidepressant and she gave me a cow. But what those Cambodian doctors knew intuitively was what the leading medical body, The World Health Organization, has been trying to tell us for years. If you’re depressed, if you’re anxious, you’re not crazy; you’re not a machine with broken parts, you’re a human being with unmet needs and you need love, support and practical help to get those deeper needs met. That’s a very different way of thinking about our pain and distress, but it’s the one that best fits with the evidence.

Interviewer: One thing that I thought was really interesting was you said that in the United States, if you try to make yourself happy, you will not become happy, but in Japan, Taiwan and Russia, you will become happier. You put this in the context of individual versus collective cultures. I thought that was really interesting and now you’re talking about Cambodia and the cow and that seems to fit together.

Johann: The Amish have the lowest levels of depression in the United States. For a gay left-wing atheist, it was pretty challenging to go and spend time with the Amish, and I’m not advocating that we all convert to being Amish by any means, but it tells us something that they have such low levels of depression. One of the things it tells us is that they’re living in ways that are closer to our human nature in some respects. We evolved as a tribal species, we evolved to live in tribes. Just like honey bees need a hive, humans need a tribe. The Amish have a very deep sense of meaning and purpose. They have a sense of being together and they’re very equal. They have gender inequality, which is appalling, but the richest Amish man is as rich as the poorest Amish man; the richest Amish woman is as wealthy as the poorest Amish woman. There’s all sorts of ways in which they live that are much more compatible with our fundamental nature than how we are living. This gives us a direction in which to travel – towards greater equality, towards greater meaning and purpose, towards greater communal connection.

The Amish way won’t work for most of us, but I think you’re right that this extreme individualism that we have created as a culture is extremely anomalous in human history. There has never before been a group of humans who have tried to disband their tribes and tell themselves they can just live alone. This peculiarly late Western, and unusually American, way of thinking is a very recent human experiment. It has yielded some positive effects, but largely is not working well for us. We’re the loneliest society there’s ever been.

There’s a study that asks Americans how many close friends they have who could be called on in a crisis. When they started doing this study years ago, the most common answer was five. Today, the most common answer is none. It’s not the average but it’s the most common answer. There are more people who have nobody to turn to when things go wrong.

Interviewer: You have written about cortisol levels in the body elevating under loneliness and stress, and how your level of cortisol is the same under a physical attack as it is when you’re lonely. That struck me.

Johann: When you’re acutely lonely, yeah, and you can see why: in the circumstances in which humans evolved, if you were separated from the tribe, you were in terrible danger. As Professor John Cacioppo put it to me, that was a necessary aversive signal to get you back to the tribe. We’re still that species, we still have those instincts.

If you think about leprosy, people think it makes your fingers fall off or whatever – it doesn’t. What happens in leprosy is the progressive inability to feel physical pain. So it’s not that it causes your fingers to fall off, but if you have leprosy and you put your finger on a burning stove, for example, you won’t notice that it’s on the burning stove, and it will become terribly damaged. When you do notice, it can be too late.

We can understand other pain in a similar way. This is not my analogy, this is from Stephen Grosz, who’s a wonderful psychoanalyst who wrote a book called The examined life (2013), which I really recommend. He says that we have pain for a reason, and just like you need to be able to experience your physical pain in order to keep yourself safe, you need to be able to experience your emotional pain in order to keep yourself safe, in order to understand what’s going on. And again, that requires us not to pathologise those signals but to understand them. That’s what we’ve systematically not been doing with this very crude and reductive biomedical way of thinking about our pain. Now it’s not that there’s no truth in these ways of talking, there are really significant biological contributors to depression and anxiety, just like chemical hooks do indeed exist in drugs. They are real, but they’re just one part of a much bigger and more complex and nuanced picture.

