Tag Archives: William White

09/8/20

Growing Pains with Narcotics Anonymous

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Narcotics Anonymous (NA) rose up from the fragments of an earlier fellowship of the same name that had stopped holding meetings in the fall of 1959. The earlier NA, organized in 1953, struggled and ultimately could not overcome issues stemming from internal dysfunction and personality conflicts. In “Narcotics Anonymous: Its History and Culture,” William White, Chris Budnick and Boyd Pickard said that “NA as we know it today” learned lessons from the dangers of relying on a single dominant leader like Cy M., and of abandoning adherence to the Traditions of NA. They also needed to develop a distinctive culture for it fellowship, one that helped articulate the implications of inserting “our addiction” in the First Step instead of “alcohol.”

One of the first things Jimmy K., Sylvia W., and Penny K. did after rekindling NA meetings at Moorpark in late 1959 was to write new NA-based literature. Who Is an Addict?, What Can I Do?, What Is the NA Program?, Why Are We Here?, and Recovery and Relapse were all written in 1960. We Do Recover was added in 1961. These writings were gathered into a publication also published in 1962 called the Little White Booklet. Personal stories were added in 1966 and the White Booklet served as the center piece of NA literature until the Basic Text, Narcotics Anonymous, was published in 1983. See the NA World Services Recovery Literature page for copies of these and other pamphlets and booklets.

In 1972, NA Trustees looked at the idea of publishing a book similar to AA’s Big Book, but the plan did not get off the ground. It was not until 1977 when Bo S. began to pursue work on the Basic Text with the support of Jimmy K. that the idea became something more than just a thought. “The book was written between 1979 and 1982 over seven World Literature Conferences that involved over 400 recovering addicts in NA. NA’s Basic Text was approved in 1982 and officially released in 1983.”

Following the publication of the Basic Text, NA focused much of its publication efforts on It Works – How and Why, a collection of essays on the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. Just for Today, a book of daily meditations, followed closely afterwards. Further efforts included a workbook on the Steps titled The Step Working Guide and a collection of sponsorship experiences simply called Sponsorship.

The Basic Text was the first substantial piece of literature created by addicts for addicts, and White, Budnick and Pickard said it marked the beginnings of NA’s own language and culture. NA growth had been progressing before the publication of the Basic Text, but after the release of the Basic Text, NA grew exponentially. There were five meetings by 1964, then 38 meetings in 1971, which grew to 3,382 meetings in 1983. This grew to 10,147 NA meetings by 1988, 16,575 by 1993 and 30,886 by 2003. In 2020, there are an estimated 71,000 NA meetings worldwide. See the following chart taken from “We Do Recover: Scientific Studies on Narcotic Anonymous.”

The presence of NA meetings in other countries also grew rapidly after the publication of the Basic Text. By 1968, there was a second country with NA meetings. In 1972, a third country was added and by 1983, there were 12 countries globally with NA meetings. By 1993 there were 60; by 2003, 106; by 2013, 129. There are an estimated 144 countries with NA meetings by 2020. NA literature is now available in 39 languages, with translations into 16 additional languages in process. In 2009, there were more NA meetings being held outside the US than in the US. See the following chart taken from “We Do Recover: Scientific Studies on Narcotic Anonymous.”Throughout much of its history, NA was in the shadow of its more well-known parent, AA. NA as we know it today, was founded by “bridge members” of AA (with dual addictions to alcohol and drugs). Its Steps and Traditions were drawn from those found in AA. Meeting formats, use of the Serenity Prayer and the Lord’s Prayer were copied from AA. But in the mid-1980s a large consensus emerged within the program that “challenged NA to step away from AA’s shadow and distinguish itself as a distinct recovery fellowship.” A 1985 communication from NA Trustees entitled, “Some Thoughts on Our Relationship with AA” acknowledged NA’s gratitude to AA. But it also noted its departure from AA in the language of NA’s First Step and then further elaborated on this divergence:

We are powerless over a disease that gets progressively worse when we use any drug. It does not matter what drug was at the center for us when we got here. Any drug use will release our disease all over again… Our steps are uniquely worded to carry this message clearly, so the rest of our language of recovery must be consistent with those steps. Ironically, we cannot mix these fundamental principles with those of our parent fellowship without crippling our own message.

The consensus begun in the 1980s has continued to grow and with it, the use of NA-specific language such as: addiction, self-identification as an addict, clean, and recovery from the disease of addiction. Meeting etiquette, terms and rituals are described in the NA pamphlet An Introduction to NA Meetings. There is an emphasis on solution-focused rather than problem-focused statements. Attention is placed on sustained NA service activity. And most importantly, there are NA members in long-term recovery who stay active in NA rather than disengaging or changing to another fellowship.

