Berry tripping on FSD

Synsepalum dulcificum is a powerful drug. Vastly underrated, too.

“Miracle fruit” registers as a solitary blip on the human-chemistry-altering-and-culturally-significant-but-illegal radar, lacking the intellectual firepower of marijuana, the socioeconomic symbolism of cocaine or even the lowest-common-denominator quality of alcohol.

For one reason or another, s. dulicificum never really went mainstream. It passed through Duke on Wednesday without much fanfare. The Duke University Student Dining Advisory Committee this week sold somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 tablets of “miracle berry” at roughly market value ($5). As someone who has ingested one, allow me to suggest that the market has horribly undervalued this commodity.

S. dulcificum essentially renders sour tasting foods sweet and thereby acts as a sugar substitute (without the caloric intake of Equal or Sugar in the Raw). The drug—actually a berry, but falling under that ever-growing umbrella of substances that modify chemical processes within the human body—achieves a sweetening effect via a glycoprotein called miraculin. This chemical binds to sweetness receptors in human taste buds, and, by a process thus far unknown to modern science, increases responsiveness to acids.

Minutes after consuming my tablet of Fruit S.D. (I remain in the process of copyrighting the term and its abbreviated version, FSD), I found myself able to accomplish feats that no doubt would have won me an episode of “Fear Factor” or at least a stint on “Man vs. Food.” For 45 minutes, I could take down shots of vinegar and hot sauce faster than John Daly during happy hour. I weathered slices of lemons, limes and citrus sans the Amy Winehouse whiskey face. The entire experience was enough to constitute withdrawal symptoms that would put Ron Washington to shame, and merit two embattled celebrity references (I’m excepting Washington until the Rangers can string together two consecutive seasons with a team ERA south of 4.5).  

Predictably, the FDA has laid down the law on mass production of FSD, although not for the reasons one might think. Miracle fruit has no known significant health consequences. The threat it poses is mainly a commercial one: If properly packaged and advertised, it’s highly possible—perhaps even probable—that the drug could wipe out Big Sugar. Some theorize that this is the chief reason the FDA moved in the 1970s to quash efforts to commercialize FSD. Robert Harvey and Don Emery, co-founders of a miracle berry start-up called Miralin, maintain that the FDA effectively sabotaged their company. In 1974, the FDA cut the chord on Miralin’s products only weeks after the Miralin offices were raided by burglars: “Somebody influenced somebody in the FDA to cause the regulatory action that was taken against us,” Emery told the BBC according to a 2008 article. Little organizations like DUSDAC can have “Berry Tripping” parties, but, as of now, requesting coffee served black with a tablet of FSD doesn’t register as a legitimate order at the Alpine counter. Miracle berries are still very much an underground phenomenon.

If the drug ever does go above ground, every institutional investor in the nation should be prepared to corner this market. Miracle berry is a prime candidate to be wildly popular among diabetics, the overweight and the great majority of the college-aged population that enjoys lemons and beer. Basically, any industry that could benefit from making rancid-tasting substances taste sweeter would necessarily generate a heavy demand for FSD. Think big pharma. Consumer staples. Adult film.   

The very existence of FSD opens the door to a number of other intriguing possibilities. Miracle berry, after all, initially entered the sphere of public awareness in 1725, when Chevalier des Marchais, a French explorer, chronicled its gustatory effects. It’s possible—once again, maybe even probable—that plant species with similarly chemistry-altering berries have yet to be discovered. There is no biological principal affirming that only taste can be manipulated from ingesting yet unknown fruits: Who is to say there’s not a berry that has glycoproteins that bind to olfactory or tactile or auditory or visual sensors? Add in advances in genetic engineering, and it would seem that any of these berries’ offspring could be fine-tuned to enhance or nullify any of the five senses. FSD might just be the beginning of an infinite expansion of the scope of human consciousness.