Interviewer: If you don’t mind, I would like to talk about addiction. You have said that the opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s connection. I am excited about how you’ve changed the conversation around addiction. With the Deconstructing Addiction League, we are hoping to build an equivalent to Rat Park, where connection can become an available lifestyle for people. One thing that I feel is overlooked in the addictions field is the idea that fun is needed, play is needed. It’s important to feel connected, to feel alive. Creating new forms of community where people can play without alcohol and drugs at the centre can be a transformative practice. When you talk about Rat Park, you talk about connection being so important, and that’s completely in sync with what we have come up with for the Deconstructing Addiction League. I’d love to hear you talk just a little bit more about that, and about what you think about creating a metaphorical Rat Park.

Johann: I’ve been to places that apply the lessons of Rat Park. The most obvious and immediate application of the Rat Park principle is to help us understand why the war on drugs has failed so catastrophically. The war on drugs is premised on the idea that in order to reduce addiction, you need to impose suffering on people with addiction problems to give them an incentive to stop. But once you understand that suffering is the cause of addiction, that the core of addiction is about not wanting to be present in your life because your life is too painful a place to be, that helps you to see why the war on drugs not only fails when it comes to addiction, it makes the problem worse. I think about the women in Arizona who I went out with on a chain gang. They were made to go out wearing t-shirts saying ‘I was a drug addict’ while members of the public mocked them. This approach not only fails to treat their addiction, it’s likely to make their addiction worse. They’re going to leave prison even more traumatised.

Interviewer: We have a system that keeps people addicted.

Johann: Gabor Mate said to me, if you wanted to design a system that would keep people addicted, you would design the war on drugs. He’s not saying and I’m not saying it’s a deliberate thing. It’s not that they wanted to, it’s just such a foolish approach.

Interviewer: Reading your book, I realised that we’ve created the stereotypical addict. Before the war on drugs, when you could buy heroin at Woolworths or whatever, and you could treat yourself, or a doctor could prescribe it to you, the stereotypical addict didn’t exist. You didn’t need to lie and hustle and steal and do all these crazy things to get high. You didn’t need to do that until prohibition drove up the prices and created the image that people think of when they think of drug addicts. We’ve actually created that.

Johann: I think there’s a core in what you’re saying that’s right, but there were certainly people with addiction problems prior to prohibition. Prohibition made those problems significantly worse in all sorts of ways.

Interviewer: Prohibition didn’t create addiction, but I think it created the stereotype, the stereotypical addict. Before prohibition, people were addicted but they went to work. They could manage in their own lives quite well, especially with the heroin prescription program. People weren’t stealing, they weren’t turning tricks, doing all the things that people associate with junkies. They were able to function when they were prescribed an affordable dose.

Johann: That wouldn’t have been true of absolutely everyone, but certainly a far higher proportion than under the current system. We can see that not only in history but in Switzerland in the year 2000 where they legalised heroin for people with addiction problems. I went to the clinics in Geneva where they prescribe the heroin. You have to turn up in the morning and you can’t take it out with you, you have to use it while a nurse watches you. Since then, there have been zero heroin overdose deaths on the legal program, and the illegal market has shrunk enormously.

One of the most revealing moments for me in the research was when I went to Switzerland, and I spent time in the heroin clinic in Geneva. I remember speaking to Rita Manghi, who was the chief psychiatrist in this prescribing clinic. One of the things that surprised me about the heroin program there is that when you’re assigned to a clinic because you’ve got a heroin addiction, they’ll give you any dose you want of heroin, except for one that would literally kill you. And you can stay on that program for as long as you want. There’s never any pressure to cut back and there’s never any pressure to stop. But almost everyone does cut back over time and does stop because they give you the drug, but they also give you enormous amounts of support – they help with housing and employment, they give lots of therapy. I asked Rita about it and she said to me, well their lives get better, and as their lives get better, they don’t want to be anaesthetised so much. This seems obvious once you’re told it.

It fits with the deeper understanding of addiction, that the core of addiction is about not wanting to be present in your life because your life is too painful a place to be, and that the best responses to addiction across the board are ones that make life a better place to be. Of course, this takes many different forms in many different places, and it’s a very challenging line.

