A Molecule Shrouded in Folklore
Few chemical compounds carry such persistent cultural mythology alongside such sparse empirical data as adrenochrome. It has been described alternately as non-existent and real, as an overwhelming hallucinogen and as entirely inert. Popular imagination immortalized the substance through Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which depicted it as a terrifying psychedelic causing motor paralysis and respiratory arrest. More recently, the name was seized by sensationalist conspiracy narratives detached from real biochemistry.
Amidst that cultural noise, adrenochrome is simply an oxidation metabolite of adrenaline. The variant evaluated in these self-trials was adrenochrome semicarbazone, an organic compound with modest pharmacology. It is vital to maintain this perspective: there is neither psychedelic ecstasy nor clandestine conspiracy here, merely a subjective psychonautic self-assay and tentative conclusions framed honestly by the author himself.
The Sublingual Bioassay: A Low-Key Experience
The final chronicle of the series recounts a sublingual dose administered immediately before venturing outdoors into the city. What stands out is precisely how uneventful the experience proved. Hidalgo recounts an ordinary stroll to the train station marked by disproportionate giggling, the vague impression that passersby looked “peculiar,” and a mild sheen of derealization that vanished completely over the afternoon. There were no visual revelations, none of Humphry Osmond’s famous “glass wall,” and none of Thompson’s dramatic autonomic crises.
When he met his companion, his friend noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Hidalgo acknowledges this openly: the strangest sensations occurred in isolation while walking alone before meeting his acquaintance. That divergence between internal perception and outward presentation constitutes one of the most intriguing aspects of the report, yet also the most vulnerable to subjective bias.
Parallels with 1950s Psychiatric Research
Hidalgo’s interest is historical rather than recreational. He argues that his subjective impressions mirror the observations of mid-20th-century psychiatry, when adrenochrome was studied under the “adrenochrome hypothesis” of schizophrenia. The points of convergence he highlights include:
- Abraham Hoffer and Humphry Osmond noted that changes occurred primarily in cognition and mood, while sensory distortions remained subtle and faint, in sharp contrast to the rich visual tapestries typical of LSD.
- Clinical observations from that period—including work cited by Stanislav Grof—reported cognitive shifts resembling traits observed in schizophrenia.
- Somatic side effects were minor and fleeting, with total duration varying considerably across different individuals and between repeated doses in the same subject.
Hidalgo also cites ethnomycologist Giorgio Samorini, who considered it plausible that the metabolic chain from adrenaline to adrenochrome and adrenolutin possesses genuine psychoactive activity, alongside historical notes on the use of adrenal kidney fat by certain Australian Indigenous groups. In balance, he candidly cites an Erowid trip report titled Killing the myth, whose author concluded that smoking a basic joint produced far more noticeable effects than adrenochrome.
Psychedelic or Psychotomimetic?
Hidalgo’s core conclusion is terminological. If any subjective alteration occurred, it did not fit the archetype of a “psychedelic”—sensory expansion, visual richness, mystical insight—but rather that of a “psychotomimetic”: a state faintly mirroring certain aspects of psychosis. Transient derealization, mild paranoid ideation, unwarranted levity, and subjective stimulation represented, in his analysis, a subtle echo of that territory, never a full clinical crisis.
Hence his final verdict: as a recreational intoxicant, adrenochrome is completely useless; as a historical clue into the neurobiology of psychosis, it perhaps warrants revisiting by modern neuroscience. It remains an old hypothesis largely dismissed by mainstream psychiatry, which he revives as an open inquiry rather than a definitive answer.
Critical Reading
Hidalgo’s account represents honest experiential writing, which should be appreciated as subjective narrative rather than clinical evidence. Several methodological limitations prevent drawing firm conclusions:
- A single subject without controls. This was an uncontrolled self-trial lacking a comparison group, blinded placebo, or objective psychometric metrics. Expectation and context heavily color subtle subjective states, and the author admits his peers saw him as completely normal.
- Confounding pharmacological variables. The trials involved concurrent intake of alcohol and benzodiazepines, on top of an extensive history of poly-drug use. As his colleagues noted, combining substances invalidates attributing specific sensations to adrenochrome alone. The mixture of alcohol and benzodiazepines markedly depresses the central nervous system and carries serious health hazards.
- The historical hypothesis was superseded. The adrenochrome hypothesis of schizophrenia enjoyed brief prominence in the 1950s before failing to hold up as a comprehensive explanatory model. Finding subjective parallels with historical papers does not validate the chemical theory.
- Harm reduction reminder. This publication provides no guidance on obtaining, synthesizing, or administering psychoactive substances. Ingesting poorly characterized compounds, particularly in poly-substance combinations, contradicts fundamental harm reduction principles.
What remains is a legitimate neuroscientific question: do oxidation metabolites of adrenaline display genuine central nervous activity? Hidalgo closes his personal case and leaves the question to future laboratory researchers. For our readership, the value lies not in a sensational verdict, but in the analytical distance with which it is evaluated.