In “We Do Recover,” White and others said active drug users typically had a positive view of NA and sought help from NA through a variety of sources including an NA member (49%), referral by a treatment agency (45%) and encouragement from family members (32%). There was a strong association between NA participation and reduced drug use and increased rates of abstinence. The 2018 survey NA members reported an average of 11.4 years of continuous abstinence, with 85% reporting five or more years of stable recovery. But some friction has arisen with NA, and within NA regarding its stand on maintenance medications.

Attitudes and policies of NA towards the use of maintenance medications such as methadone, buprenorphine and naltrexone have been a source of tension within the NA fellowship and within the addiction treatment field, where medication-assisted treatment (MAT) is widely considered to be the gold standard treatment approach for opioid use disorder. Table 9 in “We Do Recover” summarized conclusions from various research studies of NA participation among individuals in medication-assisted treatment (MAT). Overall, they suggested NA involvement could be of potential benefit to people during MAT and as a source of post-MAT recovery support. But there are conclusions of a couple studies to take note of here.

Parran et al in “Long-term outcomes of office-based buprenorphine/naloxone maintenance therapy” conducted an 18-48 month follow-up study of opioid-dependent individuals and found that those who were still on buprenorphine/naloxone (bup/nx) at follow-up (85 of 110, 77%) were more likely to report abstinence from opioids and improvement on many quality of life measures. The major reason for discontinuing bup/nx maintenance was repeated evidence of substance use or the “failure to fully adhere with the abstinence based 12-step treatment.” White and others said the primary reason individuals discontinued medication maintenance in the study was the perceived incompatibility between MAT and 12-Step philosophy. But it seems to me another way of understanding why some individuals discontinued MAT was because they found themselves unable to maintain abstinence on MAT. Paran et al said: “Thus improved psychosocial functioning in bup/nx maintained patients was likely due to their marked decreased rate of substance use and not solely due to the bup/nx.”

There certainly is an incompatibility between MAT and NA 12-Step philosophy, but it was not clear if Paran et al tracked NA participation distinct from other 12-Step groups (which includes Methadone Anonymous, established in 1991), as they identified the 12 Step outcome variable as: “AA affiliated.” It was also not clear to me from their discussion if the researchers were even aware of how their blending of all 12 Step attendance into “AA affiliated” failed to distinguish this important nuance.

Monaco et al studied the effects of 12-Step participation on individuals treated for opioid dependence with buprenorphine in “Buprenorphine treatment and 12-step meeting attendance.” They found that despite the potential for philosophical conflicts between 12-Step groups and buprenorphine maintenance treatment (BMT), greater 12-step meeting attendance was associated with superior abstinence outcomes. In the six months after starting treatment, only 14% reported attending 5 or less NA meetings over the previous six months. However, only 33% reported disclosing their BMT status to an NA member. Of the participants who did disclose their BMT status, 26% reported that someone at NA encouraged them to stop taking buprenorphine or decrease their dose.

Qualitative data through semi-structured interviews of participants in the study indicated they were told by some in NA that the use of buprenorphine was a “crutch”; taking buprenorphine meant they weren’t “clean.” The typical view was that genuine clean time cannot be accumulated if you are taking buprenorphine, even if you are otherwise abstaining from all illicit drugs. Monaco et al said this presents a significant barrier for buprenorphine patients who find they benefit from both NA and BMT. But this conclusion failed to consider the historical context within which NA came into being. See “The Birth and Near-Death of Narcotics Anonymous” for more information on the origins of NA.

While this view may be a barrier, Monaco and others failed to acknowledge how buprenorphine has a dependency potential. It is not a neutral substance when it comes to how NA has historically unpacked “our addiction” in its First Step and described “the disease of addiction” in its literature. This means that NA is being implicitly asked to fundamentally blur how it defines being “clean” and confuse what it means by recovery from the disease of addiction. Pointing to the barriers MAT individuals encounter when they attend 12-Step groups and lamenting how they are stigmatized when told they aren’t “clean” (if they continue to use a MAT drug) seems to miss the point. The reality of buprenorphine and methadone as Scheduled substances with a defined abuse or dependency potential has to be acknowledged and addressed, but in most cases is ignored.

However, until that time, there are a couple of strategies identified by Monaco et al that can be used by BMT individuals who find value in attending NA meetings. The first one is to draw a clear, strong distinction between the use of buprenorphine and the abuse of other drugs. “This distinction is primarily based on two properties that separate BMT with substance abuse: 1) understanding buprenorphine medicinally, and 2) specifying the process of taking and acquiring buprenorphine through legitimate (and legal) channels.” Another strategy is to seek out 12-Step groups receptive to MAT, where there are others who take buprenorphine. This provides strength as a collective of similar others. “Despite the potential for philosophical conflicts between 12-step groups and BMT, greater 12-step meeting attendance during the first 6 months of treatment does not precipitate early treatment discontinuation and is associated with superior abstinence outcomes.”

The global expansion of NA has roughly paralleled the rise of the opioid epidemic and the addition of buprenorphine to the MAT arsenal in 2003. These three intertwined circumstances have intensified the debate over medication assisted treatment and recovery and seems to have immobilized our ability to move beyond the debate. Using rhetoric like “crutch” when referring to MAT users or saying the NA member who thinks someone who uses such language is “stigmatizing” perpetuates the polemic split of like-minded individuals into sides of medication haters and medication advocates. Even this distinction has a subtle categorization of individuals into the negative connotation of “haters” and the more sympathetic “advocates.”

William White, one of the coauthors of “Narcotics Anonymous: Its History and Culture” and “We Do Recover,” has tried for a long time to get a dialogue going between the pro-MAT and the anti-MAT groups. In an attempt to create that bridge, he wrote “From Bias to Balance: Further Reflections on Addiction Treatment Medications.” His advice there needs to be heard and acted on: “The key is our ability to objectively portray the potential value and risks of ALL treatment and recovery support options so that affected persons can make informed choices.” He called for rigorous, sustained personal, scientific and clinical investigation. “It also means that any initial distrust of medications from members of recovery communities should be respected by recovery advocates as grounded in the experiential knowledge of those communities.”

I think first there should be an acknowledgement of the value of buprenorphine as a treatment for opioid use disorder. There should be an investigation of its risks in MAT that begins by viewing buprenorphine through the lens of drug-centered action, as articulated by Joanna Moncrieff. Serious, sustained clinical investigation of the possibility of medically supported tapering for buprenorphine needs to be investigated. See the following articles for further interaction with William White’s “From Bias to Balance” and the application of Joanna Moncrieff’s thoughts to buprenorphine assisted recovery: “The Complexities and Limitations of Buprenorphine, Part 1” and “The Complexities and Limitations of Buprenorphine, Part 2.”

09/1/20

The Birth and Near-Death of Narcotics Anonymous

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In “We Do Recover” William White and others reported that in the beginning of 2020, there are 71,000 weekly Narcotics Anonymous (NA) meetings in 144 countries. The number of NA meetings worldwide has more than doubled in the past 15 years. Unlike Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) for alcoholics, it was not the first self-help group for addicts. The current NA was not even the first self-help group for addicts called Narcotics Anonymous. And there was even a brief time in the fall of 1959 when NA as we know it today stopped having meetings.

In “Narcotics Anonymous: Its History and Culture,” William White, Chris Budnick and Boyd Pickard said the history of the birth and near-death of NA is best understood within the cultural context of the 1950s. They said this was a time when the idea of “good” drugs like alcohol, tobacco and caffeine, and “bad” drugs like heroin and cannabis, became “fully crystallized.” There was a post-World War poly-drug epidemic in the hip youth culture surrounding jazz musicians and some well-known entertainers. Then during the late 1940s cocaine use became more widespread. “As one observer pointed out, heroin use spread from street corner to street corner very much like an infectious disease epidemic.”

Social panic triggered harsh new anti-drug laws. Known addicts were arrested for “internal possession” and prohibited from associating via “loitering addict” laws. Any gathering of recovering addicts for mutual support was subjected to regular police surveillance. Mid -century treatments for addiction included electroconvulsive therapy (“shock treatment”), psychosurgery (prefrontal lobotomies), and prolonged institutionalization. This is the inhospitable soil in which NA grew.

The mid-thirties birthed AA and the opening of the first federal “Narcotics Farm” (prison hospital) in Lexington, Kentucky. Houston S., who found permanent sobriety within AA in June of 1944, became interested in helping AA members with dual problems with alcohol and drugs. When his company transferred him to Frankfort Kentucky, which is just 29 miles from the Narcotic Farm, he called upon the medical director of the hospital and proposed starting a group similar to AA for addicts. The first meeting was held on February 16, 1947 and the members christened themselves Addicts Anonymous. By 1950, Addicts Anonymous had 200 members at the hospital.

Danny C. finally achieved sustained recovery on his eighth admission to the Lexington facility in 1949. Following his discharge, he started an Addicts Anonymous group in New York City. “He called the new group Narcotics Anonymous (NA) to avoid the potential confusion of two AAs.” New York NA and the Lexington-based Addicts Anonymous received considerable publicity in prominent newspapers like the New York Times and magazines like the Saturday Evening Post, Time and Down Beat Magazine. The NA created by Danny C. and others did not exist as an organized fellowship, rather they were isolated groups connected by a common service structure. Some groups even chose names other than Narcotics Anonymous. The NA groups formed under the original leadership of Danny C. dissipated by the early 1970s in the wake of harsh new anti-drug laws and the death of Rae L., who led New York NA after Danny’ C.’s death in 1956.

Betty T., a nurse who had left treatment at the Narcotics Farm in 1950, started to correspond with Houston S., Danny C. and Bill W. about starting a support group for “pure addicts,” but did not think she was the one to do it. Among her reservations with New York NA was their failure to adhere to the Twelve Traditions, particularly Tradition Eleven on anonymity, and their minimization of the problems posed by alcohol: In a letter to Bill W. she said: “They do not stress the danger of alcohol as a substitute for drugs!” She did host a special closed meeting in her home that was called “Habit Forming Drugs” for AA members who were recovering from other drugs.

