PSA Profiles: Flanking Psychedelic Care For Veterans: An Interview With CJ LoConte, Founder of Truxtun LLC
Image of LoConte from a Yes on Question 4 television advertisement that he appeared in last year
“For the first time, I was able to let go of the blame and guilt and shame that I kept bottled up from the military.”
By Jack Gorsline
Long before he took on a mission to educate the public about psychedelics, CJ LoConte was driven by service and the desire to empower current and former members of the armed forces. A US Army veteran and Duxbury native, LoConte is an alumnus of West Point, where he played lacrosse before serving as an infantry officer from 2017 to 2022.
Now, while concurrently pursuing a dual MBA/MPA from Wharton and Harvard, he is channeling his energy into Truxtun LLC. Founded during his first year of business school, the organization aims to transform the often “chaotic military-to-civilian transition into a rite of passage that builds clarity, community, and long-term leadership.” Through practical support and cohort-based psychedelic retreat programs, Truxtun focuses on guiding former military leaders toward influential roles in civic, business, and political life.
I spoke with CJ to learn more about his background, his vision for Truxtun, and the work that he is doing to redefine the veteran transition experience.
JG: What’s Truxtun’s origin story?
CL: I graduated West Point in 2017 as an infantry officer and my first duty assignment was out at Fort Carson Colorado where I had the opportunity to deploy as a rifle platoon leader in 2019 to the Middle East. While we were overseas, four of my soldiers attempted suicide, one which I unfortunately witnessed. Six months after getting back we had a soldier die by suicide. As leaders we often reflect praise and shoulder blame, and that hit me really hard.
Upon getting to my next unit, it was the same thing—more suicide. So I started drinking and my marriage started suffering. Upon getting out of the military, I was on my way to get an MBA at Wharton and my life should have been good, but I was carrying this weight of guilt and shame from the military. When I was around my other classmates, my PTSD was met with this intense imposter syndrome. The VA’s solution to my troubles was medication. I was on nine different medications by the end of my first semester. I was completely numb to the world. Apathetic to myself, apathetic to everyone. When medications don’t work, you start to think that you’re the problem.
At the beginning of my second semester, I achieved the finance job—I made it, but I never felt more empty and less fulfilled. Two months into my second semester at Wharton, I was hospitalized at the Philadelphia VA with suicidal ideation. I was given two Ativan, and I woke up in a red jumpsuit in their locked unit. They didn’t tell my wife where I was; they didn’t tell me where I was. I’ve never been more dehumanized, scared, or alone in my entire life. When you finally reach out for help at your lowest point, they somehow shove you lower.
However, it was here that a VA psychiatrist saved my life by telling me two things: One, the medication cocktail we have you on is lethal, so you need to stop taking them now; Two, you really need to check out psychedelics—I can’t tell you where to go or how to get them, or else I’ll lose my license, but you should do your homework. And I just read study after study about not only the efficacy, but the safety of psychedelics. I had to try it myself. I credit my psilocybin experience with saving my life. For the first time, I was able to let go of the blame and guilt and shame that I kept bottled up from the military.
Seven days after my first experience, another former soldier of mine killed himself. And I left the finance path and started Truxtun the next day. That was two-and-a-half years ago now.
One of the biggest concerns surrounding psychedelic-assisted therapy is the high cost of treatment sessions. How do you think this issue can be addressed—be it legislatively, commercially, or otherwise—to make psychedelic medicine more accessible to a broader range of participants?
Given the nascent and interdisciplinary nature of psychedelic medicine, we have a rare opportunity to design accessibility into the system from day one. I believe an effective way is through group-based treatment models with small, clinically supervised cohorts that move through preparation, dosing, and integration together.
Research from Dr. Ben Lewis and his team at the University of Utah has shown that psilocybin group-based therapy can achieve outcomes better than individual treatment—while cutting costs by as much as 40–60% per participant. When you combine that with the economies of scale built into shared staffing, space, and supervision, you start to unlock a model that’s both clinically effective and financially sustainable for the long term.
We’re designing this approach into the Massachusetts pilot structure now, combining public funding sources with these group-based protocols to bring costs down without compromising safety or clinical oversight.
Another challenge facing potential psilocybin therapy providers in Oregon and Colorado and ketamine-assisted therapy practitioners across the United States is the high cost of certification and licensing for clinicians who want to provide psilocybin-assisted therapy. What are your thoughts on how to address this barrier and encourage demographic diversity throughout both the psychedelic community and the mental healthcare industry at large?
