From Singapore: The most ambitious claim in psychedelic science right now is not about treating depression. It is about making contact with another form of intelligence. This month, a facility called Eleusis opened on Bequia, a small island in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines in the Caribbean, with a proposition that sits somewhere between neuroscience and science fiction: use extended, intravenous doses of DMT to establish sustained two-way communication with the nonhuman entities that users consistently report encountering while on the drug.
The man behind the scientific programme is Dr Andrew Gallimore, a computational neurobiologist who developed the DMTx protocol alongside Dr Rick Strassman. At the centre of the experience is DMTx, a protocol developed by Gallimore with Strassman. Unlike traditional DMT experiences, which are famously brief and overwhelming, DMTx uses controlled IV infusion to maintain a stable, extended state. Gallimore calls the project a "SETI for the mind", referring to the Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence.
The facility is named after an ancient Greek city that once attracted spiritual pilgrims for the ritual consumption of what some experts believe was a psychedelic potion. Eleusis officially debuted in March 2026 on the island of Bequia in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. The research wing is overseen by Noonautics, a nonprofit headed by Gallimore, while the therapeutic side is managed by Charles Patti and Christina Thomas, a couple who also co-own a ketamine clinic in Florida.
The entity question is not as fringe as it might sound. Ineffability is a hallmark of the psychedelic experience, and that is especially true of the alien beings that DMT users often report meeting. One study found such perceived encounters occur in around 94 per cent of DMT trips. DMT-occasioned entity encounter experiences have many similarities to non-drug entity encounter experiences such as those described in religious, alien abduction, and near-death contexts. The recurring, cross-cultural consistency of these reports is what has drawn serious researchers to the question.
Gallimore envisions a multidisciplinary approach: sending mathematicians, linguists, and specialists from other fields into the DMT state to study the so-called entities firsthand. His counterargument to sceptics is that DMT entities are so radically unlike anything humans could conceivably have encountered in their waking lives that they cannot be dismissed as manifestations of unconscious archetypes. On the research team alongside him is Dr Chris Timmermann of University College London, one of the world's leading DMT phenomenology researchers.
The commercial structure of Eleusis deserves scrutiny. The experience starts with a four-day package costing US$9,500, including two DMTx sessions, lodging, and food. The full six-day immersion covers comprehensive medical and psychiatric screening, biometric tracking, a personalised integration guide, three DMTx experiences, daily yoga and meditation, luxury accommodation in private villas, and four weeks of post-retreat integration calls. That is a price point that places consciousness exploration firmly in the domain of the wealthy. DMTx sessions will be available to Eleusis guests, with the resort expecting to host 30 participants this month, under the supervision of medical experts.
There are legitimate counterarguments worth taking seriously. Gallimore's ambition to study these entities and to determine whether they exist independently of the human mind raises some thorny methodological questions. Consciousness is a notoriously slippery phenomenon to observe and measure scientifically, and as the rise of AI chatbots has made troublingly clear, humans can all too easily mistake what looks like intelligence for subjective, conscious awareness. Researchers in the broader psychedelic science community have cautioned that the absence of a validated framework for measuring independent consciousness makes any claim of genuine entity contact premature, at best.
Advocates of this research direction would respond that the absence of a framework is precisely the reason such work is necessary. Mainstream neuroscience does not yet have a satisfying account of consciousness itself, and if DMT reliably produces encounters with structured, communicative, seemingly autonomous beings in nearly all users, that data point alone warrants investigation. While the therapeutic potential of DMT has not been as rigorously studied as that of some other psychedelics, it has shown promise for the treatment of alcohol use disorder and major depressive disorder. For many researchers, the entity question and the therapeutic question may ultimately be linked.
DMT is currently a Schedule 1 drug in the United States, the federal government's most tightly controlled category, but it can be administered legally in Bequia by licensed care providers. That regulatory gap is what makes this kind of facility possible at all. Academic research remains cautious. Underground culture remains experimental. And now a small number of projects are exploring what happens when legality, medical oversight, and serious resources intersect with some of the most powerful compounds known to humans.
What Eleusis represents is a genuine fork in the road for psychedelic science. The responsible path involves robust peer-reviewed protocols, independent oversight, and honest acknowledgment of what is not yet known. The Therapeutic Goods Administration in Australia has been cautiously expanding access to psychedelic-assisted therapy since 2023, focusing firmly on measurable clinical outcomes rather than metaphysical exploration. That is a sensible line to draw. The more speculative work happening on Bequia may, over time, produce genuinely useful data about consciousness. Or it may prove to be an expensive mirror. Either way, it deserves to be watched carefully rather than dismissed out of hand.