Ego Death: The Science, the Myths, and the Absolute Nonsense
- The Lucid Guide
- Jan 30
- 5 min read
Ego death. You’ve heard of it. You’ve seen people claim they’ve had it. But what the hell is it actually?
Some claim it’s a spiritual awakening, others treat it as a badge of honour, and a few even talk about it as though it’s a one-way ticket to godhood (which seems more than a little arrogant).

But what actually is ego death? Is it enlightenment? Is it brain damage? Is it just another way for people to pretend they’ve discovered the meaning of life after taking mushrooms in their mate’s living room?
Well, let’s untangle all the silliness.
The Origins: Where Did ‘Ego Death’ Come From?
First things first, ego death wasn’t invented by the hippies or psychonauts it's so popular with. It has roots in psychology, specifically in the work of Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud.
Freud, known for his brand of fun-seeking light-hearted approach to the psyche (yes, this is sarcasm), divided the mind into three parts—the id (primal urges), the superego (society’s rules and expectations), and the ego (the thing that keeps the other two from tearing you apart).
Ego death, in a psychological sense, would mean the collapse of that balancing act—AKA going a bit loopy and losing the plot.
(BTW non of this is at all factual, think of it as a rough map Freud used to explain what he observed and believed was going on)

Later, Timothy Leary, Stanislav Grof, and other psychedelic pioneers hijacked the term to describe what happens when high doses of LSD make you forget who you are—the 1960s were fun, but crikey they made everything a confusing mess...
Since then, it’s been picked up by spiritual seekers, self-proclaimed internet gurus, and pretty much anyone looking to market a $500 online course on "transcending your limits and reaching enlightenment" (AKA — throwing your hard earned cash into someone else's backpacking holiday funds)
The Science: What’s Actually Happening?
So, here’s the bit where we separate fact from fantasy. Neuroscientists have looked at what happens in the brain during so-called ego death experiences, and the main suspect is something called the default mode network (DMN)—the part of your brain responsible for self-referential thoughts, your personal narrative, and your general sense of “I exist.”
Basically, the DMN is related to that old friend of ours, metacognition: you know, that thing that's pretty flipping important for lucid dream induction.

Under certain conditions—whether through meditation, psychedelics, sensory deprivation, or extreme exhaustion—the DMN quiets down.
When this happens, the usual sense of “me” fades, and instead, people report feeling like they’ve merged with the universe, become one with everything, or ceased to exist entirely.
It's an absolutely lovely ecstatic experience when it's nice, and a horrific spiral into existential terror when not.
It definitely sounds pretty profound, right? But it's not necessarily.
The same thing can happen during near-death experiences, deep states of meditation, and even in people suffering from mental health issues or dissociative disorders.
It’s absolutely not proof of a spiritual awakening—it’s just some pretty interesting evidence that the self is far more fragile and malleable than we like to believe.
The Myths: Debunking the Silliness
Ego death has taken on a life of its own, and with it, a whole load of nonsense.
One of the biggest misconceptions is that ego death is some kind of permanent transcendence. That once you experience it, you’ll be enlightened forever, floating through life with a serene grin and no attachment to material concerns. That’s utter rubbish.
Ego death, if anything, is temporary (ego sleep?).
You always come back, because you have to—otherwise, you’d be a gibbering incoherent mess eating lunch through a straw, unable to function in society or wipe your own bottom.
The self reasserts itself, because that’s how the brain works. It's how you remember to put your pants on before going to tea with grandma.

Then there’s the idea that you can’t experience ego death without psychedelics.
Again, nonsense.
While substances like LSD, psilocybin, and DMT can fast-track the process, deep meditation, intense breathwork, and even extreme sleep deprivation can trigger a similar dissolution of self.
Psychedelics just tend to make it more dramatic—often with swirling fractal colours and a profound sense that you now understand the meaning of existence (which you’ll have forgotten by the next day—a bit like those profound insights you get in dreams).
And let’s not forget the worst offender—the notion that ego death is the ultimate spiritual achievement. This is where irony reaches its peak. If someone is bragging about how often they experience ego death, that’s absolutely their ego talking—they're trying to impress you—an act of unbridled self-absorption.
If they’re using it as a measure of their spiritual superiority, they’ve entirely missed the point.
Ego death DEFINITELY isn’t a trophy. The moment you start thinking of it as one, you’re back at square one—just with a fancier delusion and, more often than not, a smug self-satisfied grin and an increased expenditure on patchouli oil and crystals.
Is Ego Death Worth Achieving?
If ego death is just a strange brain state, is there any value in it?
Kind of, maybe, yes...

Some people find that temporarily stepping outside their sense of self gives them a new perspective on life. It can help shake up rigid thought patterns, reduce anxiety, and allow for a deeper understanding of how much of our identity is constructed.
In other words, it's nice to remember you're a strange, temporary, sentient pattern that is part of a mysterious swirling universe—and not just the person who has to pay their taxes and worries about getting fat.
Studies on psychedelics for depression and PTSD suggest that ego dissolution can break people out of negative mental loops, allowing them to see their problems from a fresh angle.
That being said, chasing ego death like it’s the holy grail is a mistake. The goal of self-improvement isn’t to erase yourself—it’s to understand yourself better.
The ego isn’t some evil force keeping you trapped; it’s just the part of your mind that helps you navigate reality—your brain is a community, of which ego is a part.
Trying to permanently kill it off is like trying to remove the steering wheel from your car because you think you’d drive better without it.
The Ego Isn’t the Enemy
There’s a strange paradox in how people talk about ego death. They frame the ego as this villain—something to be defeated, transcended, eliminated.
But the ego is just you. It’s your personality, your memories, your experiences. It’s what allows you to function. It's what makes lucid dreaming possible.

Yes, there are moments when it’s useful to step outside of yourself, to see life from a broader perspective. But the moment you start treating ego death as something to achieve, you’re feeding the very thing you claim to be dissolving.
In practical terms, it's better to approach "ego death" in smaller bite-size pieces, more of an ego diminishing.
Start with "getting over yourself", learning to admit when you don't know something, fighting main-character syndrome, try to not always need to be right about everything, and be a little more humble in your approach to life and your place in this vast universe.
In other words, don't be a self-absorbed arrogant smeg-head.
It won't feel quite as transcendental, but it'll put you lightyears ahead of the "gurus". It'll also make lucid dreaming considerably easier to learn.
So, the next time someone brags about their seventh ego death this month, ask yourself—who exactly is it that wants you to be impressed?
(protip: it's their ego, and it's much more inflated than yours).