Pubdate: Sat, 17 Mar 2001
Source: Age, The (Australia)
Copyright: 2001 The Age Company Ltd
Contact:  250 Spencer Street, Melbourne, 3000, Australia
Website: http://www.theage.com.au/
Forum: http://forums.f2.com.au/login/login.asp?board=TheAge-Talkback
Author: Robert Scheer
Note: Originally published in the Los Angeles Times

WHY THE WAR ON DRUGS CAN NEVER BE WON

"Cursed be he who cannot raise his pipe without betraying self. If 
composure be lost in smoke, tis frail man, not the wondrous weed, be 
judged at fault." - with apologies to the Bard

The news, all but buried, that William Shakespeare may have numbered 
marijuana and/or cocaine among his muses reminds us of the main 
reason the war against drugs, or alcohol, can never be won. Drugs 
often can be both therapeutic and fun.

When the 17th-century clay pipes preserved at the bard's home were 
examined by scientists recently, they determined that whoever smoked 
them - we'd like to think it was old Will - might have owed his 
flights of fancy in part to being stoned.

That is the one important idea left out of Traffic, that puritanical 
shotgun of a movie that hits every falsehood of the drug wars except 
the most obvious one - the denial that drugs, legal and not, are for 
many lucky users a pleasurable experience that ends there, without 
significant other cost. Heresy, I know, but how else is one to 
explain the prevalence of use, often by successful participants in 
thriving civilizations, down through the ages?

Like sex, drugs can also be a source of pain and turmoil; they can be 
abused and abusive, particularly when one is addicted. But the 
insistence that all users are addicts and that all illegal drugs are 
universally destructive is as silly as the assertion that all 
indulgence in sex, alcohol or legally prescribed narcotics is 
pathological.

Personally, I cannot handle drugs. After sampling much that was 
forbidden in my reckless youth, often ostensibly to improve writing 
or some other performance, I would awake to confront the gibberish 
residue of the evening's haze and ruefully admit to the mirror that I 
was no Shakespeare. A more fearsome experience with alcohol led to 
the same conclusion. And so in the interest of earning a regular pay 
cheque, I regretfully abstain even from a fine cabernet. Regretfully, 
because my abstinence is a sign of weakness necessitated by my lack 
of moderation.

However, most people who I have known are quite different; they enjoy 
their wine or various other hits and nonetheless work hard, pay taxes 
and have been wonderful parents and spouses. What right do I have to 
demand that their behavior be legally defined to accommodate my 
miserable lack of willpower?

Indeed, alcohol, my lead demon, has been an antidote to an otherwise 
historically far-too-uptight culture. Arguably, the now forgotten 
tradition of the evening cocktail hour brought some couples together 
more than any other factor. Typically, the cocktail hour allowed time 
for the only meaningful family conversation of the day. In other 
cultures, the liquor might be replaced with a bit of opium, cocaine 
or marijuana.

Is it inconceivable that some of the world's most important 
documents, say the United States Declaration of Independence, were 
written by authors who were to some degree stoned? After all, if it 
was good enough for Shakespeare, why not Jefferson?

Which brings one back to the folly of the drug war. The druggie 
daughter in Traffic, a top student and model citizen who suddenly 
degenerates, is atypical. The over-achievers who use drugs of one 
sort or another most often do so to enhance their performance; they 
eschew anything that gets in the way of that. Some slip along the 
way, but if we don't concede that the main danger of drugs is their 
illegality and not their chemical properties, we miss the point.

It is misguided law and the zealous enforcement of it that creates 
most of the human tragedy associated with banned drugs. Even in 
Traffic, the young woman had to go to dangerous neighborhoods to 
secure her supply, at heavy personal cost. This is little different 
than the personal carnage associated with the era of alcohol 
prohibition.

The lessons of prohibition for both alcohol and drugs are the same: A 
personal indulgence, which for most would normally be quite 
manageable, is turned into the stuff of chaos and crime because of 
draconian laws. Yes, as Trafficinsists, treatment for those who need 
it is far preferable to jailing people for a crime in which they are 
the victims. Yes, education and prohibition for minors is necessary 
to reinforce the dangers of addiction.

But adults should be free to name their own poison, knowing that for 
many, that is merely a figure of speech.
- ---
MAP posted-by: Kirk Bauer