TARGETING TEMPTATION

The Puritanical Impulse Behind Alcohol Vaporizer Bans And Anti-Drug Vaccines

Since it was introduced to Americans last summer, the European fad of
inhaling liquor vapor through a contraption known as AWOL (for Alcohol
Without Liquid) has not exactly taken the country by storm.

But AWOL's absence has not stopped legislators from trying to ban it. "It's
not something I wanted to see proliferate throughout the state," a
co-sponsor of Florida's proposed ban explained to the The Miami Herald last
month. "We're getting ahead of the curve here." Not as far ahead as Kansas
and Colorado legislators, who voted to ban the alcohol vaporizers while
their Florida counterparts were still dithering.

At least a dozen states are mulling AWOL bans, so if you're waiting to
inhale, it may be a long wait. The objections to AWOL reflect a
longstanding American discomfort with intoxication and, more generally,
with pleasure that seems to come too easily.

One of AWOL's main selling points is freedom from hangovers, which its
detractors consider an invitation to excess: If you're not miserable the
next day, how do you know when you've had too much? In its defense, AWOL's
U.S. distributor says the machine "has a built-in safety device because it
takes about 20 minutes to inhale one vaporizer shot of alcohol (about 1/2
actual shot size)." The company also quotes a British Health Department
official's statement that there's no evidence AWOL "poses particular risks
to the user over and above the risks that may be posed by consuming an
equivalent amount of alcohol in an equivalent time period in a more
traditional way." Perhaps surprisingly, distillers are among the most vocal
opponents of AWOL, which does not fit well with their desire to project a
responsible image or their attempts to market brands based on taste.

Peter Cressy, president of the Distilled Spirits Council of the United
States, told the Herald AWOL's marketing "would strongly suggest that the
purpose of this device is to get a buzz. We don't think getting a buzz is a
good idea." That remark reminded me of an interview that ABC's John Stossel
conducted several years ago with Thomas Constantine, then head of the Drug
Enforcement Administration. Constantine claimed illegal drugs are different
from alcohol because people use them "for a single purpose...the purpose of
becoming high," which is "wrong" and "dangerous." Stossel responded that
"when I have a glass of gin or vodka, I'm doing it to get a little buzz on.
That buzz is bad?" Yes, according to the puritanical outlook that continues
to have a strong influence on American politics, that buzz is bad "so bad
that people who are in the business of helping us chemically adjust our
moods and minds have to pretend they're not. That's why distillers are so
uncomfortable at seeing their products consumed in a manner reminiscent of
marijuana and opium, through a device that looks like a high-tech hookah.
This suspicion of intoxication, of unearned pleasure, is also evident in
the plans inspired by research on "vaccines" that are aimed at discouraging
drug use by taking all the fun out of it. The anti-drug vaccines, which are
being developed by several companies, stimulate the production of
antibodies that bind with psychoactive molecules and prevent them from
passing the blood-brain barrier. This month Zurich-based Cytos
Biotechnology announced clinical trial results that suggest its
anti-nicotine vaccine "which is only partially effective at neutralizing
the drug's effects and stimulates a stronger immune response in some people
than in others "may be modestly helpful for smokers trying to quit. But
drug warriors in the U.S. and Britain dream of going much further than such
voluntary self-help, imagining vaccines they could force on drug offenders
or use to inoculate children against addiction as adults. The premise
underlying such schemes is that the best way to prevent sin is to eliminate
temptation, that desire should be neither moderated nor resisted but
suppressed. In the case of gluttony, for example, the solution would be to
preserve hunger for the sake of physical survival but eliminate any
enjoyment of taste so as to discourage overeating and obesity. This does
not seem like a good way to inculcate virtue.

Nor is it terribly practical: Life is full of temptations, and it is
doubtful that the government will be able to inoculate us against all of
them. More to the point, who would want to live in a world where it did?