Tension around the issues of addicts attending AA meetings eventually led to the Habit Forming Drugs group being removed from the AA world directory. Bill W. was in correspondence with several people besides Betty T. who were trying to start a support group for “straight addicts.” He eventually wrote an article for the February 1958 issue of the Grapevine, “Problems Other Than Alcohol: What Can We Do About Them?” White, Budnick and Pickard said by clarifying the boundaries AA’s primary purpose, it set the stage for the development of a distinct NA fellowship. When he was repeatedly asked for guidance in starting groups for “mainline addicts,” Bill suggested that “bridge members” (AA members who were recovering from drug addiction) could serve as catalysts for such a group.

And that is what happened. In the middle of June in 1953, there was an NA meeting at the Unity Church on Moorpark Street in Van Nuys, CA. One of the AA members attending was Jimmy K., who is widely considered to be the founder of NA as it exists today. Jimmy K. introduced himself as an “alcoholic addict” from the time he began attending AA in 1950. He attended early meetings of Habit Forming Drugs and communicated with Danny C. in New York. Then on August 17, 1953, Jimmy K. and five others held an organizational meeting and formally organized Narcotics Anonymous, stating in its bylaws that any group could use the NA name as long as they followed the 12 steps and 12 traditions of Narcotics Anonymous. The NA bylaws, approved on August 17, 1953, included the following Purpose statement:

This is an informal group of drug addicts, banded together to help one another renew their strength in remaining free of drug addiction.Our precepts are patterned after those of Alcoholics Anonymous, to which all credit is given and precedence is acknowledged. We claim no originality but since we believe that the causes of alcoholism and addiction are basically the same we wish to apply to our lives the truths and principles which have benefited so many otherwise helpless individuals. We believe that by so doing we may regain and maintain our health and sanity. It shall be the purpose of this group to endeavor to foster a means of rehabilitation for the addict, and to carry a message of hope for the future to those who have become enslaved by the use of habit forming drugs.

There were significant differences between the New York and California NA groups. New York NA had more morphine or heroin addicts and it had minimal concern about alcohol. Despite being in New York, it also had little contact with AA. The California founders of NA had histories of alcohol and other drug addictions, prior affiliations with AA and emphasized strict adherence to the Steps and Traditions adapted from AA. “When NA groups veered from those principles, those so-called ‘bridge members’ left NA and returned to AA.”

There was considerable debate over how to phrase the NA Steps. Jimmy K. was able to prevail in getting the phrase “our addiction” inserted in the First Step rather than alternatives like alcohol and drugs, drugs, or narcotic drugs. NA Trustees would later look upon this wording as a masterful stroke: “The one thing we share is the disease of addiction. . . With that single turn of a phrase the foundation of Narcotics Anonymous Fellowship was laid.” Instead of centering their institutional identity on a single drug, as AA did, New York AA and other 12 Step groups that followed, NA focused attention on the shared process of addiction.

This had three significant effects. First, it resolved the frequent issue of drug substitution by embracing the renunciation of all drugs, including alcohol, within recovery. Second, it opened the potential for people to enter NA with drug choices other than opiates. Opiates were the primary dug of choice by New York-based NA, and the early members of California NA. Third, it specifically defined addiction as a disease, and the addict as a sick person.

White, Budnick and Pickard said NA’s definition of the problem as a process of “addiction” that required a common recovery process and transcended your drug of choice may be one of the great conceptual breakthroughs in the understanding and management of alcohol and other drug problems. This was all the more amazing as it came at a time when substance-specific disorders were all thought of as distinct from each other. It also anticipated future scientific findings that “addiction to multiple drugs is linked to common reward pathways in the brain.” Jimmy K. made a remarkable conceptual leap that deserves wider recognition today within the scientific and treatment communities. As it was expressed by an early NA member: “It really doesn’t matter whether you’re strung out smoking reefer every day or you’re shooting a couple thousand bucks of heroin a week. It’s about addiction—drug addiction.”

The contemporary emergence of “addiction” and “recovery” as conceptual frameworks for the professional field of addiction treatment and as frameworks for the larger cultural understanding of severe alcohol and other drug problems and their resolution is historically rooted in NA’s formulation of its Twelve Steps in 1954. However, this breakthrough did not assure NA’s survival as an organization.

Between 1953 and 1958, the young California NA group faced severe problems from internal dysfunction and personality conflicts. Jimmy K. later said: “So, the very first meeting, it wound up, oh God, it was a riot. Everybody was fighting with each other. Within two weeks, we only had one or two people left of the original group.” By 1959, the only NA meeting was at the North Hollywood Inebriate Asylum, known as Shier’s Dryer. A critical turning point was reached when Cy M. and another member, who was suspected of being loaded, appeared on a television show in the fall of 1959. As a consequence of the discord that resulted, NA meetings stopped for a time.

