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.