MEDICINAL SMOKE FOR THE ECONOMY

By the time he crawls into bed tonight and snuggles in under the doona, Bob
Carr will doubtless have had reason to dwell on the aphorism that you should
never do anyone a really big favour because they will never forgive you for
it.

The prohibitionists were always going to howl when he announced the
Government's plan to make medicinal marijuana available to a select group of
recipients. But some dope activists have also quibbled with the Premier for
actually delivering on one of their most cherished and careworn demands. For
instance, there was a slightly awkward lack of grace in the response of the
Greens, who were monstered during the election campaign over their own drug
policies.

The prohibitionist cause was wounded by the lack of opposition from the
Opposition, which for once seemed happy to respond to a policy on its merits
rather than as a target of opportunity. It might seem surprising that such a
radical change in direction might come from such a cautious player as Carr,
and be warily accepted, if not endorsed by his conservative opponents. But
viewed in the context of drug law reform over the past two decades, this
week's announcement was not a radical change at all. It was more an
incremental advance on a very gradual drift towards the controlled
legalisation of cannabis.

In that sense, the prophets of doom are right. Carr may be sincere when he
brackets his new policy with rock-solid assurances that he will never
legalise marijuana, but the state long ago lost the battle against dope in
the war on drugs and most players will admit that, privately.

Ever since South Australia introduced its cannabis expiation notice scheme
in the 1980s, allowing busted smokers to avoid a criminal conviction by
paying a fine, state and territory governments have been very carefully and
quietly extracting themselves from the policy bind they created by trying to
totally suppress a $6 billion market with up to 6 million consumers (2
million of them being active and regular users).

Ironically enough it is economic rationalism, the bane of progressives
everywhere, which has led to the virtual capitulation of the state, at least
in the realm of personal use. The police still try to disrupt the large
commercial end of the dope industry. But resources are scarce and
hard-hearted finance ministers have come to begrudge the 10 per cent of
their law enforcement budget that is routinely wasted hassling small-time
users who might otherwise have no other contact with the justice system.

Market forces have triumphed where marches, smoke-ins, and that loveable
Nimbin Kombi van with the enormous papier-mache turd on the roof have all
failed. Six billion dollars cannot be stopped. It can't even be argued with.
A huge dope bust that introduces scarcity into that enormous market serves
only to drive up the value of the surviving product, thereby tempting new
suppliers into the game or encouraging existing growers to increase their
crop size.

And new suppliers there are by the thousands because of the spread of
hydroponic technology. Where plantations once stretched over swathes of
forests and were relatively easy to detect from the air, hydroponic crops
are easily hidden and offer the grower a much greater yield through higher
potency. If the set-up is small enough it is almost undetectable.

As much as the dope activists might grizzle about the slim pickings for them
this week, in the end they'll get what they want because no politician wants
to pick a fight with a $6 billion industry.

John Birmingham is the author of Dopeland, published last month.