The global renaissance of psychedelics is restoring once-taboo substances to scientific and cultural respectability. Yet as the world rediscovers their promise, it risks extinguishing the very species that make them possible. A new review by Anna Ermakova and Sam Gandy highlights an uncomfortable paradox: the search for psychological transformation is driving ecological decline.
From the deserts of Texas to the forests of Gabon, organisms long used in Indigenous rituals are under pressure. Peyote, the slow-growing cactus sacred to Native American ceremonies, takes a decade or more to mature. The ayahuasca vine, revered in Amazonian cosmologies as the “vine of the soul,” is being stripped from forests to supply a booming wellness trade. Iboga, central to West Africa’s Bwiti spiritual tradition, is being uprooted to meet demand for its anti-addiction alkaloid. Even the Sonoran Desert toad, whose skin secretes the potent hallucinogen 5-MeO-DMT, is captured and “milked” for its secretions—often fatally.
Each species sits at the intersection of ecology, spirituality, and commerce. All are threatened by familiar forces—habitat loss, climate change, and overharvesting—yet scientific understanding of their population dynamics is remarkably thin. “Despite their cultural and pharmacological importance,” the authors write, “all four species face similar knowledge gaps limiting evidence-based conservation.” Without reliable data on reproduction or recovery, policymakers and practitioners alike are flying blind.
Ermakova and Gandy call for a “biocultural” approach to conservation that treats these organisms not merely as chemical resources but as living components of complex social-ecological systems. Indigenous communities, whose stewardship has safeguarded them for generations, must be central to any plan. For many such groups, the loss is not only biological but spiritual—the severing of a relationship sustained through ritual, reciprocity, and respect.
Gandy sees in the current crisis a deeper contradiction. “Psychedelics are often said to foster a sense of connectedness to nature,” he notes, “yet many people seeking that connection are unwittingly contributing to ecological harm.” The modern market for transcendence, from luxury retreats to online dispensaries, depends on fragile species that cannot easily recover from industrial-scale exploitation.
Not all psychedelics exact the same ecological toll. Gandy points to psilocybin-producing fungi as an alternative with built-in sustainability. “The cultivation of psilocybin mushrooms is inherently sustainable,” he explains. “They grow at a much greater speed than the species discussed in the paper—harvestable in months rather than years. They can be grown indoors or outdoors with an extremely low environmental footprint.” Psilocybe mycelium can even degrade certain pollutants, adding a restorative twist to its role in human transformation.
These fungi also represent Europe’s Indigenous psychedelic heritage, removing the need for long-haul flights to faraway ceremonies. Psilocybin—the compound at the center of the modern research revival—is the best-evidenced psychedelic for treating depression, anxiety, and addiction. Cultivating the mushrooms from spores allows for both self-sufficiency and a closer, more respectful relationship with the organism itself. In ecological terms, they offer a model of psychedelic practice that is renewable, local, and low-impact.
Synthetic chemistry may provide another safety valve. Laboratory production of ibogaine, mescaline, and 5-MeO-DMT could lessen dependence on wild species, while genetic engineering promises microbial synthesis of these compounds. Yet technology cannot resolve the ethical question at the heart of this trade. The authors argue that conservation must be guided by reciprocity and respect, not only regulation. “Effective strategies must integrate ecological protection with cultural integrity,” they write. “Otherwise, conservation risks repeating the same extractive logic it seeks to prevent.”
The broader task, Gandy says, is to align “expanded consciousness with ecological consciousness.” Psychedelics may indeed heighten one’s sense of interconnection with nature—but that awareness must translate into responsibility. The psychedelic movement’s credibility will ultimately depend on whether its pursuit of healing nurtures or harms the living world that gave rise to it.
The modern psychedelic renaissance has revived interest in substances that reveal hidden connections between self and nature. Ironically, that very quest for unity now threatens the species that make it possible. Unless reverence is matched by restraint, the next frontier of consciousness may arrive only after its natural teachers are gone.
Citation: Anna O. Ermakova and Sam Gandy. Of shrub, cactus, vine and toad: psychedelic species of conservation concern. Frontiers in Conservation Science. Volume 6 (2025). https://doi.org/10.3389/fcosc.2025.1569528
