A revolutionary new paradigm for understanding addiction
Why do people with addiction use drugs self-destructively? Why don’t they quit out of self-concern? Why does the rat in the experiment, alone in a cage, press the lever again and again for cocaine—to the point of death? In this pathbreaking book, Hanna Pickard proposes a new paradigm for understanding the puzzle of addiction. For too long, our thinking has been hostage to a false either addiction is a brain disease, or it is a moral failing. Pickard argues that it is neither, and that both models stifle addiction research and fail people who need help.
Drawing on her expertise as an academic philosopher and her clinical work in a therapeutic community, Pickard explores the meaning of drugs for people with addiction and the diverse factors that keep them using despite the costs. People use drugs to cope with suffering—but also to self-harm, or even to die. Some identify as “addicts," while others are in denial or struggle with cravings and self-control. Social, cultural, and economic circumstances are crucial to explaining addiction—but brain pathology may also matter. By integrating addiction science with philosophy, clinical practice, and the psychology and voices of people with addiction themselves, Pickard shows why there is no one-size-fits-all theory or ethics of addiction. The result is a heterogeneous and humanistic paradigm for understanding and treating addiction, and a fresh way of thinking about responsibility, blame, and relationships with people who use drugs.
Professor in Philosophy of Psychology at the University of Birmingham. On leave (2017-2019) to visit Princeton University as a Research Scholar to the Program in Cognitive Science.
Worked in a NHS Specialist Service (2007-2017) for people with personality disorder and complex needs. Was also a fellow of All Souls College, Oxford from 1997-2017.
heavy on the philosophy, heavy on the academia, but overall very informative and interesting look at how cultural beliefs can seep into medical and scientific approaches and vice versa. if you can’t handle the very detailed and lengthy sections on the semantics of “addiction” and “drugs” then i would suggest, as the author does in her introduction, to at least skip to the final part and read the sections on ethics, relationships, responsibility, and blame. those were my favorite in the book and they contain information that i think is useful and important to everyone, not just people who are currently affected by addiction in some way.
In What Would You Do Alone in a Cage with Nothing but Cocaine?, Hanna Pickard presents a thoughtful and humanistic examination of addiction that challenges the idea that it is either a brain disease or a moral failing. Drawing on her work as both a philosopher and clinician, she offers a nuanced framework that reflects the real complexity of addiction.
Pickard explores the many reasons people continue to use substances despite harmful consequences, emphasizing that motivations, internal drives, and readiness to quit vary widely. Through engaging studies and real-world insights, she shows how addiction is shaped by psychological, social, cultural, and economic factors, while still acknowledging the possible role of brain pathology. One of the book’s greatest strengths is how effectively it captures the complexity of addiction without losing clarity or compassion with many of the examples feeling broadly applicable to human behaviour beyond addiction itself.
The book is informative and engaging, holding my interest throughout. It helped me better understand the diverse motivations behind addiction and offered a compassionate, flexible way of thinking about responsibility and recovery. This is a valuable read for anyone interested in addiction, psychology, or more ethical and realistic approaches to care.
I liked the positive definitions provided in the book, and the combination of analytic and practical discussion. It could have done a lot more to differentiate its position from others, e.g. explain why the alcoholics anonymous position could be harmful
I picked up this book as I felt I'd like to understand what makes us an addict. I was addicted to nicotine for about five decades. It's more than 3 years I'm tobacco free. But, not yet free from cravings. I still need something to chew like cardamom seeds and cloves. Not being free from cravings, I consider myself as still addicted. But Hanna Pickard's new definition of addiction will probably exclude me from that characterization. This book deals with the philosophy of addiction (it doesn't even list nicotine addiction, though it includes caffeine addiction) and argues for a paradigm shift away from unidimensional approaches to addiction research. It is an academic work meant for health administration and professionals. Though, it's not a very difficult book to follow by general readers if one is sufficiently interested in the philosophy of addiction. BTW, I'm still unable to understand my cravings without recourse to brain disease or chemistry model!
