EXPLOSION OF OUTRAGE OVER PHELPS AND MARIJUANA SAYS A LOT ABOUT
AMERICA'S IDIOTIC DRUG POLICIES

I'm not sure if it's because we're strung out on "Lost" episodes, or
if it's because we're still suffering from a post-9/11 stress
disorder that makes us crave "breaking news" alerts, or if it's
because the economy has turned us into distraction junkies. But one
thing is painfully obvious after Michael Phelps' marijuana "scandal"
erupted last week: Our society is addicted to fake outrage - and to
break our dependence, we're going to need far more potent medicine
than the herb Phelps was smoking.

If you haven't heard (and I'm guessing you have), the Olympic gold
medalist was recently photographed taking a toke of weed. The moment
the picture hit the Internet, the media blew the story up, pumping
out at least 1,200 dispatches about the "controversy," according to
my LexisNexis search. Phelps' sponsors subsequently threatened to
pull their endorsement deals, and USA Swimming suspended him for
"disappointing so many people."

America is a place where you can destroy millions of lives as a Wall
Street executive and still get invited for photo-ops at the White
House; a land where the everyman icon - Joe Sixpack - is named for
his love of shotguning two quarts of beer at holiday gatherings; a
"shining city on a hill" where presidential candidates' previous
abuse of alcohol and cocaine is portrayed as positive proof of
grittiness and character. And yet, somehow, Phelps is the evildoer of
the hour because he went to a party and took a hit off someone's bong.

As with most explosions of fake outrage, the Phelps affair asks us to
feign anger at something we know is commonplace. A nation of tabloid
readers is apoplectic that Brad and Jen divorced, even though one out
of every two American marriages ends the same way. A country
fetishizing "family values" goes ballistic over the immorality of
Paris Hilton's sex tape ... and then keeps spending billions on pornography.

And now we're expected to be indignant about a 23-year-old kid
smoking weed, even though studies show that roughly half of us have
done the same thing; most of us think pot should be legal in some
form; and many of us regularly devour far more toxic substances than
marijuana (nicotine, alcohol, reality TV, etc.).

So, in the interest of a little taboo candor, I'm just going to throw
editorial caution to the wind and write what lots of us thought - but
were afraid to say - when we heard about Phelps. Ready? Here goes:

America's drug policy is idiotic.

Doctors can hand out morphine to anyone for anything beyond a
headache, but they can't prescribe marijuana to terminal cancer
patients. Madison Avenue encourages a population plagued by heart
disease to choke down as many artery-clogging Big Macs and Dunkin'
Donuts as it can, but it's illegal to consume cannabis, "a weed that
has been known to kill approximately no one," as even the
archconservative Colorado Springs Gazette admitted in its editorial
slamming Phelps.

Indeed, it would be perfectly acceptable - even artistically
admirable in some quarters - if I told you that I drank myself into a
blind stupor while writing this column, but it would be considered
"outrageous" if I told you I was instead smoking a joint (FYI, I
wasn't doing either).

That said, what's even more inane than our irrational reefer madness
is our addiction to the same high that every pothead craves: the high
of escapism. Nerves fried from orange terror warnings, Drudge Report
sirens and disaster capitalism's roller-coaster economics, our
narcotic of choice is fake outrage - and it packs a punch. It gets us
to turn on the television, tune in to the latest manufactured drama,
and drop out of the real battle for the republic's future.

David Sirota is a fellow at the Campaign for America's Future. Find
his blog at OpenLeft.com