The news has recently focused on decriminalizing drugs. The British Broadcasting Corporation recently noted that British Columbia is the first Canadian province to do so. It notes that there are many fatal overdoses. That is not news. I have written about overdose for years. There is a growing problem with people putting chemicals in their bodies. Water is wet, the sky is blue, the Browns choke every year. Some truths are unavoidable.
The BBC notes that seemingly each year we set a new record for deaths. In the US the rate reached 112,000 most recently. That is more than died in our entire involvement in Vietnam. I have used that comparison before. I used it in COVID-19, see Desensitized to Death (August 2020). I have used it regarding narcotics, see Opioids, Marijuana, and More (September 2017). People are dying, and there is apparently little that can be done.
Why the fatalistic acceptance? The bottom line is that the vast majority of these people are voluntarily putting chemicals in their bodies. They choose to take significant risk, rationally or not. Some enjoy a release or a trip. For some, unfortunately, it is their last trip. Those who advocate decriminalization are convinced that the problem is not with these decisions but with the "toxicity" of the "street drug supply."
If these people could instead access pharmaceutical-quality substances, they contend deaths would undoubtedly decrease. But, there are a fair few folks that die each year from overconsumption of prescription drugs. Death can come from drugs of any quality and supply chain.
The British Columbia (BC) effort is about a year old. It "allows adults to possess up to 2.5 grams of heroin, fentanyl, cocaine, or methamphetamine without being arrested, charged or having their drugs seized" in most instances. The advocates say that drug use "should be treated as a health matter" and not a criminal one. That is interesting.
Apparently, in BC, there are also people who do not want to have drug-deluded people around them. They want to live in a world of picket fences, and Little Pink Houses (Mellencamp, Uh Huh, Riva 1983). They want to live more in the world of Leave it to Beaver than Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That seems a bit conflicting. Can we return to the time of simple neighborhoods, manicured lawns, and idyllic existence? Some say all that Hollywood stuff is pure fiction anyway.
There are reported instances in BC of "drug paraphernalia found in parks, and of dogs accidentally ingesting opioids found on the ground." The hobby of some is perceived as polluting the living space of others. The reaction has been to decriminalize the use and possession of drugs. This has been on a local level, with the province (state) maintaining its Laissez Faire.
There is, in this, a NIMBY perspective worthy of consideration. That stands for "not in my back yard." There is a far greater propensity for the acceptance of behavior if it is conducted in someone else's backyard. Your support for loud music at 02:00 may be less if it is in your neighborhood than if it is in mine.
Mellencamp captured the NIMBY well in Don't Misunderstand Me (Nothin' Matters and What if it Did?, Riva, 1980):
Everybody can do what they want
But they just can't do it here
The challenge here is simple. There are those who are intent on using drugs. There are others who do not condone or accept the use of drugs. There is at least some connection perceived between drug use and a spectrum of other problems from property crime to "public disorder." There are issues with homelessness, public health, and more. The two sides of this debate are perhaps destined to never find common ground.
The BBC mentions that Oregon decriminalized drugs. I noted that in Heroin and LSD No Longer Illegal? (November 2020). I questioned then whether other states would follow. It appears, instead, that the Oregon legislature has regressed toward the law and order approach.
That news broke on April 1, 2024, on NBC News. After just over 3 years of "anything goes," the Oregonians perhaps return to criminal penalties. Changing the law won't effect change, it may only enable it. Effecting change will require more than the new legislation. Police will have to be willing to make arrests, prosecutors to prosecute, and juries to be willing to convict. It may be that there are no more convictions next year than last.
The Oregon motivation in 2020 was to use laissez-faire to "quell a deepening addiction and overdose crisis." Let those who want the drugs have them was the solution. But now, in retrospect, there is a sentiment that Oregon was "too progressive." There is a lamentation that "society wasn't ready for" free and unfettered access to chemicals. That one is intriguing. What would "ready" look like?
The Oregonians leveraged their dope in the new 2020 effort. They apparently dumped "hundreds of millions of dollars of marijuana tax revenues" into "treatment" and "harm reduction." According to the news, "that didn't translate into an improved care network." Some will be surprised that pouring money on a problem did not solve it. Others will point to a parade of other issues that have seen massive financial infusions without expected results.
Cyndi Lauper, years ago, suggested to us that "money changes everything." (She's Just so Unusual, Epic, 1983). Maybe she was right. Maybe not so much.
For some reason, Oregon experienced a perception of "spikes in overdose deaths" and some perceived "an increase in homelessness." Hundreds of millions of dollars at least didn't change some things. These societal challenges apparently drove the Oregon legislature to recriminalize these drugs. Critics of the legislation are vocal that the decriminalization was not given enough time. Proponents contend that recriminalization will bring better "treatment and care" for those who choose to use these substances.
So, there will be some who proclaim the futility of a war on drugs. Others will note the futility of laissez-faire and unfettered chemical availability. If no drugs and unlimited drugs are not the answer, is there an answer?
Why does the influx of money for care and treatment not eradicate this drug desire? Is it possible that there might be a few people who do not desire either treatment or care? Might there be a portion of our population that is interested only in being high? Could it be that some people are genuinely desirous of simply consuming chemicals? Before anyone becomes too pious, alcohol is certainly a chemical. Some would say that endorphins, dopamine, and others are similarly so. Does it matter if we buy it or make it ourselves?
The problem remains, people are dying. The sentiment remains and is growing, people want chemicals. The discord remains, there is no easy and clear solution. Will British Columbia follow Oregon back to recriminalization, or will Canada persevere on the path of laissez-faire? Will smaller subdivisions, cities and towns, protect their own and thus encourage emigration to the backyards of others? And as that all plays out, will the decriminalization of dope continue to march forward as if that chemical is somehow different from others?