Let’s say that you live with chronic pain and are nearly bedridden most days with a physical or mental disability. Let’s say that you work two full time jobs and spend nearly all the time outside of those two jobs either sleeping or eating. Let’s say that your entire social circle is centered around going to the bar and you don’t know anyone outside of this group of friends and can’t seem to meet anyone new. Let’s say you were alone in a cage with nothing but cocaine.
This is an extremely academic book. As in, it is one of those books that creates a very specific definition of something (in this case: addiction: a pattern) and then defines several bullet points further defining this explication. It is dense and repetitive in that way that many long, non-pop-nonfiction texts are. This is not at all a bad thing for a book to be, but it just shrinks your audience to those who are used to reading academic texts. The vocabulary and referenced ideas are not too advanced or specific and Pickard is sure to explain or define anything when it is brought up, so it’s not academic in that sense it is more so the formatting that is academic in nature.
Despite me saying that, I don’t think that this is too inaccessible of a book even if you are not familiar with academic writing (I myself only hold an Associates and never got far enough anywhere to begin to read these texts). I am ultimately glad that I have read this book and will carry many of its words with me in the future when discussing substance addiction. It is just very repetitive. It felt like there were multiple points every chapter where the author would finish describing something and then go back to either her main definition of addiction or another specification from an earlier chapter. It is hard to critique this because this is how academic writing that I have encountered always works (I have never read any philosophy academic works before, but I assume it is also common in those), but expectations should be set before going in. All of this to say: it is good research and academic writing but might be way too dry and repetitive if you are just looking for a book about addiction and communicating with those living with addiction.
Pickard explicates addiction as: “a pattern of drug use that persists despite evident and severe costs such that it counts profoundly against a person’s own good”. Primarily, she explores the reasons that people may become addicted to a substance (self-medication, self harm, a person’s social, cultural, and economic status, etc.) as well as why they continue to choose to use drugs despite their “evident and severe costs”. My use of the word “choose” there is intentional as Pickard is clear throughout the book that she does not see addiction as a explicitly a brain disease and instead as a pattern of behaviors influenced by the prior mentioned areas (she acknowledges that some cases of addiction do seem to be influenced by brain changes from drug use but argues that those cases do not define addiction as a whole).
I enjoyed Pickard's arguments and explanations a lot. I had this thought throughout the majority of the book that everything she was describing was common sense and decency but, looking back after the conclusion, I felt instead that Pickard just has a gift for making the complex become simple. Despite me having never read a book about addiction before and only encountering it through a few early psychology courses and social media, I was never confused or lost in either her explanations or her arguments. She is clearly a very skillful academic writer and I am very impressed looking back at how she laid out her arguments and explanations using a mixture of research (both modern and older), memoirs by people who have dealt with addiction, and some of her own experiences working in a group therapy model for people with BPD - many of whom dealt with addiction.
I’m frustrated with myself for only giving this book 3 stars, but I considered DNF-ing it many times throughout solely because of the academic nature of it. I got very bored at points (especially early), I will admit. I very strongly recommend this book if you are looking for a breath of fresh air from a skilled writer about addiction and are fine reading the academic formatting. Genuinely, there are full perspective shifting moments throughout the entire book.
Este fue un libro denso, muy filosófico, pero con una aproximación "práctica". La autora pone mucho de sí para desmenuzar el tema de manera eficiente, con ejemplos, abstracciones y reflexiones que van no solo desde lo filosófico, sino lo clínico, psicológico, social y neurológico. Creo que es una exploración demasiado compleja sobre la adicción. La autora construye y desarrolla un paradigma de la adicción no solo muy completo, pero también interesado en como aportar, como generar transformaciones en como las políticas y las intervenciones a las personas con adicciones, adicciones a las drogas para ser específicos. Es un poco pesado y lento pero en ningún momento tedioso.
THE PARADIGM proposed over the course of this book is humanistic and heterogeneous. It is humanistic in its emphasis on the power of psychology to explain addiction—a power that is always to be understood relative to the circumstances of a person’s life—and the importance of each person’s understanding and evaluation of their own drug use to the nature and diagnosis of their addiction. It is heterogeneous in its insistence that there is no one-size-fits-all explanation or theory of addiction.
