Antonio Gracias, a billionaire private equity investor and one of Elon Musk’s closest confidants, has taken center stage in the rapidly evolving world of psychedelic medicine. His recent takeover of Lykos Therapeutics, the most prominent MDMA therapy company in the United States, has sent ripples through the pharmaceutical industry, government circles, and advocacy groups alike. The $100 million deal, which unfolded in the wake of a dramatic series of events, is being hailed by some as a bold new chapter for psychedelic-assisted therapy—and by others as a case study in the ethical gray zones where business, politics, and science collide.
Gracias’s journey into the psychedelic space is as unconventional as the therapies themselves. According to The Guardian, months before he would help lead the controversial federal Department of Government Efficiency (Doge), Gracias was dancing at Burning Man in the Nevada desert. There, he struck up a conversation with Rick Doblin, founder of the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (Maps) and a tireless advocate for legalizing MDMA for trauma therapy. Doblin, known for his avuncular smile and tranquil demeanor, had just seen Lykos—the for-profit pharmaceutical arm of Maps—face a major setback: the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) had rejected its application to approve MDMA-assisted psychotherapy for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), citing inadequate clinical trial data.
The FDA’s decision had far-reaching consequences. Doblin announced his departure from the Lykos board, and the company laid off a staggering 75% of its staff. The future of MDMA therapy in the U.S. seemed suddenly uncertain. But as the story goes, Gracias offered Doblin a candid assessment amid the dust and music of Burning Man: the FDA’s rejection wasn’t Doblin’s fault, but rather the result of leadership failures at Lykos. Gracias advised letting the company go bust and starting anew with a clean slate. Weeks later, Doblin reached out to Gracias, opening the door for a possible takeover.
Gracias, who previously donated $1 million to Maps in 2020 and $16 million to Harvard’s psychedelics research in 2023, was no stranger to the cause. He soon connected with British hedge fund billionaire Christopher Hohn, and together, they began plotting a rescue of Lykos. By January 2025, just before Gracias formally joined Doge, he and Hohn were working on a plan to recapitalize the business. At the end of May, Lykos confirmed a $50 million Series B funding round led by foundations controlled by Gracias and Hohn. The company swiftly appointed a new CEO, chief medical officer, and board of directors, signaling a sweeping management shakeup and a new era of hands-on leadership from Gracias.
“It was the magic of Burning Man,” Doblin told The Guardian. “I was sort of looking for a white knight that would come in and would be more focused on healing and on public benefit.”
The timing of Gracias’s takeover could hardly be more consequential. The Trump administration, with top officials like Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr., has expressed openness to accelerating the approval of psychedelic therapies. Meanwhile, Silicon Valley’s elite—including tech titans and venture capitalists—are pouring money into the sector, hoping to capitalize on both its therapeutic promise and commercial potential. Lykos, which had raised $100 million in anticipation of FDA approval, stands poised to become a multibillion-dollar enterprise if it secures exclusive U.S. rights to sell MDMA for therapy.
Yet the deal has also raised a host of ethical and regulatory questions. Gracias’s involvement with Doge—a department that has aggressively dismantled federal agencies and seized control of government databases—has drawn scrutiny from labor unions, ethics watchdogs, and political observers. As The Guardian reports, Doge staffers have enjoyed unprecedented access to U.S. agencies and their processes, with few guardrails on how that access might influence their private ventures. The American Federation of Teachers and AFL-CIO have both flagged potential conflicts of interest, particularly given that Gracias’s private equity firm, Valor Equity Partners, manages retirement plans for public employees.
“We have seen so many, if not outright conflicts of interest then potential for conflicts of interest, and if not outright corruption, potential for corruption,” Faith Williams, a policy director at the Project on Government Oversight, told The Guardian. Cynthia Brown, senior ethics counsel at Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, echoed those concerns, noting, “You can’t be greasing the wheels and then say, ‘OK, now I’m going to quit and go pursue that approval.’”
Doblin, however, denied that Gracias’s government role posed any conflict, insisting that Gracias did not work directly with the FDA. Lykos itself has remained tight-lipped, declining to answer detailed questions about the takeover or Gracias’s dual roles.
Meanwhile, the scientific and regulatory hurdles facing MDMA-assisted therapy remain formidable. The FDA’s rejection of Lykos’s application was based on concerns about bias and inadequacy in clinical trial data. Critics pointed out the difficulty of conducting double-blind studies with a drug as distinctive as MDMA—participants invariably know whether they’ve received the real thing. The FDA has required Lykos to pursue another phase 3 trial, a process likely to take years and cost millions. Some industry advocates blamed anti-corporate groups like Psymposia for influencing the FDA, but the group countered, “The FDA rejected Lykos for flawed science, not because of Psymposia, and the public still deserves better than pseudoscientific therapy.”
Not everyone is convinced that the science is settled. “It’s very possible that MDMA is a safe and effective treatment under the right conditions,” said Mason Marks, head of the Project on Psychedelics Law and Regulation at Harvard Law School, “but I don’t think that was demonstrated adequately by the data, and there were a lot of question marks.”
The political winds, however, may be shifting in Lykos’s favor. Trump’s pick for Surgeon General, Casey Means, has openly praised psilocybin therapy, and her brother, a top Kennedy adviser, has called the Republican Party the “party of psychedelics research.” The FDA, under new leadership, could revisit its earlier ruling, potentially fast-tracking approval or authorizing emergency use. Doblin remains hopeful: “I hope that instead of a phase 3 study that the FDA may determine, I believe, that the data we gathered was valid.”
Gracias’s takeover is emblematic of a broader trend: the convergence of Silicon Valley money, political influence, and the quest for new mental health treatments. As venture capitalists like Peter Thiel back rival companies such as Atai Life Sciences, and as industry events draw celebrities and politicians alike, the stakes have never been higher—or more contentious. As Brad Burge, a former Maps marketing director, put it, “There’s been decades and decades of overlap between Silicon Valley and psychedelics. It’s just new in this epoch to be seeing this level of funding from highly public people.”
For now, Lykos Therapeutics sits at the crossroads of science, business, and politics, with Antonio Gracias holding the reins. Whether this bold experiment will lead to a renaissance in mental health care or spark new controversies remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the psychedelic revolution has a new face, and it’s not afraid to make waves.