Marianne Faithfull, the great British rock star, had a period when she was homeless in the ’60s and she had a heroin addiction. In her autobiography she says that heroin saved her life because if it wasn’t for heroin, she would’ve killed herself. It’s a very challenging thing to read, and of course she’s not saying, and I’m not saying, that heroin is a good solution to despair; of course it isn’t for all sorts of obvious reasons. But there’s a really important insight there: many of the people who are choosing, for example, heroin addiction, are choosing it because the alternative that’s been offered to them – excruciating psychological pain – is even worse. And what we need to do is to give them a better third option. When that’s been tried in Portugal and Switzerland there have been really remarkable results.

Interviewer: You talk about different tiers of legalisation, I was wondering if you could speak to what that might look like.

Johann: Well it’s important to understand legalisation, so let’s think about this with animals. In the United States, it is legal to own a dog, a monkey or a lion. But it’s legal in very different ways. So to get a dog, you just go to a store. For a monkey, I’m pretty sure in New York you need a licence. And to own a lion, they make it really hard. You can’t just have a lion in your yard. In parts of the United States where you can legally own a lion I’m sure they come and inspect your house, they make sure you’re not a lunatic. There are very strict regulations about where you can have it. In a similar way, I’m in favour of legalising all drugs, but that means different things for different drugs. Virtually nobody is in favour of regulating methamphetamine or crack in the same way that alcohol is currently regulated, in the same way that cannabis is currently legal in some places.

We’ve got working models for two forms of regulated legalisation: we’ve got the United States’ experience of legalising cannabis and the Swiss model we’ve been talking about. I’ve been to Colorado and other places where cannabis has been legalised like alcohol. You’ve got to be over 21, and so on. I would actually tighten the regulations in Colorado and Washington a little bit, I would not have allowed edibles to be part of the legalisation for example, but that’s a model that’s working and it’s a vast improvement. Fifty-five per cent of people in Colorado voted for legalisation, and now that they’ve seen it in practice, about 70% of people support it. Even people who led the opposition, like Governor John Hickenlooper, now say it works pretty well. That’s one model for a particular drug, cannabis. Then we’ve got the Swiss model of legalising heroin. Very different. You can’t just go into a store and find the heroin aisle and buy it. You’re assigned to a clinic, you have to go there, you have to use it in the clinic, you can’t take it out with you so it can’t be resold, you’re monitored by a nurse, all of those things. So that’s a very different model. I would apply that model for heroin. I think it would be one component among others of how we could reverse the catastrophic rise in opioid deaths in the United States.

Then there are other models that we need to cautiously experiment with. For example, with ecstasy, I think we could experiment with licensed clubs that could sell a medically pure product. Possibly the same with cocaine. For things like meth, we might want to have things like safe consumption rooms. I’m speaking to you from Australia, where they’re hoping to experiment with that, people are campaigning to experiment with that. So I think there’s a range of different models that we can cautiously experiment with and see the results. It’s possible to have different tiers of legalisation for different drugs.

Interviewer: I liked how you described the campaign for the legalisation of cannabis in Washington State, and how they had to explain to people that they were not advocating for the use of drugs, or even saying they liked drugs. Could you explain a little bit about this?

Johann: Most Americans can make that distinction when it comes to other things. For example, no one would think it was a contradiction to say that it should be legal to be gay but they don’t personally have to want to have gay sex. In a similar way, I don’t drink alcohol and I’m strongly opposed to alcohol prohibition – no-one would find that a weird contradiction, right? But very often, drug law reform has been presented as a question of whether you personally like drug use and want to engage in it. If the answer is yes, you support legalisation; if the answer is no, you oppose it. That’s a ridiculous way of talking about it. The question we should be asking is whether you think the enormous trade in drugs other than alcohol and tobacco should be controlled by armed criminal gangs who supply an inferior product, and do you think drug users and people with addiction problems should be sent to prison. If the answer to that is yes, then you are in favour of prohibition. If the answer to that is no, then you should be in favour of models of licensed, legal, regulated sale. That’s the way the question needs to be framed to people and it does our side no favours if we present ourselves as the champions of drug use itself. There are people who champion drug use and they have some good arguments and they’re an important part of the debate, but that’s not the question when it comes to legalisation, that’s a different debate.

Interviewer: There was an entire edition of Time magazine devoted to the opioid crisis. I thought it was great that they were talking about decriminalising the use of drugs including opiates, but they were still talking about cutting off the supply, and being tough on dealers. They didn’t get the point about how prohibition actually allows armed drug gangs to control the market and makes everything more dangerous, and how that’s one of the reasons why people are dying. So I was wondering what you thought about that issue of Time magazine.

Johann: That is one of the things they misunderstood, but there’s a much deeper misunderstanding happening in the US at the moment around the opioid crisis. I think the things that are being proposed as solutions will actually make the problem worse because we’ve profoundly misunderstood what’s happening. If you want to understand why people are taking so many painkillers, you have to understand why they’re in such deep pain. That’s what my book Lost Connections is about.

If you want to understand the opioid crisis, there’s a historical analogy that can help. In the eighteenth century in Britain, something happened called the gin craze. Huge numbers of people were driven out of the countryside into these disgusting urban slums in places like London and Manchester. There was a mass outbreak of alcoholism, of gin addiction. At the time, people said look at this evil drug gin, look at what it does to people. If only we could get rid of gin, we would solve the problem. Now when we look back, we can see that it couldn’t have been gin that caused the problem, because anyone in Britain who’s over the age of 18 can go and buy gin, and – though we still have problems with alcoholism, of course – there is not an epidemic of mass alcoholism everywhere. So what changed? What changed was not the availability of the drug; what changed was the amount of pain in the society. That was a society where people had lost the things that made life meaningful, they’d been deprived of the environment that made sense to them, and they were plunged into a horrifying, chaotic, disgusting situation that did not meet their needs as human beings.

A very similar thing has happened in the United States in the places where the opioid crisis is worse. I think about places like Monadnock in New Hampshire where I’ve spent a fair bit of time. What’s happening there is that people have been deprived of the things that make life meaningful. These are places where community has collapsed, where meaningful work has collapsed. Even for people who do have employment, a sense of meaning and purpose has collapsed. People are under tremendous financial pressure and feel a sense of deep humiliation. They have no sense of a positive future for themselves or their children. That produces deep pain for perfectly good and understandable reasons. In those contexts, some people will choose very powerful painkillers. It’s not a coincidence that the places that have the highest levels of opioid addiction also have the highest suicide rates, also have the highest levels of antidepressant use. This is why leading economists like Professor Angus Deaton have said that opioid deaths should be regarded as deaths of despair, which is exactly what they are.

Going back to what you asked about right at the beginning, these are signals that we should be listening to, these are signals of profound distress and despair. If we had listened to those signals right from the start, you would not have had President Trump – support for Trump correlates very closely with collapse in social capital. Now like pretty much everyone who’s going to read your article, I regard Trump as an absolutely horrifying catastrophe, but we have to understand the deep reasons why this has happened. One of them is that this is an alarm signal. And in the case of Trump, just like with opioids, we have to understand what’s going on here.

Interviewer: In Chasing the Scream, you talked about Harry Anslinger and how one of the reasons for the drug war was to keep Black, Chinese and Mexican people from forgetting their place. I thought that was a really keen insight. You also pointed out how Black men in Washington DC are targets of drug policing. Forty to 50% of Black men between the ages of 15 and 35 are in jail, have a warrant out or are on probation, mostly for drug offences. And that is scary. And then you went on to discuss the discrimination against addicts – busted drug addicts are basically unemployable. They lose their rights as citizens too – they can’t vote, they’re kicked out of public housing. They can’t even visit a family member in public housing without the entire family getting kicked out. I have a friend who wasn’t allowed to inherit money when his father died because he’d been in prison on a drug charge. It’s insane what’s happening to people.