This was a dense and interesting book that is a little hard to get through but is worth a read if you have interest in the topic. I work with people with substance use disorders, as addict and addiction have fallen out of favor, and I was involved with the implementation of medication assisted therapy many years ago that seemed so very promising but has failed in many ways. It is human nature to look for a magic bullet, just one medication that can solve a problem. We would even take a few different bullets or medications or therapies if they could be proven to work for the majority of people. I truly bought into the brain hijacking hypothesis as it seemed to be true for many, that they completely changed and there was no rationalizing with them. The author has a lot of explanation for her philosophy, but one simple explanation resonated with me.
If the substance is cigarettes, it is not hard to get them, and there are no consequences for smoking. If the brain is hijacked by compulsion, the only decisions one might have to make are how to get to the nearest store and to bring money. If it is heroin, however, it is harder to find, and requires multiple, multiple decision points including how to find, how to afford, how to hide from police, perhaps how to not get jumped on the street, or get pulled over, where to inject, when, how, the supplies, etc. In other words, there are so many decisions needed, it can’t just be a hijacked brain. Now, can the brain be wired to have more automatic pathways, so the decisions aren’t that many, perhaps, but not in every person every time. The author might come under fire for her philosophy from the clinicians at the front, but I do think it is worth more research for better ways forward.
The density of the book is a little off-putting, intricate details of how we make decisions, what our virtues and motivators are, but those can be skimmed easily. I hope it leads to more conversation and research.
After prolonged drug use, “a metaphorical switch in the brain” is flicked and the brain is “hijacked” by drugs….the brain disease model treats addiction as occurring when the kind of freedom of will that we normally take for granted is lost: The ordinary, voluntary behavior of a rat or a person—pressing a lever, downing a drink, swallowing a pill, injecting, inhaling or snorting a substance—becomes compulsive, transformed into a passive, involuntary symptom of a brain disease.
The brain disease model has grabbed the spotlight, claiming by far the lion’s share of funding and credibility, and putting neuroscience and animal models at the center of addiction research. Dissent is heresy. Junior scientists would be foolish to question the paradigm, while senior scientists have built their labs and legacies within it.
I shall argue that addiction is a pattern of drug use that persists despite evident and severe costs such that it counts profoundly against a person’s own good—that is, addiction is a pattern of behavior.
To identify cases of addiction, we need to think about what it means for drug use to be—or not be—good for a person (chapter 4). To explain addiction, we need to explain why a person would persist in using drugs given that doing so is not good for them. The explanations canvassed over the course of this book include the possibility of brain pathology, the development of a security-based attachment to drugs (chapter 10); self-harm and a desire to die (chapter 11); an “addict” identity (chapter 12); denial and cognitive difficulties (chapter 13); problems of control (chapter 14); and cravings for drugs (chapter 15).
There are many occasions of drug use, in addiction as much as apart from it, where absolutely nothing is done that is morally wrong. Recognizing this helps us realize what should anyway be obvious: Addiction stigma comes from us. It comes from the cultural air we breathe, which is saturated with a history of religious moralism about drugs; from the criminalization of drug possession, which forges an invidious association between drugs, deviancy, and crime; and from the intersection of our ideas about drugs and drug users with discriminatory class, race, and gender stereotypes. Demonizing drugs is the easy way out. It stops us, as individuals and as a society, from questioning, and thereby potentially changing, our own stigmatizing and stereotyping attitudes.
To use the working explication to demarcate addiction from ordinary drug use, we must determine what is good for a person. What is good for a person cannot be equated with their conception of their good. Nonetheless, their conception of their good is, in part, determinative of their good: This is why it cannot be ignored. But throughout this chapter, I have worked with suppositions and hypotheticals to present this view: I imagined that Richards was not in denial, while Joe was; I explored what to think if Maté was right about Jake, and what to think if he was wrong. You might object that this is a philosopher’s charade. In complicated real-world cases of addiction, we cannot just work with suppositions and hypotheticals. We need to know. How can we ever really determine what is truly good for a person? This kind of epistemological quandary lies at the heart of the clash of values I previously imagined between me and my counterpart, when I asked which of us is right about the values that I ought to have—me or her?