Jimmy K., Sylvia W., and Penny K. met in late 1959 and sought to see if they could rekindle NA. There were no existing members, no money in the treasury and no literature. NA was reborn when they started the Architects of Adversity Group at Moorpark, later known in NA as the “Mother Group.” One of early NA’s long-term members said every time he’d come back to the group after another time of using, “Jimmy always seemed to be the one who was standing there with the door open saying, ‘Come on in and have a cup of coffee.’”

NA learned painful lessons through its near-death experience, including the dangers of relying on a single, dominant leader, the risks of abandoning adherence to NA Traditions, and the need for a distinctive NA culture. NA was reborn in late 1959 with those lessons in mind. NA’s near-death experience cleaved its history into “before” and “after,” with the phrase “NA as we know it today” used to denote the new NA that rose in 1959 from the ashes of the old. As earlier members returned and new members joined, NA began its slow growth into the present.

For more information on the history of Narcotics Anonymous, see “Growing Pains with Narcotics Anonymous.”

06/30/20

The Complexities and Limitations of Buprenorphine, Part 2

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William White wrote “From Bias to Balance: Further Reflections on Addiction Treatment Medications” in an attempt to open a dialogue between the polarized sides of using opioid medications like buprenorphine to treat opioid addiction. In Part one of this article I expressed my belief that the impasse between the two sides is largely for philosophical, not scientific reasons. Medication advocates presume what Joanna Moncrieff calls a disease-centered model of drug action that leads to the belief and portrayal of certain medications as a panacea for opioid use disorders, something that the so-called medication haters soundly reject. I suggested that beginning instead with what Moncrieff calls a drug-centered model would allow for a more productive dialogue on the complexity and limitations of using buprenorphine to treat opioid use disorder.

In “Rethinking Models of Psychotropic Drug Action,” Joanna Moncreiff described the distinctions between two different types of drug action, the disease-centered model and the drug-centered model. She added that theoretical assumptions about how psychotropic drugs work are rarely discussed explicitly. The disease-centered model underlies orthodox psychopharmacology. It assumes that a psychotropic drug like buprenorphine helps correct a biochemical abnormality. In other words, medications are understood to work by acting on a disease process.

This notion, sometimes called the ‘chemical imbalance’ theory, is the explicitly stated view of SAMHSA, which says MAT medications (like buprenorphine) “relieve the withdrawal symptoms and psychological cravings that cause chemical imbalances in the body.” But in a ‘drug-centered model’ the distinctive physiological, behavioral and subjective effects of drugs are used to define drug action. “The therapeutic value of a drug stems from the usefulness of these effects in clinical situations.”

In this approach, drugs are seen to induce characteristic physiological and subjective states that may, or may not, be experienced as useful in certain social and interpersonal situations, including clinical situations. Unlike the disease-centred model that assumes that drugs move an abnormal physiological state towards a more normal one, the drug-centred model suggests that drugs create their own characteristic abnormal states or alterations of normal states. It is these states or effects that need to be described and understood, and the potential therapeutic value of a drug is deduced from this understanding. It is therefore implied that diagnosed patients and normal volunteers’ basic physiological responses to drugs will differ only in so far as a degree of individual variation in drug response (including variation in arousal, set, biological sensitivity) always exists.

Consistent with what Moncrieff said here regarding the drug-centered model, in “From Bias to Balance,” William White said the potential risks and benefits of medication support when treating opioid addiction are not uniform. He thought recovery advocates needed to have a general knowledge of the evolving science and the clinical experience with regard to the overall benefits and risks associated when medications like buprenorphine are used in medication-assisted treatment—what the side effects are, when and for whom it is indicated and contraindicated. “The question of potential degree of help or harm of medications in the treatment of addiction is unanswerable without also asking, ‘For whom?”’ ‘For what purpose?’, ‘For how long?’, and ‘At what cost?’.” White said that despite knowing that people recover from opioid addiction with and without medication support, the addiction treatment field still has not clinically defined who would benefit most from pharmacotherapy and for whom it would be contraindicated. He thought answering that question would be a major step forward.

The potential differences between those who achieve stable recovery (five years plus of opioid abstinence) from opioid use disorder through pharmacotherapy and those who achieve stable recovery without medication support are unclear. Nearly 40% of Narcotics Anonymous (NA) members report regular use of narcotics and an average of 8.2 years of continuous recovery. This would seem to challenge the bleak prospects of recovery from opioid addiction without medication support that dominates the professional literature and popular media. “Yet such recoveries from opioid use disorders within NA remain a rare focus of scientific study.”

There is also no consensus on the optimal duration of medication-assisted support in the treatment of opioid use disorder. SAMHSA said the length of time should be tailored to each patient and could be indefinite. In SAMHSA’s TIP 63, the section “Duration of Buprenorphine Treatment,” stated there was no known duration of buprenorphine therapy where patients could be certain they would not return to illicit opioid use. “Patients should take buprenorphine as long as they benefit from it and wish to continue.” ASAM, the American Society of Addiction Medicine, echoed SAMHSA’s indefiniteness, giving the following advice in their “National Practice Guideline” for the length of treatment with buprenorphine when treating opioid use.

There is no recommended time limit for treatment with buprenorphine. Buprenorphine taper and discontinuation is a slow process and close monitoring is recommended. Buprenorphine tapering is generally accomplished over several months. Patients and clinicians should not take the decision to terminate treatment with buprenorphine lightly.

Consistent with this reluctance to define or investigate a time limit for treatment with buprenorphine, William White said there has been inadequate attention to the process of tapering when clients choose to maintain their recovery without medication. The statistics reported in the research literature on those who attempt buprenorphine treatment are not promising. Meinhofer et al reported that over one-half (55%) of individuals discontinued buprenorphine within about six months and 13% experienced at least one adverse opioid-related event within 360 days of starting with buprenorphine. Hser et al reported that only 46% of buprenorphine participants completed 24 weeks of treatment; 24.8% dropped out within the first 30 days.

White stated the reality is that many patients who begin MAT for opioid addiction stop taking the medications within a matter of months. He cited a study of adolescents and young adults, “Receipt of Timely Addiction Treatment,” that found the median retention of those who did use buprenorphine was less than six months. Could it be that the intent to limit the risk of overdose mortality by leaving the time limit for MAT with buprenorphine open-ended has led to a perceived “Hotel California” effect in buprenorphine treatment? You can check in anytime you want, but you’ll find you can never leave. Open-ended treatment protocols like the SAMHSA and ASAM recommendations for buprenorphine leads abstinence-based recovery advocates and some addicts to conclude the goal is to keep patients “parked” on medication forever.

One factor influencing the open-ended recommendations for MAT is the high risk of overdose mortality when an opioid addict resumes active use. In the four weeks following the cessation of medication maintenance, death rates as high as four times that of patients who remain in treatment have been reported, due to the lost tolerance from their abstinence. This parallels the risk of overdose mortality after the release from a prison, hospital or inpatient/residential addiction treatment program.

One of White’s suggested action steps was to expand supports available for patients during and after medication tapering. According to ASAM, factors associated with the successful termination of treatment with buprenorphine are not well described, but may include the following:

  1. Employment, engagement in mutual help programs, or involvement in other meaningful activities.
  2. Sustained abstinence from opioid and other drugs during treatment.
  3. Positive changes in the psychosocial environment.
  4. Evidence of additional psychosocial supports.
  5. Persistent engagement in treatment for ongoing monitoring past the point of medication discontinuation. Patients who relapse after treatment has been terminated should be returned to treatment with buprenorphine.

White said long-term follow-up studies of people with opioid use disorders find that between a third and half of those who achieve stable recovery have far less problem severity and complexity and have great recovery capital (e.g., education, employment, family and social support).

The overwhelming majority of addiction medication providers assert the value of psychosocial interventions as a critical component of addiction treatment, but little more than a third report that their organizations and local communities have the resources to provide such interventions for patients using medication to support recovery from an opioid disorder.

A final complexity and limitation with buprenorphine as an opioid medication is that buprenorphine is itself an opioid. Given Moncrieff’s drug-centered model of medication action, this reality needs to be acknowledged by treatment professionals and addressed when evaluating the overall benefits and risks of buprenorphine. The potential degree of help or harm it may incur should also be discussed honestly and openly with the individual. One of the likely effects an individual should expect when tapering off of buprenorphine is the emergence of a withdrawal or discontinuation syndrome.

In Part 1 of this article, I discussed how according to the drug-centered model, when psychoactive medications like buprenorphine are taken over a long period of time, they “induce physical adaptations to the presence of the drug.” The body attempts to counteract the effects of the drug, which it sees as a foreign, exogenous substance. In time, a kind of homeostasis is reached between the effects of the medication and the body’s adaptations to it. When the medication is stopped, the body’s adaptations overpower the now weakened medication effect and symptoms of withdrawal or discontinuation are evident. I’d suggest this is likely with years of medication maintenance and even after a slow, gradual taper.

The taper event should be addressed clinically as a relapse trigger and the resulting withdrawal symptoms understood simply as that; and not as a reemergence of the ‘disease state’ that will lead back to active use if buprenorphine maintenance is not resumed. I think this discontinuation or withdrawal is best understood as the delayed manifestation of post-acute withdrawal (PAW) symptoms. The original use of an opioid recreationally was supplanted by an opioid (buprenorphine) used as a MAT and the original emergence of PAW symptoms was muted or never truly occurred.

I’ve added the thinking of Terrance Gorski on recovery and relapse to the discussion here. See “Preventing the Relapse Process,” Part 1 and Part 2 for a discussion of relapse. See “Managing Your PAWS” and “Recognizing Your PAWS” for a discussion of post-acute withdrawal. Also see the Gorski-CENAPS Corporation for his books and workbooks.

