Pubdate: Mon, 05 Mar 2001 Source: New Republic, The (US) Copyright: 2001 The New Republic Contact: 1220 19th St. NW Suite 600, Washington, DC 20036 Fax: 202-331-0275 Website: http://www.thenewrepublic.com/ Author: Andrew Sullivan Note: Andrew Sullivan is a senior editor at TNR. TRB FROM WASHINGTON Fine Lines The most frustrating part of the interminable debate about the "war on drugs" is the word "drugs." Strictly speaking, after all, there is no war on drugs in this country; there is a war on some drugs. America boasts a vast legitimate pharmaceutical industry, and personal expenditures on its products go up every year. Very, very few of us go even a week without taking some kind of drug, be it an over-the-counter cold medicine, a doctor-prescribed medication, or a self-medicated legal substance--a cigarette, a shot of tequila, a double espresso, a McFlurry. And the variety and sophistication of these substances are growing as fast as their use. Do you remember the day when you could simply ask for a cup of coffee and no further elaboration was required? The salient question behind the "drug" war, then, is not simply the usual libertarian-authoritarian conundrum. It's much simpler: What is the criterion that makes one drug the object of a "war" in which millions are incarcerated for illegal use and another drug the object of a vast marketing machine through which millions are regularly sold to and hooked? The more you think about the question, the more elusive the answer becomes. Once upon a time, medicine was relatively unsophisticated. The few medicinal drugs there were saved lives or cured obvious debilitating illnesses; the few recreational drugs there were gave people pleasure or excitement or oblivion and were regulated on an ad hoc but vaguely sane basis. In a puritanical culture, drugs that were extremely pleasurable, physically harmful, and highly addictive--opium, cocaine, heroin--were banned. Drugs that were mildly pleasurable, slightly unhealthy, and less addictive--caffeine, nicotine, alcohol--were milked for profit and tax revenues. Few pretended this scheme was entirely coherent--permitting addictive, destructive booze while banning nonaddictive, benign pot made no real sense--but it seemed a practical balance between the right to personal pleasure and the need for social calm. The one attempt to be coherent, Prohibition, proved the dangers of consistent logic in social policy. And then technology had its way. It seems to me that the last decade or so has largely invalidated whatever sanity lay behind this practicable scheme. Our deeper understanding of the chemical effect of even a candy bar has made us think about everything we consume in pharmacological terms. (You can partly thank the Food and Drug Administration's labeling for that.) And our ability to take pharmaceutical substances and alter them in minuscule ways has further blurred the distinction between "good" and "bad" chemicals. The result is a hopelessly contradictory scheme in which fat-drenched hamburgers--partly responsible for heart disease, our leading cause of death--are celebrated, while marijuana, consumed with little harm by millions, is stigmatized to the point of incarceration. And these are the easy cases. Further up the chemical-sophistication ladder, the ironies only multiply. Take the designer drug Ecstasy. "E" is now classed in the same group of illegal drugs as heroin. But as recently as the 1980s it was completely legal; Merck patented it in 1914. E works by flooding the brain for a few hours with serotonin, the "happy" chemical, a substance our body naturally produces but in much smaller and more consistent amounts. Now compare Prozac. Prozac and its sister and successor drugs help regulate the production of serotonin for people with suppressed or unstable serotonin levels. The effect of such drugs is far less intense than that of Ecstasy--and the method by which serotonin is released and moderated is far subtler. But the substance being manipulated is the same. Indeed, people who regularly take Prozac tend to find that E barely affects their mood at all. Their serotonin problem is already fixed. Yes, there are differences in degree here, and some in kind. Long-term, persistent use of Ecstasy has been correlated with depression. But long-term use of Prozac may affect the structural composition of the brain as well. Neither is clearly dangerous unless taken in massive doses. Both are designed to make people "happier." What rationale is there in making one drug illegal and marketing the other to literally millions every year? Similarly, Starbucks profits by marketing coffee, a legal substance that addictively wires people for hours on end. Health-food stores sell stronger versions of speed in the form of pills and even chocolate. There are no laws preventing anyone from drinking ten double espressos or downing several packets of No-Doz. But one sniff of a much more concentrated methamphetamine--which might actually be less damaging to your body--can land you in jail. Similarly, you can get a dose of Xanax from your doctor and feel extremely mellow within half an hour; or you can take two puffs of pot and be a felon. Likewise, you can buy a drug from a vitamin store--androstenedione--to boost your own production of testosterone, or you can get a packet of testosterone gel on the black market (as thousands of teenage jocks do) and risk a criminal record. A growing number of "medicinal" drugs also have high "recreational" street value: painkillers like Vicodin, downers like Valium, uppers like Ritalin, and anesthetics like Ketamine. My point is not that there is no sense at all in these distinctions. Clearly, crystal meth is more potent, more addictive, and easier to take than ten triple espressos. Clearly, excessive steroid use can wreck people's livers in ways that even massive use of legal androstenedione won't. But we're dealing here with degree as much as kind. And as the sophistication of pharmaceuticals develops exponentially each year, the lines we draw between legal and illegal, between stigmatized and accepted, will become more and more arbitrary. In exactly the same way, the very definition of "health" is up for grabs. Do most people take Prozac for their mental health or their sense of well-being? Is there a moral difference between taking Xanax to get some sleep and smoking a joint? If someone wants to take modest amounts of anabolic steroids to look good and feel sexy, why should that be illegal when a legal, multibillion-dollar industry is aimed at achieving the same effects with the stone-age technology of swallowing creatine, eating steak, and pushing pieces of iron up and down? Similarly, human growth hormone was developed to accelerate the growth of stunted children. It's now popular among retiring baby-boomers who enjoy its rejuvenating effects on their bodies and minds. But the boomers often have to fake weight loss and impotence to get it legally. Why shouldn't retirees have access to it--not because they have an actual physical ailment but because they want to enjoy to the fullest what's left of their lives? Isn't aging the ultimate physical ailment? I wish I knew the answer to these questions; to me they seem the ones we need to confront. The war on soft drugs is built on such logical sand that it cannot be sustained forever--just as the once-clear distinction between health and pleasure is now disintegrating, and only our residual cultural puritanism is propping it up. In a country dedicated to the pursuit of happiness, where happiness is reducible to a chemical, surely the "war on drugs" will not be the only casualty of this development. - --- MAP posted-by: Kirk Bauer