When former Buffalo Bill Jordan Poyer heard New York Jets quarterback Aaron Rodgers extol the benefits of ayahuasca on The Pat McAfee Show in 2023, he was suspicious — but intrigued. Poyer had been struggling with his marriage and his recovery from alcoholism, and after hearing Rodgers discuss “plant medicine” — as the psychoactive brew is commonly described among acolytes — he decided to give it a try, to apparently life-changing results. Poyer relays all this in the recent Netflix documentary Aaron Rodgers: Enigma, which looks at the mystery of the possibly retiring Super Bowl champion.
Rodgers isn’t just any athlete partaking in psychedelics and inspiring others to do the same. He seems to be drawn to fringe concepts: He’s expressed anti-vax views and is a good friend of public health conspiracist Robert F. Kennedy Jr. He’s reportedly shown interest in 9/11 and Sandy Hook conspiracy theories, the latter of which he has denied. He believes that HIV/AIDS was invented by the government. Yet the 41-year-old self-professed perfectionist’s enthusiasm for ayahuasca, in particular, feels predictable for an increasingly mainstream category of men he represents: wealthy dudes who are obsessed with self-improvement and rely on their own “research” to an often troubling degree.
Likewise, a growing number of tech CEOs, like OpenAI’s Sam Altman, have raved about the “transformative” experience of taking ayahuasca, which has supposedly increased their productivity, creativity, and leadership skills. Controversial bro-science guys like spiritual wellness advocate Aubrey Marcus (also in Rodgers’s documentary) have expressed similar enthusiasm. Marcus, who wrote the self-help books Own the Day, Own Your Life and Master Your Mind, Master Your Life, recently made a film about the psychedelic ritual. Elon Musk and controversial computer scientist Lex Fridman took it together. Definitive “podcast bro” Joe Rogan has been an advocate of ayahuasca for years.
Still, the drug seems to have reached some kind of cultural tipping point. Even film and television have seen their fair share of men tripping out on the drug recently, from Oscar-bait movies like Queer to semi-prestige shows like Industry to cast members on Bravo reality shows, almost always depicting the ironically “feminine” drug being taken by men.
While there are some notable women who’ve partaken in ayahuasca rituals — including comedian Chelsea Handler, who said it led her to seek out therapy, and Lindsay Lohan, who said it “changed her life” — the increasingly male pop cultural footprint of ayahuasca use in Western culture has recently given the ancient drug a more cynical reputation.
Also popularly known as yage, ayahuasca has been used for thousands of years by Indigenous people in Peru, Brazil, Colombia, and Ecuador. The bitter-tasting herbal drink is made by boiling stem and bark from the Banisteriopsis caapi vine and the leaves of the Psychotria viridis shrub, which contains the strong psychedelic drug dimethyltryptamine (DMT). Known for its purgative qualities, a typical experience entails about four to six hours of crying, sweating, vomiting, and/or diarrhea, all while experiencing intense hallucinations.
Allison Feduccia, the founder of the drug safety organization Psychedelic Support, says that, historically, ayahuasca’s “healing potential ranged from many different physical ailments to psychological issues.” However, it’s increasingly become known for its effects on mental health. “I would say that the most known properties that people seek ayahuasca for in the modern day are healing of past traumas, of depression, addiction, disorders, and grief,” Feduccia said.
A common selling point for ayahuasca is that it’s supposedly like “10 years of therapy” in one day. Likewise, much of the marketing for ayahuasca retreats, including the notable number of all-male ones, lists “growth,” “purpose,” “brotherhood,” and “vulnerability” as some of the results that participants can gain from the experience. Retreats also emphasize a connection to nature.
There seems to be some truth to these claims of psychological improvement. A 2018 observational study found that participants who partook in an ayahuasca session showed improved emotional regulation and capacities for mindfulness 24 hours after intake. In another study, LGBTQ participants said they left the ritual feeling more affirmed about their identities. Researchers have also found that it can reduce depression.
According to some testimonials, it seems that the relative convenience of ayahuasca is a draw for a certain type of man who lives an optimized life — and maybe wants to shortcut long-term traditional therapy. Rodgers highlights this feature in his docuseries, calling it “the hardest medicine possible.” Powerful businessmen, like investor Eddy Vaisburg and COBE CEO Felix van de Sand, have talked about the experience in terms of making them better people and, therefore, better workers.
It’s even less of a surprise that these drugs are popular among men who claim to possess the most knowledge and creativity in society. Cultural historian Mike Jay, who wrote High Society: Mind-Altering Drugs in History and Culture, says psychedelics have always been attractive to “people who see themselves as powerful and or exceptional” and are thus drawn to their “magical possibilities.”