I think there can be productive dialogue between the two opposing views of medication-assisted treatment. A necessary first step is to see buprenorphine and opioid use disorder through the lens of the drug-centered model of medication action. Then there can be discussions of the complexities and limitations of treating opioid use disorder with an opioid. Research won’t have to ignore that elephant in the methodology. And then we can begin to do the truly important work of answering the questions—for whom, for what purpose, for how long and at what cost—as we assess the potential help or harm of buprenorphine as a treatment for opioid use disorder.

06/23/20

The Complexities and Limitations of Buprenorphine, Part 1

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William White said he has for years tried to build bridges of communication across the polarized debates surrounding the use of medications in the treatment of addiction. He wrote “From Bias to Balance: Further Reflections on Addiction Treatment Medications” with a two-part goal in mind that I have borrowed and revised to frame my discussion here regarding the use of buprenorphine to treat opioid use disorder. The first part of White’s goal in “From Bias to Balance” was to help recovery advocates understand the positions of some who reject the use of medications as a pancea for opioid use disorders. The second part was to understand the complexities and limitations involved in the use of buprenorphine to treat opioid use disorders. For what it’s worth, I think I largely agree with White, even if I approach the issue more from the side of abstinence-based recovery.

Seeing medication-assisted treatment (MAT) as a polemic of medication haters and medication advocates muddies the waters by lumping different medications with radically different effects into the same category of MAT. According to SAMHSA in “Medication and Counseling Treatment,” the FDA has approved methadone, buprenorphine and naltrexone to treat opioid use disorder. Both methadone and buprenorphine are themselves scheduled substances by the DEA, meaning they each have a potential for misuse. This should be kept in mind when they are used to treat opioid use disorder, and be seen as a limitation of the respective medication. The other FDA-approved medications used for MAT, including those used to treat alcohol use disorder, are not scheduled substances and do not have the same limitation.

SAMHSA said a common misconception with MAT is that it substitutes one drug for another. According to SAMHSA, these medications are said to relieve the withdrawal symptoms and psychological cravings “that cause chemical imbalances” in the body. The phrase, “that cause chemical imbalances,” implies that the medications help correct an abnormal brain state, an assumption of what psychiatrist Jonanna Moncrieff called the disease-centered model of drug action in The Myth of the Chemical Cure. Buprenorphine and methadone do not balance or correct an abnormal brain state, in my opinion. They are as much exogenous, foreign bodily substances, as heroin or fentanyl are. I think Moncrieff’s alternative model, the drug-centered one, more appropriately captures both the effects of the originally misused drug and the medication used to treat it.

Joanna Moncrieff developed her drug-centered and disease-centered models of drug action to describe how psychiatric medications work, but they also apply to all psychoactive substances, all mind-altering and mood-changing chemicals. The disease-centered model of drug action seems to underlie the uncritical advocacy of medications for opioid use disorders. “Psychiatric drugs [including methadone and buprenorphine] are psychoactive drugs which, by their neurophysiological effects alter ‘mental and emotional life and behaviour for the duration of the treatment.’” Along with their immediate  and sometime euphoric effects, when psychoactive medications are taken over a long period of time on a regular basis, they “induce physical adaptations to the presence of the drug.” These adaptations have several consequences, including the following.

When a psychoactive medication is used on a regular, frequent basis, the body attempts to counteract the effects of the drug, which it sees as an invading, foreign substance. In time, a kind of homeostasis is reached between the effects of the psychoactive medication and the body’s adaptations to it. This often leads to the development of tolerance, meaning that larger doses of a medication are needed to achieve the original psychoactive effects. When the medication is stopped or reduced too rapidly, the body’s adaptations overpower the weakened or absent medication effect and symptoms of withdrawal or discontinuation become evident.

When this process is viewed through the lens of a disease-centered perspective, the body’s reaction is interpreted as evidence of the reemergence of the underlying condition which the medication had “balanced.” In this case, opioid use disorder. And the recommended treatment is then a continuation of the psychoactive medication to maintain that balance, perhaps indefinitely. Instead of a disease-centered view of restoring chemical balance, I think opioid medications like methadone and buprenorphine relieve withdrawal symptoms and psychological cravings by creating their own abnormal brain state. This view is consistent with Moncrieff’s drug-centered model of drug action.

See “A Drug Is a Drug Is a Drug” or search this website for “the disease-centered model” for more on this topic. Also see “Models of drug action” on Jonna Moncrieff’s blog and “Rethinking Models of Psychotropic Drug Action.” Nevertheless, as William White said, medications can play a valuable role in addiction treatment:

Medications can play a valuable role in harm reduction, recovery initiation, and recovery maintenance for populations for whom they are indicated and acceptable, but we do a disservice to those populations, their families, and their communities if we portray medication alone as a panacea for the cure of all opioid addiction and fail to carefully communicate both the potential value and the limitations of medications. Issues like the above [see “From Bias to Balance”] need to be part of our nuanced discussions with those we serve. We similarly do a disservice if we let anti-medication polemics go unchecked within our local and national conversations.

