VOICE OF EXPERIENCE:We should look at the facts available rather than our moral intuition when dealing with the consumption of drink and drugs, writes RICHARD MacCARTHY
MANY OF us have wondered how the economists, governments and bankers did not learn from past recessions and were unable to foresee our current crisis. Others admonish the UK and the United States for not learning from their experiences in Vietnam and Northern Ireland while they continue to attempt to forcefully bring peace to Afghanistan.
I have no doubt that Ireland is failing to learn from the past and from the experiences of other countries on the issue of illegal drug use.
I have just completed a philosophy MA and since I have been in college, I have worked as a nightclub bouncer, a head shop cashier and am now currently employed in a well-respected family off-licence. I find myself oddly placed, insofar as I must be one of the few people in the country to have witnessed the effects of alcohol and the so-called legal highs from a neutral perspective.
Last summer I handed in my CV to a head shop almost as a joke, expecting never to hear from the shop again. To my surprise, a week later I received a phone call to tell me that I had the job, no interview required.
I learned later that just after I handed in my CV, the shop was robbed at knifepoint, explaining why the manager was now more than happy to spend some money hiring another employee.
By this time, head shops had become a public concern, drawing regular protests and angry questions in the Dáil, so I was quite nervous when at work. My day consisted of showing up at around 1pm and selling the various pills, powders and herbs on offer in the shop. Although I have a reasonably liberal outlook, it was still unsettling to sell someone a pill which was only on the market for a few months and whose long-term effects were unknown.
I only worked there for a few weeks, but I learned several things from my stay in the head shop. First, the demand for these drugs was incredibly high, and the profits were astronomical.
Second, the demand for these drugs surprisingly did not come just from the poor or the homeless, but from the wealthy, the middle class, public servants, private sector workers, mothers, fathers, teenagers as well as the poor, the homeless and the addicted.
I was as likely to sell a cannabis-like herb to a wealthy, well-dressed businessman, child in arms, as I was to sell something to a tracksuit-wearing teenager. What was particularly striking was how unregulated the industry was; apart from the known side effects of these drugs, the general attitude in the shop was surprisingly cavalier.
Both the manager and the other employee would regularly be high when working, which at times made the working environment quite uncomfortable. The manager would rarely ask for ID even from obviously underage children (“over 18’s only” was perhaps the one rule – self-enforced by the shop owners – that was even occasionally adhered to), although sometimes I was told to be extra careful because “the gardaí are outside”.
Surprisingly, the sight of an addict or a homeless person spending their money on a legal high was a much rarer sight than you might think; I firmly believe that, although they were totally out of control, head shops were not nearly as poisonous or as corrupting as they were made out to be by politicians and the media.
That being said, I do still clearly remember one addict couple who would arrive in every couple of days, hands shaking, noses running, barely able to communicate even with each other, throwing down handfuls of change onto the counter for the cheapest, strongest high.
I now work in a well-respected family off-licence, where everyone is diligent in their work, going out of their way never to sell to anyone under 18 or to sell too much to one person.
It came as a shock to see that many of the more unfavourable aspects of my past job followed me into this new one. For example, it was a slightly numbing feeling to realise that many of our best customers (usually slightly gruff, friendly, middle-aged men, always with a story to tell) were in fact alcoholics, coming back to us because they are trapped in a life utterly controlled by drink.
Lacking the attention-grabbing shock value of the drug addict (a truly disgusting sight), these alcoholics move silently among the rest of society, unseen, just about better off than those living on the street, but with a future that is nevertheless as hopeless.
Talking to an alcoholic is not as disturbing as talking to an addict desperate to buy to a hard drug, but the false smile of an alcoholic somehow seems sadder. From what little I have seen, alcoholism is far more common and, in some ways, far more debilitating than drug addiction in Ireland.
I have been studying philosophy for four years now, and although it is not very good at finding you a career, learning philosophy does encourage you to examine problems in unusual ways.
I am particularly interested in political and moral philosophy, and I believe that Ireland’s drug policy is in need of a slightly more philosophical outlook.
To me there is a large gap between what we would consider “morally right” and the policies that would actually be most effective in dealing with the negative aspects of drugs in this country.
People do not want to endorse the taking of drugs by introducing some kind of legalisation scheme (because drugs are morally bad), but the Dutch, who famously have a highly liberal policy concerning cannabis, in fact have one of the lowest rates of cannabis consumption in Europe.
Furthermore, many people do not know that Portugal decriminalised all drugs (including hard drugs) over 10 years ago, and rather than an addiction epidemic, drug use for many hard drugs has measurably decreased, with a marked decrease in the number of drug-related deaths.
When an addict comes to the attention of the authorities in Portugal, he goes before a medical board that advises the person on a method of treatment for the addiction, and no charges are brought against the patient.
In Ireland, this person’s treatment would most likely be a lengthy stay in prison, compounding the problem of addiction and opening up criminal activity as a means to pay for this addiction.
It seems paradoxical, but the available evidence suggests that legalising at least some drugs would actually lower drug consumption across the country.
A proposal to legalise and tax various cannabis-related activities in California was defeated in a statewide ballot on November 2nd last. The outcome was close – 54 per cent of California voters voted No, and 46 per cent voted Yes. However, even if Proposition 19 had passed, the sale of marijuana would have remained illegal under federal law via the Controlled Substances Act.
Cannabis has been shown to be non-addictive, impossible to overdose on and is arguably slightly worse for your health than tobacco. Minister for Health Mary Harney recently stated she is open to the possibility of legalising cannabis for medicinal purposes; the drug relieves pain and swelling, while the side effect of hunger is proven to help maintain the appetites of chemotherapy patients.
There is also mounting evidence that the drug may actually fight certain cancers. Symptoms of multiple sclerosis can also be alleviated through the consumption of cannabis. Furthermore, the gateway label attached to cannabis is a topic that has been vigorously contested in the scientific community.
Supporters of legalising cannabis in California argued it would not only bring in billions of dollars in tax revenue to a state that, like Ireland, has serious financial problems, but would also free up police spending and reduce overcrowding in prisons. It was hoped that the powerful drug cartels would lose their main supply of income in California if the referendum passed. Opponents of Proposition 19 claimed it contained flaws that could have serious unintended consequences on public safety, workplaces and federal funding
I do not understand why a version of the policy implemented by the Netherlands and the Portugal has not been more seriously considered in Ireland. This is no longer a question that should only be discussed by college students and teenagers – examining the data available from countries that have legalised some or all drugs has shown that drug legalisation can be extremely beneficial to all of society.
Government regulation would be paramount – there could be no return to the Wild West methods of the head shops, where the effects of the drugs sold were unknown and where there were almost no rules as regards what can be sold to who.
It is certainly surprising to think that legalising a drug could actually lower drug consumption, but the available data suggests that the positive effects would go much further than that: criminals would be out of a job, freeing up the time and money of the Garda; underage youths would require an ID to buy drugs that are currently far easier to purchase illegally than alcohol; precious extra tax revenue would be generated (what if legalising cannabis meant a hospital in your area, or no pay cut or pension levy?); addicts would not be foolishly persecuted, and with the money saved from pursuing and imprisoning these people, they could be protected and helped by their government instead.
And yes, those liberals would also finally get the freedom to do what they wanted to do in their own homes. It isn’t intuitive, it does not sit easily with our moral compass, but if we could just let our drug policy be decided by the facts available to us and not our moral intuitions, then a whole cast of drug-related problems could be quickly and efficiently solved. And a little extra tax revenue wouldn’t hurt either.