Johann: One of the tragedies here is that instead of building ways for people to reconnect, we’ve been putting barriers between individuals and preventing people from reconnecting with the wider society. People who are experiencing addiction problems need enormous amounts of support to reconnect with meaning, purpose and the wider society and culture. Instead, we’re creating barriers. Criminal records are an obvious example, but there are many more. These barriers deepen the problem; they make it much harder for people to get back to a decent life.

Interviewer: You’ve made a strong link between childhood trauma and addiction, which you said was mind boggling when you were going through all the research.

Johann: The adverse childhood experiences study, carried out by Dr Vincent Felitti, looked at 10 categories of childhood trauma, things like neglect, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and so on. What it found was that for every category of childhood trauma you experienced, you were two to four times more likely to develop an addiction problem as an adult. What’s particularly shocking is when you get into the multiple categories. If you had six categories of childhood trauma, you were 4600% more likely to become an injecting drug user as an adult. You were 3100% more likely to grow up to be so severely depressed that you attempted suicide. So there’s a very strong relationship between childhood trauma and adult depression.

There’s a debate about why that is. I think part of it is related to the insight that if you experience a lot of childhood trauma, you’re much more likely to find it hard to trust other people; you’re much more likely to isolate yourself, or have more tentative and tenuous connections with others. But there are other things going on that fit with a wider body of research. We know from people like Professor James Pennebaker that shame destroys people. We know that during the AIDS crisis for example, openly gay men lived on average two years longer than closeted gay men, even when they got health care at the same time. Shame is profoundly physically corrosive. It destroys people psychologically and physically. There’s interesting research about giving people opportunities to release their shame and to see that they should not have been mistreated as children, and this leads to a really significant reduction in depression and addiction.

Interviewer: To wrap this up, let’s talk about disconnection and reconnection. The idea in my mind is that you’re talking about social prescription, and that the things that are relevant for depression could in some ways be relevant for addiction. Do you think people reclaiming their lives from depression and anxiety and people reclaiming their lives from addiction could engage in the practices that you’ve been talking about and have similar results?

Johann: I think addiction is a way of coping with depression, and depression is, in part, the result of a deep sense of disconnection. So I do think they’re intensely related. I think you would really struggle to find an addicted person who had not become profoundly disconnected. I think that’s partly what addiction is – it’s an attempt to anaesthetise yourself against the pain of disconnection. I think things that work with depression would work with addiction. One of the most successful parts of the Portuguese decriminalisation of drugs was that they took all the money they used to spend on screwing people’s lives up – punishing them, imprisoning them, shaming them, putting them on trial – they spent all that money instead on turning people’s lives around. It’s interesting, it’s not really what we think of as drug treatment in the US and Britain. They offer a bit of residential rehab, but what’s also important is the message that their system sends to people. It says, we love you, we value you, we’re on your side, we want you back. And that is the core. That is very similar to social prescribing, which I write about in Lost Connections. It’s about helping people to reconnect in very practical ways, which is not just a kind of talk therapy, although that has real value, not just things like antidepressants, although they have value too. It’s a deeper message.

References:

Alexander, B. K., Beyerstein, B. L., Hadaway, P. F., & Coambs, R. B. (1981). Effects of early and later colony housing on oral ingestion of morphine in rats. Pharmacology Biochemistry and Behavior, 15(4), 571–576.

Grosz, S. (2013). The examined life: How we lose and find ourselves. New York, NY: Norton.

Hari, J. (2015a). Chasing the scream: The opposite of addiction is connection. New York, NY: Bloomsbury.

Hari, J. (2015b, June). Johann Hari: Everything you think you know about addiction is wrong. Retrieved from www.ted.com/ talks/johann_hari_everything_you_think_you_know_about_ addiction_is_wrong

Hari, J. (2018). Lost connections: Uncovering the real causes of depression – and the unexpected solutions. New York, NY: Bloomsbury.

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