Medications are best viewed as an integral component of the recovery support menu rather than being THE menu, and their value will depend as much on the quality of the milieus in which they are delivered as any innate healing properties that they possess. If the effectiveness of medication-assisted treatment (MAT) programs is compromised by low retention rates, low rates of post-med. recovery support services, and high rates of post-medication addiction recurrence, as this review suggests, then why are we as recovery advocates not collaborating with MAT patients, their families, and MAT clinicians and program administrators to change these conditions?

People seeking recovery from opioid use disorders and their families are in desperate need of science-grounded, experience-informed, and balanced information on treatment and recovery support options—information free from the taint of ideological, institutional, or financial self-interest.

Consistent with a drug-centered model of medication action, the potential risks and benefits of buprenorphine as a MAT need to be objectively and scientifically assessed. One of the complexities and a limitation of buprenorphine-based MAT is the fact that it is a Schedule III controlled substance, with a moderate to low potential for physical and psychological dependence. There is also a higher risk of harm, including overdose and death, when buprenorphine is combined with benzodiazepines or other sedatives like alcohol. Because of this danger, information was added to the Boxed Warning on the Medication Guides by the FDA for buprenorphine products on the risks of slowed or difficult breathing and death. Even before it was approved as a MAT, in the US, buprenorphine was known to have problems with diversion and misuse.

While the risks of misuse are lower for buprenorphine than for most other opioids in the US, this is not true in many European and Asian countries. Illicit buprenorphine use has been reported in Sweden, Scotland, Norway, Ireland and Spain. In Finland buprenorphine is the most widely abused opioid. In 2001 Finland had a sharp increase in the misuse of buprenorphine that coincided with a decrease in the availability of heroin. Seventy-three percent of a sample of participants in a Finnish syringe exchange program reported buprenorphine was their most frequently abused injection drug. Participants also used it as a self-treatment for withdrawal.

In “From Bias to Balance,” William White noted the standard practice with medications is to define the precise condition a medication is best suited to treat, and then identify patients who should not be prescribed the medication because of potential harm, meaning the risks outweigh the potential benefits for them. Yet after more than a century of attempts to treat opioid addiction with medications, there is no clinically defined protocol for who is most likely to benefit from pharmacotherapy. Additionally, “the question of potential degree of help or harm of medications in the treatment of addiction is unanswerable without also asking, “‘For whom?’ ‘For what purpose?’, ‘For how long?’, and ‘At what cost?’.”

White said the addiction treatment field has yet to reach consensus on what is the optimal duration of medical support in treatment of opioid use disorder. I think this impasse partly reflects the unacknowledged presumption of Moncrieff’s disease-centered model of drug action among medication advocates. The disease-centered model is itself a product of what is called the medical model, which sees psychopathology as the result of biology; a physical/organic problem in brain structures, neurotransmitters, etc. The over reliance on the medical model perspective (and the disease-centered model of drug action) in addiction treatment leads to an imperfect conception of substance use disorder and a distorted understanding of the risks and benefits of buprenorphine when it used to treat opioid use disorder.

Self-consciously taking a drug-centered model of drug action with buprenorphine and rejecting the medical model perspective of substance use disorders is necessary to truly reach a consensus on the potential degree of help or harm of buprenorphine in the treatment of opioid addiction. Consider what Joanna Moncrieff said in The Myth of the Chemical Cure when contrasting her two models of drug action to the use of buprenorphine in MAT:

The disease-centred model suggests that the important or ‘therapeutic’ effects of drugs are achieved by their effects on a particular disease process. By acting on the mechanisms of the disease, drugs move the human organism from an abnormal physiological state towards a more normal one. In contrast, the drug-centred model suggests that drugs themselves create abnormal bodily states. In the case of drugs that act on the brain or the nervous system, these states involve an alteration in subjective experience or consciousness. Psychiatric drugs [including buprenorphine, I would add] are psychoactive drugs which, by their neurophysiological effects alter ‘mental and emotional life and behavior for the duration of the treatment’ (Cohen & Jacobs 2007). When we consider drugs that are taken recreationally we have no trouble recognizing this fact and we refer to the altered mental state drugs produce as ‘intoxication’. But there is no fundamental distinction between drugs used for psychiatric purposes and other psychoactive drugs. They all act on the nervous system to produce a state of altered consciousness, a state that is distinct from the normal undrugged state.

The impasse between so-called medication haters and medication advocates is philosophical, not scientific. Beginning with a drug-centered model of buprenorphine can help us move forward in correctly addressing questions on the potential degree of help or harm buprenorphine brings to the treatment of addiction. We can more clearly discuss the complexity and limitations of using buprenorphine, an opioid medication, to treat opioid use disorder when that treatment is viewed through a drug-centered model of medication action.