News (Media Awareness Project) - CN ON: Column: You Can't Tell Us Drug Legalization Is Impossible |
Title: | CN ON: Column: You Can't Tell Us Drug Legalization Is Impossible |
Published On: | 2009-04-10 |
Source: | Ottawa Citizen (CN ON) |
Fetched On: | 2009-04-10 13:31:53 |
YOU CAN'T TELL US DRUG LEGALIZATION IS IMPOSSIBLE
Writing in The American Interest, esteemed political scientist
Francis Fukuyama called on the United States to do more to help
Mexico in its battle with the drug trade -- namely by boosting
security on both sides of the border and assisting reform of the
Mexican justice system. So far, so routine. But then Fukuyama made an
interesting observation.
The ultimate source of the problem, Fukuyama noted, is American
demand for illicit drugs -- and "the most straightforward way to
reduce demand, of course, would be legalization under a tightly
controlled regime."
Note the phrase "of course." Fukuyama is a leading American thinker,
a conservative, whose views are widely respected by powerful people.
And he is saying, almost with a shrug, that it's perfectly obvious
that legalization would do away with the most terrible problems
associated with illicit drugs.
But then politics rushes in. "While legalization has been proposed by
many people over the years," Fukuyama writes, "it has very little
chance of being enacted by Congress, and therefore is not for the
time being a realistic policy choice."
For those of us who think the criminal prohibition of the production,
sale, and possession of (some) drugs is the single most destructive
public policy of the last century, Fukuyama's argument may be
frustrating. First, he raises the possibility that serious policy
thinkers finally get it. Then, he dismisses legalization as a fantasy.
But keep some history in mind.
"There is as much chance of repealing the 18th Amendment as there is
for a hummingbird to fly to the planet Mars with the Washington
Monument tied to its tail," claimed Morris Sheppard, a U.S. Senator from Texas.
The 18th Amendment was the constitutional provision banning alcohol.
It was passed in 1920. Sheppard made his statement in 1930.
The 18th Amendment was repealed in 1933.
Sheppard wasn't the only one caught out by history. Far from it.
"They can never repeal it," boasted Congressman Andrew Volstead in 1921.
"I will never see the day when the 18th Amendment is out of the
Constitution of the U.S.," said Senator William Borah in 1929.
Prohibition's supporters had good reason to be confident.
Legalization wasn't merely unpopular. It required an amendment to the
constitution. "Thirteen states with a population less than that of
New York State alone can prevent repeal until Halley's Comet
returns," Clarence Darrow observed when Prohibition came into force
in 1920. "One might as well talk about his summer vacation on Mars."
So what happened? Prohibition failed, for one thing. It failed
blatantly, spectacularly. Instead of the sunny nation where children
grew up innocent of the evils of alcohol, the United States became
the land of bathtub gin and speakeasies. It also became the land of
opportunity for every thug looking to make big money, which
inevitably meant corruption and gangland violence on a scale never
before experienced.
But just as important was the coming of the Great Depression. While
the economy roared, most people were prepared to put up with an
idealistic, but futile crusade. But with banks crashing and
unemployment soaring, Prohibition felt like what it was -- an asinine
waste of time and money.
The solution became something obvious. It became something you
describe with the phrase "of course." Of course alcohol should be
legalized. Of course. In the end, Prohibition went quietly.
No, I don't think we are at our own "of course" moment,
notwithstanding Francis Fukuyama's "of course." But it is conceivable
we are heading that way.
In private conversations, I have heard many senior people say "of
course." I suspect the number of those thinking "of course" grows daily.
CNN's coverage of the bloodshed in Mexico has repeatedly raised
legalization as an option worth debating. That's a big change.
Critically, however, we lack the personal experience that people had
when they judged alcohol prohibition a failure. Most people today
don't know that drugs have not always been criminalized. Fewer still
know that when drugs were legal, they were not a source of ghettoes,
gang wars, and narco-states.
They do know, however, that developed countries spend tens of
billions of dollars every year trying to stamp out the illicit drug
trade. And they do know drugs are cheaper and more widely available than ever.
They also know we face an economic crisis. As in 1933, they may
conclude that there are better ways to spend precious tax dollars
than trying to enforce unenforceable laws.
The political barrier remains massive, but in politics even the
mightiest wall can turn to vapour with startling speed -- a fact
Fukuyama implicitly acknowledged when he said legalization was not a
realistic policy choice "for the time being."
It was impossible that alcohol would be legalized only a few years
before it was legalized. It was impossible that a black man would
become president of the United States in the year that the black
president of the United States was born.