Our thinking about addiction is mired in the rescue-blame trap. Consider the opposition between the moral model and the brain disease model. The moral model invites a blaming mindset. It treats drug use in addiction as no different from ordinary drug use apart from addiction. According to the moral model, both kinds of drug use are voluntary and morally wrong. People with addiction are therefore responsible for doing something—using drugs—that is wrong. In consequence, they deserve to be blamed.
By contrast, the brain disease model invites a rescuing mindset. It aims to address stigma and foster care for people with addiction by in effect providing them with a simple, blanket excuse. Contra the moral model, the brain disease model (in its orthodox version—but see chapter 8 for an alternative) claims that drug use is not voluntary in addiction because people with addiction have a brain disease that compels them to use drugs. They can’t help it.
Thanks to NetGalley for the review copy. First, the good. I thoroughly agree with the author there needs to be another model for the disease descriptor of addiction: Loss of control, compulsion, inability to abstain, or security attachment with the drug. The bad. Anytime a book has the word philosophy in the title. It is a 45/45 split on whether it will be campy or way too serious (read boring). Very few make the final 10% of having the intellectual chops to be both stimulating and relevant. Sadly, this one falls in the serious and boring category. It doesn’t help the narrator drags. Lastly, the material presented within regarding addiction is potent and needs rigorous, national, collaborative discussions to move it into a larger framework beyond the disease model. I hope I’m not too critical of this work because it will be useful in formulating the next conversation; however, this material needs further exploration before arriving at a formal philosophical place.
Hanna Pickard zerschlägt das vertraute, aber falsche Dilemma zwischen „hirnkrank“ und „moralisch schwach“. In ihrer Analyse erscheint Sucht weder als bloßes neurologisches Schicksal noch als moralisches Versagen, sondern oft als funktionale Antwort auf Leid, Isolation oder Perspektivlosigkeit. Berühmt geworden ist in diesem Zusammenhang das Bild des „Rat Park“: Während isolierte Ratten im Labor Kokain bis zur Selbstzerstörung konsumieren, verlieren Tiere in einer stimulierenden sozialen Umgebung weitgehend das Interesse an der Droge. Die Pointe liegt auf der Hand: Das Problem ist weniger der „Charakter“ als der Käfig. Pickards Schlüsselidee lautet „Responsibility without Blame“ – Verantwortung ohne Vorwurf. Sie trennt zwei Dinge, die im Alltag meist zusammenfallen: * Verantwortung (Agency): Konsum ist eine Handlung, die einen Zweck erfüllt – etwa Schmerz zu betäuben oder Einsamkeit zu lindern. Wer handeln kann, besitzt auch die Fähigkeit zur Veränderung. * Kein Vorwurf (No Blame): Gleichzeitig verzichtet Pickard auf moralische Verurteilung. Schuldzuweisungen erzeugen Scham – und Scham führt häufig direkt zurück zum nächsten Konsum. Dieser Ansatz ermöglicht einen dritten Weg zwischen Bevormundung und moralischer Verdammung. Er verbindet klinische Praxis mit philosophischer Reflexion und rückt das soziale Umfeld ins Zentrum der Erklärung. Das Ergebnis ist ein humanistischer Blick auf Abhängigkeit: Menschen bleiben verantwortliche Akteure – doch ihr Verhalten wird vor dem Hintergrund realer Lebensbedingungen verstanden. Ein wegweisendes Buch für einen empathischen und zugleich realistischen Umgang mit Sucht.
This book was a heavy read; it took me a while to get through it, but I'm glad I did. It was very informative, very interesting. Brought to light the need for nuanced approaches regarding addiction. It made me question a lot of things and made me think a lot. The repetition and summaries of what was to come annoyed me but it's expected in a more academic book.
Thank you, Netgalley and Highbridge Audio, for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review
I've never dealt with drug or alcohol addiction personally, but there were so many things that resonated with me while reading this. I learned a lot and gained some new perspectives. and I found it very emotional.
This well written book offers a nuanced look at addiction that might help move your thinking beyond the traditional binary way of talking about addiction.