Using existing pockets of government funding to support program costs. States already spend hundreds of millions on mental health, veterans, addiction recovery, etc. Psychedelics represent a rare, interdisciplinary opportunity to weave together existing infrastructure and resources. When you start connecting these small, specialized funding streams—state behavioral health appropriations, opioid remediation funds, veterans’ mental health grants, community health budgets—they can add up to support the full boat of services needed to responsibly build this new field from the ground up.
This is what we’re working on here in Massachusetts. We’re modeling our approach after New Mexico’s “Treatment Equity Fund,” which built equity and Indigenous representation into the law itself. By connecting these funding streams and establishing a state-led certification framework, we can lower training costs, expand access, and ensure that the people providing this care reflect the diversity of the communities it’s meant to serve.
Grassroots advocates for psychedelic policy reform in the US and abroad have gained and maintained remarkable traction and influence. So far, they have spearheaded efforts in 10 cities in Massachusetts and statewide reform movements led by grassroots groups in Oregon, Colorado, and, most recently, New Mexico and Texas. In all four states, as well as advocacy efforts across the cannabis and psychedelic landscape, veterans have played a key role both in leadership, messaging. How do you see those demographics influencing future collaborative efforts across the grassroots communities in Massachusetts and beyond to enact psychedelic policy reforms at the local, state, and/or federal level?
Veterans are the bipartisan bridge in this movement. When a combat veteran says, This saved my life, it cuts through the stigma in a way no data set or policy memo ever could.
In Massachusetts and beyond, I see three major demographic forces shaping the next phase of reform. First, veterans—continuing to normalize and humanize the conversation. Second, researchers and clinicians—ensuring the science stays rigorous and the rollout responsible. And third, grassroots communities—especially those historically excluded from healthcare innovation—who are demanding equity and access from the start. The future depends on collaboration between these groups rather than competition for airtime or funding.
As interest in psychedelics continues to grow across the United States and around the world, what do you see as the best-case and worst-case scenarios for its future in the United States?
Best case scenario: Psychedelics become fully legal, safe, and responsibly available—almost like how you can buy alcohol or supplements today. You could walk into a store and buy natural mushrooms that are tested, labeled, and low-dose, knowing exactly what you’re getting. There would be trained guides, clear safety rules, insurance coverage for clinical use, and educational programs that make this about wellness and growth.
Worst case scenario: rapid over-commercialization leads to safety incidents leads to political backlash leads to re-prohibition. Things move too fast, safety corners get cut, and a few bad incidents lead to a national backlash. Media panic, political pressure, and lawsuits push the government to re-criminalize psychedelics, shutting down clinics, research, and community programs. Big corporations might also monopolize the space, patenting nature and pricing out the people who need it most.
What would you say to parents, families, and individuals who might be against or still on the fence about the use of psychedelics?
It’s not a matter of if, but when. To quote an M.D. professor I had at UPenn, “Psychedelics will be the gold standard for mental health care within the next decade.” We can either choose to approach this next chapter with fear and stigma, or with curiosity and responsibility.
I’ve always learned that actions speak louder than words. The more people we are able to help with psychedelics, the harder it becomes to deny their impact. This work is saving and changing lives. I’ve experienced it firsthand and I’ve seen it firsthand.
What’s next for your advocacy, organizational, and industry-focused efforts?
We have a packed schedule coming up, which I’m super stoked about. First and foremost, we’re running a fundraiser/watch party for the Army v. Air Force game on Nov. 1 at Duxbury Bay Maritime school. We are raising money to send West Point and Naval Academy veterans and interested spouses on a psychedelic retreat during Army-Navy week.
We’re sending veteran cohorts to Colorado in November and to Peru in December. We have four more retreats on the books for early 2026 as well. We’re really focused on refining our model—building data, deepening partnerships, and continuing to prove what’s possible when veterans, science, and community come together.
Our advocacy efforts are heating up as well. Truxtun is actively backing Senator Cindy Friedman’s bill (S.1400) here in Massachusetts, which would establish the first state-led psilocybin research and therapy pilot under the Department of Public Health. We’re helping to organize speakers and testimony ahead of the November 10th hearing at the Massachusetts State House, bringing together veterans, clinicians, and policy experts to show what safe, responsible access can look like.
Aside from yourself and Truxtun, who are some other lead innovators, and/or advocates in the psychedelic science community that you think more people should know about and hear from?
Jesse Gould of Heroic Hearts Project, another Army veteran running unbelievable organizations. I’ve had the opportunity to learn so much from Jesse and cannot thank him enough for it. I feel like HHP’s little brother in this industry. It’s been such an honor.
Also, I look forward to working collaboratively with Jamie Morey and Graham Moore of Mass Healing to pass legislation in Massachusetts.
This article is syndicated by the MassWire news service of the Boston Institute for Nonprofit Journalism.
