Lessons from Timothy Leary.

Originally published on Medium.com, Aug 11, 2017.

“Is this popcorn safe?” (Timothy Leary as Mr. Jones in Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, 1992. Image by Tex Brook, CC BY 2.0)

As a youngster, I had the privilege to hang out with the late Timothy Leary. This was in the ’90s in L.A. He died a few years after that. I was introduced to him by mutual friends, the photographer Gisela Getty and the author and filmmaker Olaf Kraemer. He would hang out at their house in Beverly Hills and we would chat about the future of mankind and the universe. Coincidentally, I would also run into him at the place where I worked, he was contributing to a video game magazine there. So, we ended up hanging out and he invited me along to a number of parties. He was heavily into cyberculture at that time and had no interest to talk about shrooms when I wanted his opinion on the Stropharia cubensis. Instead, he couldn’t stop rambling about virtual reality.

Getting to know him had a big impact on me in a number of ways. First of all, he was an iconic, counterculture legend near the end of his life, but had the energy and the drive of a 16-year-old. I thought then, when I’m at that age, I want to be like that: Always exploring new frontiers, pushing the limits, questioning everything, and having fun doing it. We all need role models, right?

The other big thing that evoked my curiosity was, that he was preaching the VR gospel with a deep passion and commitment. Virtual reality as the new frontier, a new vision of unrestricted human expression and unlimited freedom. A remote mind-blowing colorful world, full of amazing out-of-body experiences and radical new concepts of human interaction. At that time, I was sure that VR would never become a reality during my lifetime, that it was just too far away from the grim and grey reality of computer performance in the early ’90s. At work I had a Macintosh IIfx, a machine considered fast at that time, but you would still need to take a coffeebreak after applying a Photoshop filter. The first 3D programs for the Mac, Swivel 3D and Stratavision, were extremely slow if you had more than three polygons on the screen. Fluid 3D performance seemed far, far away. Virtual reality, I thought, was an awesome vision, but it is not going to happen during my lifetime. I remember sharing my negative views with Leary, he dismissed them. VR will come sooner than you think, he said. He was optimistic and he was right. Lesson learned; hats off to him.

In those days, cyberculture was sort of part of the whole counterculture thing. Mondo 2000 was the magazine leading the pack. Subversive ideas of chaos culture, fractal art, techno-shamans and mind hacks inspired a whole generation with truckloads of music, books, fashion, magazines, and games.

That is why I can’t take anyone seriously who says that VR could be a fad. Why? Because it is way more than just a new technology. It has a whole cultural underbelly that is not only large in volume but also significant. A lot of the ideas from cyberculture touch cultural archetypes and go deep into the human experience. And so does the passion for VR. Long-term strategists know all this, that’s why they are so sure about the positive outlook for VR. The importance and impact of this culture will be more obvious in future generations; in the end, it is the technology that is just catching up with human imagination.

I find it worthy to revisit the ideas and the spirit of the cyberculture rebels whom Leary had such a strong link with, especially considering the context that VR today is mostly seen as an escapist medium. You can’t help but get the impression that contemporary VR is seen as a dreamworld escape from the unpleasant realities of our time: climate change, overpopulation, inequality, and cultural conflict. 
In contrast to that, the cyberculture of the ’90s, even reaching back to its early days in the ’80s, was foremost an anti-authoritarian idea. This was to a large extend what drove Leary. Entering cyberworlds was the idea of hacking into authoritarian structures, freeing yourself from restrictions, disabling regimes, and unmounting a ruling cast. By that standards, the killer-app for VR would be a subversive, political one.

I always saw Leary as the ultimate rebel, who kept his spirit well into old age with a joyful energetic drive. I remember, I once had a fight over a bathroom door with him at a party. He just enjoyed fun fights and he had a blast playing little pranks on people. As a brilliant rebel prankster and disruptor, he was a true inspiration. It is people like him that drive the entrepreneurial spirit. His optimism has taught me three lessons.

Lesson 1: Whatever is your struggle, see the humor in it, have a laugh, and enjoy every minute of it.

Lesson 2: Question Authority is not an outdated slogan from decades ago, it is the essence of progressive change.

Lesson 3: The impossible can happen. Virtual reality was the impossible not too long ago, now it is on its way in.


Further reading:
Timothy Leary: Chaos and Cyber Culture
UploadVR: Psychedelic & Virtual Reality II
Mondo 2000: History
Wired: Timewarp Mondo 2000