Pubdate: Sat, 06 Jan 2001 Source: Vancouver Sun (CN BC) Copyright: The Vancouver Sun 2001 Contact: 200 Granville Street, Ste.#1, Vancouver BC V6C 3N3 Fax: (604) 605-2323 Website: http://www.vancouversun.com/ Author: Paul Willcocks, Vancouver Sun ANOTHER DIES AS A FOOLISH POLICY ENDURES VICTORIA - The most bizarre thing about the overdose death of an RCMP drug expert is our shock. In the courts they call it wilful blindness, and it's no defence. There's no other way to explain our willingness to see drug users as some other species of tragic, wasted figures on downtown sidewalks. Constable Barry Schneider had a wife and two young children. He was a 23-year RCMP veteran who worked on drug abuse prevention from the Courtenay detachment. No one can explain how he ended up dead of a heroin overdose. As if it's easy to explain how more than 3,000 other people in B.C. died of drug-induced causes since 1994, when then chief coroner Vince Cain reviewed the heroin problem. He recommended more treatment facilities; more detox centres and sustained help for recovering addicts. Most fundamentally, he recommended treating addiction as a health issue, not a criminal one, including a recommendation that we prescribe heroin to people who can't quit. The report was largely ignored, although needle exchanges received more money. Dr. John Millar, then B.C.'s chief medical officer, completed another report on injection drug use in B.C. in 1998. "Heroin in itself is not particularly devastating," he found. What does more harm is the struggle to get enough money to buy it, the varying purity and dangerous additives and the sharing of needles, which has lead to an HIV and hepatitis epidemic. Dr. Millar called for a provincial substance abuse commission to replace the fractured efforts spread across several ministries, an immediate 50-per-cent increase in detox spaces and free methadone. And he too proposed a test of providing legal heroin for those who qualify. A similar experiment had already been conducted with Switzerland's 1,100 addicts. During the test, there was a massive reduction in criminal activity and an increase in employment -- and not one overdose death. More than 80 people even quit drugs while using free legal heroin. Those recommendations were also basically ignored. The provincial government has made a late and very small effort at expanding detox facilities, but they remain hopelessly inadequate. Drug-induced deaths -- overdoses, suicides and other causes -- killed 385 people in B.C. in 1999, more than motor vehicle accidents. Yet the government is making a major push to reduce road deaths and a half-hearted stab at reducing drug deaths. Of course the blame doesn't just belong to government. The number of deaths is not far off the toll from breast cancer or prostate cancer, but you don't see fund-raising runs or awareness campaigns about overdoses. The real problem is that we don't care about these people. We dismiss them as losers, crazies, weak. So politicians -- of all parties -- don't have to pay much attention. The government can under-fund treatment services and methadone programs, so hopelessly long waiting lists deter most people from getting help. And it's safe for them to treat the drug problem as a neighbourhood nuisance, rather than as a deadly tragedy. It's a stupid response. Our approach keeps a huge criminal industry alive, leaves addicts to steal or sell their bodies for drugs, denies them the help they need and perpetuates an approach that has seen HIV infections infect 25 per cent of intravenous drug users and Hep C 90 per cent. We chose to spend on hospitals for the dying and police, not help. (The Millar report found extending methadone therapy to 1,500 more addicts, with counselling, would cost $6 million a year. It would save $36 million in health care, policing and prison costs.) And it has not worked. It's also morally reprehensible. These aren't shadows on a downtown street. They were our fathers and daughters, our friends and neighbours, 15,000 people in B.C. who are at risk. Not only do we fail to help them, the way we deal with the problem helps condemn them to death. Constable Schneider's nine-year-old daughter found her dad lying on the kitchen floor last November, and ran for help. She's already had to deal with his death, back when everyone thought he'd had a heart attack. Now she has to figure out what it means that he overdosed. What it means is that he died tragically, victim of perhaps one bad decision on one bad day. He's not a different man, or a different father, because of the way he died. He's another among the thousands who have already died and thousands who will to die until we begin treating drug use as a serious health issue, not a criminal one. Until we begin to care. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake