ROADBLOCK IN P WAR HAS TO GO

By any yardstick, Queensland's Project STOP has been a successful tool
in the battle against the P scourge. Information gathered since late
2005, when a database tracking pharmacy pseudoephedrine sales was
introduced, has led to charges for trafficking, supply and production,
and the detection of clandestine drug laboratories. The database has
served to reduce access to P and to act as a deterrent. Its success
has, unsurprisingly, prompted the Australian Government to allocate
funding for a nationwide extension. Given equally alarming P
statistics in this country, it would seem only sensible for New
Zealand pharmacists, the police and health authorities to develop a
similar drug-watch system.

Matters are not quite that simple, however, as reported in the Herald
series "The Price of P". Under Project STOP, the driver's licence
details of anyone buying drugs such as decongestants containing
pseudoephedrine, which are used to make P, are recorded. The police
are sent alerts from the database when repeat purchases are made. The
problem with duplicating this in New Zealand lies in the fact that
driver's licences cannot, it seems, be used that way. They can be
demanded only for the purposes of owners identifying themselves as
licensed drivers.

The architects of this country's privacy law doubtless saw good reason
for this. They fretted that the photo licence could be a Trojan Horse
for a national ID card because drivers would be required to carry it
at all times. It could, the Privacy Commissioner at the time, Bruce
Slane, argued, become standard practice for government agencies, the
police and retailers to request it for identification. Their view
prevailed, and asking for a driver's licence as a means of ID is not
permitted.

In practice, of course, the licence has, in many instances, become a
de facto ID card. People choose regularly to use it for a range of
activities, such as opening bank accounts or obtaining Inland Revenue
numbers. In this informal way, New Zealand has developed along similar
lines to other constituencies that have photo driver's licences. But
in a formal arena, such as a pharmacy-based database, the privacy
provisions peculiar to the New Zealand licence become a stumbling
block. Whatever the good intentions of the law, they, in this
instance, run contrary to common sense.

Clearly, a way must be found around this roadblock. It takes only a
moment's thought to recognise the value of the Project STOP database.
Important support is provided to pharmacists when they are making
judgments about the supply of products containing pseudoephedrine.
They can make informed decisions, and avoid value judgments based on
superficial qualities, such as physical appearance. At the same time,
sales of pseudoephedrine products are recorded, and the police and
other authorities can track the movements of drug runners.

Since the project began, Queensland police have reported a 23 per cent
reduction in the number of P labs being discovered. The deterrent
value of the database is apparent. Their New Zealand counterparts face
a much more difficult task. Rather than being alerted by a database,
they must request handwritten or faxed information from pharmacies.
Given the extent of the problem and the need for a rapid response,
this is nonsensical.

The informal use of driver's licences for ID purposes suggests privacy
concerns have been overstated. People see the licence not so much in
terms of potential peril as in terms of its practicality. They would
also be more than comfortable to see it used in the fight against the
P epidemic.