THE TARGETS WE CAN SEE

Given the way this city is chewing away at the methadone program in North
Surrey, you'd think it was the very root of Whalley's evil.

Not exactly. But it is tangible, making it an easier target than the far
more elusive problems of urban decay, crack cocaine addiction, transiency
and poverty.

You can see a methadone dispensary. You can see its clients. If you shut it
down by raising the business licence fee from $195 to $10,000, it looks
like something is being done.

Junkies aren't known for making the best decisions, such as occasionally
selling their methadone instead of using it as prescribed.

Therefore, if you can force them to take their methadone, it looks like
you've done something else important, by keeping a drug off the streets.

In reality, compared to the carloads of crack, methamphetamines and other
potent illicit pharmaceuticals out there, the impact of a handful of
not-so-ex-addicts peddling their meth is miniscule.

According to provincial health authorities, there were only 20 deaths in
B.C. last year related to methadone use, among 8,000 people on the program.
That's .25 per cent. Hardly a crisis.

But, possibly spurred on by a recent New York Times article on the subject
circulating city hall (relevance please?), staffers cooked up a proposed
bylaw to clamp down on this newly revealed meth trade travesty by banning
all "carried" prescriptions.

(On Monday night, council wisely sent the flawed decree back to the drawing
board).

As a doctor pointed out last week, banning "carries" just creates a huge
inconvenience for the long-time methadone patient, who instead of being
allowed to take a week's supply home, will now have to report to the
pharmacist to get the daily dosage.

As those pesky doctors will tell you, going on methadone is about
incentives. Incentives to get clean, and stay that way.

A long-time recovering addict on methadone can function normally. Some hold
down jobs. Raise a family. Contribute to society. An ex-junkie is generally
an ex-problem.

Take away the incentives by making it difficult to stay on the program, or
cause a recovering addict to lose his or her job, and some will pick up the
spike again. That means more desperate souls back on the street, willing to
do just about anything to get cash to feed the habit, like breaking into
your house, or stealing your car.

When all the methadone dispensaries have been shut down, and all the
recovering addicts are made to line up somewhere else to get their
medicine, Whalley's chronic ills - the crime, the crack addicts, the
hookers, the squalid shacks and the ruined lives - will still be there.

Before lashing out at what we can see, perhaps we should determine exactly
what it is we're looking at.