DRUG POLICY? WHAT ARE YOU, HIGH?

Last week the University Health Services (UHS) Health Fair came to
town, complete with such goodies as free massages and tiny boxes of
Sunmaid raisins. Students left loaded up with pens, pamphlets, and
tips for "wellness."

One of the stalls, however, was not organized by UHS but by the
Office of Alcohol and Other Drug Services (AODS). Its leaflets
contained such informational gems as, "You still think marijuana
isn't bad for you? What are you, high?" The message was clear: Don't
do drugs, man.

Less clear are the signals sent by the College. The treatment of
drug violations on campus varies from waving away the issue like so
much pot smoke to public prosecutions and suspensions. This erratic
enforcement of drug laws makes the College's policy maddeningly
unclear and unfairly singles out unlucky individuals for massively
disproportionate punishment.

Officially, the College handbook states that a "pattern of behavior"
will lead to serious consequences; unofficially, John L. Ellison,
the assistant dean and secretary of the Administrative Board, said
that students will rarely be disciplined solely for minor drugs
violations. Yet last January the Harvard University Police
Department (HUPD) conducted a three-week investigation in order to
catch two students allegedly smoking and dealing pot in DeWolfe
(the charges were dismissed conditional on good behavior in May),
and a month later HUPD bypassed College disciplinary procedure to
prosecute two Quincy students for possession of LSD.

One reason for this discrepancy is that the three bodies governing
drug policy at the College seem to have remarkably little
coordination. Even when directly asked what their priority is, they
can't give a consistent answer. The AODS claims to prioritize
"health and safety," the Administrative Board "education," and HUPD
"to hold students accountable for their behavior." No wonder the
College's actions seem somewhat inconsistentaE"it's suffering from
multiple-personality disorder.

Ostensibly it might seem like a good idea to give different bodies
different areas of jurisdiction, but that's not how the system (if
one can call it that) works. Instead, the result is an unpredictable
hodgepodge of punishments, with luck as the determining factor. If
you're unfortunate enough to come across HUPD in the wake of some
bad publicity, expect a lengthy court process before the case's
possible dismissal. But if you're caught by a relaxed tutor, expect
a reprimand from the Ad Board, some drug counseling, and a slap on the wrist.

Of course, most of the time the College is admirably lenient in
response to drugs violations. But leniency "most of the time" is not
good enough for those few students who, in the words of Ryan M.
Travia, director of Alcohol and Other Drug Services, happen to be
caught "in the wrong place at the wrong time." Flexibility is good,
but this ad hoc decision making fails to guarantee students even
vaguely similar treatment for similar crimes.

Of course, hard-liners would say that the problem is leniency, not
inconsistency: Harvard must pursue full legal punishment for drug
offences because "it's the law!" But why should the College put
itself front line in the Government's disastrous "war on drugs?" The
concept of zero tolerance is both unfair and ineffective: It does
little to dissuade drug use, and potentially carries hugely
disproportionate penaltiesaE"prison and a permanent criminal
recordaE"for personal drug use. After all, the campus' few potheads
and even fewer hard drug users rarely cause great harm to themselves
and even more rarely to others. Furthermore, Harvard does not need
to turn to state and federal punishments because it has its
own serious disciplinary options.

So, if the College accepts that zero tolerance is wrong, the only
fair, safe, and sensible approach would be for all three bodies to
more formally endorse the College's general policy of leniency. This
need not mean a public declaration of intent to disregard federal
lawsaE"that would clearly be stupidaE"but rather internal
communication that ensures consistency. As counselors like to tell
us, "A problem shared is a problem halved" (or in this case,
trisected): The College needs to arrange a good, long talk between
its three drugs-related bodies. It should be possible, after all,
to apply more consistently the sensible attitudes displayed by
individuals in these bodies.

Overall, College officials seem to agree on drug policy, which is
why we don't often hear about incidents such as the DeWolfe and
Quincy arrests last year. In both of these cases, however, HUPD
proved itself to be the loose cannon, needlessly pursuing legal
action even when it benefited no one. HUPD's rules stipulate that
such decisions are left up to the officers' discretionaE"or, in
other words, to the student's luckaE"but the College can create
guidelines to limit that discretion. After all, there is no
reason that HUPD's regular communication with the College shouldn't
include a firm discussion on how to make drugs policy consistent
across the board.

Of course this issue only affects the relatively small number of
illegal drug-users at Harvard (discounting underage alcohol use).
But for those few students, it can mean the difference between a
stressful week, forced withdrawal for a year, and a life-ruining
drugs conviction. The College needs to realize that "Drugs are bad,
man" is not enough, and that only a consistent enforcement policy
can be a fair one.

Juliet S. Samuel '09, a Crimson editorial editor, is a social
studies concentrator in Eliot House.