The history of politics is stuffed with such transformation. Only 15
years ago, the NDP government of Ontario tore itself apart over a
modest plan to extend benefits to same-sex partners. Gay marriage?
Gay marriage was a fantasy. And today, that fantasy is law.
Never doubt that hummingbirds can fly to Mars.
Writing in The American Interest, esteemed political scientist
Francis Fukuyama called on the United States to do more to help
Mexico in its battle with the drug trade -- namely by boosting
security on both sides of the border and assisting reform of the
Mexican justice system. So far, so routine. But then Fukuyama made an
interesting observation.
The ultimate source of the problem, Fukuyama noted, is American
demand for illicit drugs -- and "the most straightforward way to
reduce demand, of course, would be legalization under a tightly
controlled regime."
Note the phrase "of course." Fukuyama is a leading American thinker,
a conservative, whose views are widely respected by powerful people.
And he is saying, almost with a shrug, that it's perfectly obvious
that legalization would do away with the most terrible problems
associated with illicit drugs.
But then politics rushes in. "While legalization has been proposed by
many people over the years," Fukuyama writes, "it has very little
chance of being enacted by Congress, and therefore is not for the
time being a realistic policy choice."
For those of us who think the criminal prohibition of the production,
sale, and possession of (some) drugs is the single most destructive
public policy of the last century, Fukuyama's argument may be
frustrating. First, he raises the possibility that serious policy
thinkers finally get it. Then, he dismisses legalization as a fantasy.
But keep some history in mind.
"There is as much chance of repealing the 18th Amendment as there is
for a hummingbird to fly to the planet Mars with the Washington
Monument tied to its tail," claimed Morris Sheppard, a U.S. Senator from Texas.
The 18th Amendment was the constitutional provision banning alcohol.
It was passed in 1920. Sheppard made his statement in 1930.
The 18th Amendment was repealed in 1933.
Sheppard wasn't the only one caught out by history. Far from it.
"They can never repeal it," boasted Congressman Andrew Volstead in 1921.
"I will never see the day when the 18th Amendment is out of the
Constitution of the U.S.," said Senator William Borah in 1929.
Prohibition's supporters had good reason to be confident.
Legalization wasn't merely unpopular. It required an amendment to the
constitution. "Thirteen states with a population less than that of
New York State alone can prevent repeal until Halley's Comet
returns," Clarence Darrow observed when Prohibition came into force
in 1920. "One might as well talk about his summer vacation on Mars."
So what happened? Prohibition failed, for one thing. It failed
blatantly, spectacularly. Instead of the sunny nation where children
grew up innocent of the evils of alcohol, the United States became
the land of bathtub gin and speakeasies. It also became the land of
opportunity for every thug looking to make big money, which
inevitably meant corruption and gangland violence on a scale never
before experienced.
But just as important was the coming of the Great Depression. While
the economy roared, most people were prepared to put up with an
idealistic, but futile crusade. But with banks crashing and
unemployment soaring, Prohibition felt like what it was -- an asinine
waste of time and money.
The solution became something obvious. It became something you
describe with the phrase "of course." Of course alcohol should be
legalized. Of course. In the end, Prohibition went quietly.
No, I don't think we are at our own "of course" moment,
notwithstanding Francis Fukuyama's "of course." But it is conceivable
we are heading that way.
In private conversations, I have heard many senior people say "of
course." I suspect the number of those thinking "of course" grows daily.
CNN's coverage of the bloodshed in Mexico has repeatedly raised
legalization as an option worth debating. That's a big change.
Critically, however, we lack the personal experience that people had
when they judged alcohol prohibition a failure. Most people today
don't know that drugs have not always been criminalized. Fewer still
know that when drugs were legal, they were not a source of ghettoes,
gang wars, and narco-states.
They do know, however, that developed countries spend tens of
billions of dollars every year trying to stamp out the illicit drug
trade. And they do know drugs are cheaper and more widely available than ever.
They also know we face an economic crisis. As in 1933, they may
conclude that there are better ways to spend precious tax dollars
than trying to enforce unenforceable laws.
The political barrier remains massive, but in politics even the
mightiest wall can turn to vapour with startling speed -- a fact
Fukuyama implicitly acknowledged when he said legalization was not a
realistic policy choice "for the time being."
It was impossible that alcohol would be legalized only a few years
before it was legalized. It was impossible that a black man would
become president of the United States in the year that the black
president of the United States was born.
The history of politics is stuffed with such transformation. Only 15
years ago, the NDP government of Ontario tore itself apart over a
modest plan to extend benefits to same-sex partners. Gay marriage?
Gay marriage was a fantasy. And today, that fantasy is law.
Never doubt that hummingbirds can fly to Mars.
Member Comments |
No member comments available...