By Ann Bauer at Brownstone dot org. I have loved many addicts in my life. I have been exasperated, impoverished, and terrified by them. But also amused, warmed, enraptured, elevated…That's the thing about addicts. They contain multitudes, all drama and extremes. They're charismatic until they're repugnant, joyful until they're suicidal. Everything is in vivid, dangerous color. It's part of the ride and the reason they exert such a pull on cautious, ascetic people like me. Some of my addicts are gone. My closest friend and "Damn Good Food" co-author, Mitch Omer, died at 61. Others have found God and turned their lives around (they're now exciting and dramatic people of faith). I love people who are addicted to alcohol, drugs, gambling, and food. Many surf between the four. Recently, another category of people formed: the ones injecting themselves with GLP-1s, mostly to lose weight but also to control other impulses. It's clearly great for the handful whose life and health were being destroyed by obesity. But for the others? I'm dubious. Ozempic and its cousins (Mounjaro, Wegovy, Zepbound, et al.) modify the pleasure centers of the brain, making everything people crave—food, sex, smoking, alcohol, shopping, gambling, cocaine—less appealing. It doesn't address the underlying problems of addiction, such as depression or dishonesty. It just eliminates the part of the person that enjoys and revels, the colorful, joyous side. It's a version of the drug in Robert Louis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, that the doctor ginned up to divide himself, creating a respectable man bound by reserve and a separate murderous, pleasure-seeking monster. From Dr. Jekyll's own account: Hence it came about that I concealed my pleasures; and that when I reached years of reflection, and began to look round me and take stock of my progress and position in the world, I stood already committed to a profound duplicity of life. Many a man would have even blazoned such irregularities as I was guilty of; but from the high views that I had set before me, I regarded and hid them with an almost morbid sense of shame. It was thus rather the exacting nature of my aspirations than any particular degradation in my faults, that made me what I was and, with even a deeper trench than in the majority of men, severed in me those provinces of good and ill which divide and compound man's dual nature. In this case, I was driven to reflect deeply and inveterately on that hard law of life, which lies at the root of religion and is one of the most plentiful springs of distress. Though so profound a double-dealer, I was in no sense a hypocrite; both sides of me were in dead earnest; I was no more myself when I laid aside restraint and plunged in shame, than when I laboured, in the eye of day, at the furtherance of knowledge or the relief of sorrow and suffering. And it chanced that the direction of my scientific studies, which led wholly toward the mystic and the transcendental, re-acted and shed a strong light on this consciousness of the perennial war among my members. With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to that truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two. Of course, the doctor's desire to split off his hedonistic self will have devastating consequences. The lesson of Jekyll and Hyde is that decoupling morality from desire is unnatural. It disrupts the natural order. My question for RLS, were he still with us to answer: Do GLP-1s pose similarly catastrophic risks? I think they may. One reason is my Uncle Joe. Joe was a quiet, careful religious man. He and his wife, Darla, had desperately wanted children but it just never happened. They raised boxer dogs that they treated like babies. Joe worked as a photographer in North Minneapolis in this little tufted studio from the 1930s that smelled like ros...