“The psychedelic adept is seen as someone creative and inspired, a Promethean figure who’s not afraid of reaching for godlike status,” says Jay.
The trend of rich, powerful men turning to ayahuasca has become a noticeable trope in film and TV over the past year, if one that often highlights the limitations of the medicine and the people taking it. In the latest season of the HBO financial drama Industry, banker Robert Spearing (Harry Lawtey) is dragged to an ayahuasca ceremony with his client, an arrogant and underqualified venture capitalist named Henry Muck (Kit Harrington). Little to no gravity is applied to Robert’s hallucinations, including his mommy- and work-related issues, a reminder that those unfamiliar with the experience have no idea what kind of insights ayahuasca users are actually receiving during these trips. In one ridiculous moment, he sees a scrolling ticker with the words “eat it,” referring to a scene in season one where his dominating love interest, Yasmin (Marisa Abela), orders him to consume his own semen. When they both emerge from their respective trips, Henry tells Robert that they “have to find a way to monetize this.”
Cast members from Bravo’s reality shows have also participated in ayahuasca ceremonies, specifically some of the more problematic men, eliciting eye rolls and skepticism from their cast members and the audience. On the latest season of the Bravo series Southern Charm, the show’s main “F-boy,” 45-year-old Shep Rose, goes on an ayahuasca retreat after being confronted by the cast for his excessive drinking and belligerent behavior. When he returns in the current season, he’s somehow even less aware of the effects of his actions on his friends. A similar situation played out on Bravo’s The Valley, where cast member Jesse Lally decides to save his marriage by leaving his family for several days to attend an ayahuasca ceremony. (It doesn’t work.)
The Luca Guadagnino film Queer, adapted from Williams Burroughs’s 1985 novella of the same name, also features two men whose attempts at healing through ayahuasca go terribly wrong. In the film’s third act, two emotionally distant lovers go to Ecuador and consume the brew, hoping to lose their inhibitions and embark on an unconstrained romance. Despite telepathically communicating with one another and figuratively vomiting their hearts out, it doesn’t bring them any closer.
So how did ayahuasca become such a man-coded trend? Jay says that, in the West, the area of psychedelics has always been “male-dominated,” from the discoveries by figures like Aldous Huxley, Albert Hofmann, and R. Gordon Wasson in the first half of the 20th century to its wider use throughout the counterculture movement.
“Psychedelics emerged from a culture where men still dominated the worlds of science and medicine, and self-experimenting with drugs was seen as heroic and pioneering,” says Jay. “The counterculture was similar to the scientific world that preceded it. And the tech/business world is rooted in the same assumptions.”
He says that women always had an “invisible” role in this science. However, traditional gender roles made it harder for women to undertake these experiments, which involved “public disinhibition” or “episodes that might be seen as psychotic.” Meanwhile, men, particularly those of high social standing, did not face repercussions for exhibiting undignified behavior.
“Privilege and social capital make it easier to carry it off and be taken seriously,” says Jay. “For those with more marginalized identities, it’s more harshly judged or seen as the mark of an unstable character.”
This thread of privilege is evident in who is most comfortable partaking in ayahuasca ceremonies, which are frequently set abroad in remote locations. “With psychedelics not being legal [in the United States], a lot of women with children might not want to take that type of risk,” says Feduccia. “Women might not be able to get away from home to take these trips to the Amazon.”
She also references the number of women who have spoken out about sexual abuse that can occur during these types of spiritual retreats, in addition to general concerns about safety when traveling. In a 2020 report for the BBC, a New Zealand woman describes going on an ayahuasca retreat where she was the only single woman and being coerced by the male shaman into performing sexual acts.
This all might help explain why the recent real and fictional depictions of male ayahuasca use are notably quite cynical. From Queer to Industry to The Valley, they defy the notion that the drug is automatically transformative or positive for each of its consumers. If you’re a toxic husband, a greedy capitalist, or an emotionally repressed individual, the potion may not have much to offer you. In fact, it may just make you a more insufferable and limited person.
Out of all of these examples, though, Rodgers’s docuseries might be the worst advertisement for dudes taking ayahuasca. In between interviews of the quarterback discussing how the drug has positively affected his life, viewers are bombarded with soundbites of Rodgers disputing vaccine research and scenes of him mingling with controversial figures, like Robert F. Kennedy Jr. Despite Poyer’s apparent success, Rodgers still seems to be doggedly searching, trying to find enough self-love to make it through his 20th season in the NFL, even with a torn Achilles tendon. It’s telling that, despite his claims of the drug’s effectiveness, he’s partaken in the ritual a staggering 10 times. While ayahuasca seems to have some healing power, it could definitely use better publicity.
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