PREVENTION KEY TO WINNING METH WAR

Tom McNamara has been a soldier in the war on drugs for decades, including
duty as an undercover cop infiltrating outlaw motorcycle gangs. He's no
softy. So his take on battling Illinois' methamphetamine scourge may
surprise some folks.

"We're not going to arrest our way out of this problem," McNamara asserts
with a terseness that belies far-reaching implications our political
leaders must grasp to deal intelligently with this highly addictive, too
readily attainable poison that batters the brain, poses unique threats to
public safety and turns parents into demons that actualize a child's
nightmares.

For several years, most state leaders and lawmakers underestimated the
danger, dismissing it as a phenomenon among modern-day hillbillies
emulating old moonshiners in the backwoods of southern Illinois. They know
better now. Meth is being manufactured, snorted and mainlined in Chicago
apartments and in affluent suburbs; it defies socio-economic as well as
geographic boundaries.

As comprehension of the drug's reach and devastation has increased,
Attorney General Lisa Madigan and rural lawmakers have found it easier to
rally support for legislation to restrict access to the cold-medicine
ingredients that make it incredibly simple to cook up a batch. Under
Madigan's leadership, the state has toughened penalties for users and
makers and fashioned measures to facilitate prosecution. Law enforcement,
especially where manufacturing and use have become rife, has mobilized.

But what citizens and political leaders must come to realize is that
attacking the supply side is woefully inadequate. As long as demand
persists, meth manufacturers, distributors and users will seek and find
ways to meet it - and our cops, courts, prisons and child welfare agencies
will continue to be overwhelmed.

Some in key roles, including Madigan, comprehend this. They understand the
urgency of exponentially bolstering prevention and treatment initiatives.

They recognize the need for unprecedented cooperation among people and
organizations that often have scrapped while scraping for their share of
tax dollars. McNamara, who spearheaded narcotics enforcement efforts in
southern Illinois for years and now focuses on problems unique to meth,
points to the mix of participants at a recent conference. Joining cops,
prosecutors and judges among the more than 500 attendees were social
workers, treatment specialists, health care providers, educators and
recovering addicts.

"Partnerships are absolutely essential," McNamara says.

However, it will take uniquely strong cohesion and conviction among the
conferees and their counterparts to persuade the governor and legislators
to substantially invest in prevention and treatment given the state's
fiscal stress and pressures for spending in other priority areas. Those on
the front lines must enlighten our top state officials and their
constituents about the perniciousness of the addiction and, just as
importantly, about the potential for taming it.

Because of dramatic changes in brain chemistry, the recovery period for
meth addicts is unusually lengthy. Intense craving can be triggered by
anything from a scene in a movie to a time of the day or week once devoted
to partying. But pilot programs employing creative avoidance strategies,
dealing with underlying mental health problems and emphasizing exercise
have proven successful.

Those programs are costly. Yet, they take far less of a toll in both
financial and human terms than arresting, prosecuting and incarcerating
addicts; cleaning up meth labs; gingerly removing debris that can explode
upon contact, and caring for the abused and neglected children of users.

That message must be driven home in the State House. If it takes hold, it
will mean a more effective war on meth and, incidentally, on other
devastating drugs.

Mike Lawrence heads the Public Policy Institute at Southern Illinois
University. His e-mail address is mlawrenc@siu.edu.