FEDERAL SMOKESCREEN

Hold it right there. Before you fire up an extra joint or two to celebrate
federal Justice Minister Martin Cauchon's plans to decriminalize the simple
possession of marijuana, take a minute to consider what's really being
proposed.

We do, of course, believe that Cauchon's stated intentions -- if they're
actually sincere -- are a step in the right direction. What he's just
signalled, on the heels of a Dec. 12 parliamentary committee report that
recommended decriminalization, is that within the first four months of
2003, he'll introduce legislation to the effect that those found with small
amounts of weed will only be fined and will not be charged criminally.

What a small amount consists of is yet to be determined, though the
committee did recommend a limit of 30 grams (about an ounce, or, say, 50
average-sized joints), and also said people should also be able to grow
that much for their personal consumption.

Overall, this would be an eminently sensible approach to regulating the
drug, given the amount of police and court time eaten up by small-time
marijuana offences, not to mention how unevenly simple possession laws are
currently enforced and prosecuted across the country.

If legislation actually happens (and there's reason to think Cauchon is
bluffing), recreational users will indeed have something to cheer about in
the new year.

But the troubling part is that medical marijuana users, or federal
exemptees -- the people legally entitled to smoke the stuff to alleviate
the symptoms of severe illness -- are probably going to be left out of
Cauchon's march to freedom. And that, given the legal hoops they've already
jumped through, is a national shame.

Under decriminalization, supplying or trafficking in marijuana would still
be a criminal offence. Now, some pot advocates will argue that, overall, it
makes no sense to decriminalize demand without decriminalizing supply. But
this especially holds true when it comes to medical-marijuana users. They
need a high-quality, consistent source of the drug -- the kind of supply
offered by the compassion clubs and centres that have sprung up around the
country, who distribute despite the risk of sudden police busts (you may
recall the controversial, out-of-the-blue bust that closed down the Toronto
Compassion Centre this summer).

Indeed, medical users won the right to toke in a landmark 2000 court
ruling. Yet by all accounts, in practice, they're still screwed.

Federal health minister Anne McClellan backtracked this spring on the
issue, saying she was experiencing some "discomfort" at allowing exemptees
access to the government weed that's been grown in an old mine in Flin
Flon, Man., without years' worth of scientific tests or some such nonsense
(a court case was launched in Ontario this fall to force the federal
government to distribute it). And we note with dismay the recent stories
about a cancer patient who fought to have local police return his
home-grown plants.

So yes, Minister Cauchon, move ahead with decriminalization this spring.
But while you're at it, make sure your cabinet colleagues get their
collective ass in gear and distribute the weed that's already been grown
under their auspices.

Most importantly, as part of your pending legislation, you need to legalize
supply, especially in the case of compassion clubs, those organizations
dedicated to providing safe, consistent cannabis to people who desperately
need it and are legally able to have it. Medical users have made a lot of
noise before, and they'll make it again, no doubt. If that doesn't work,
they'll continue to use the courts to ensure their legal rights are put
into practice. But they absolutely shouldn't have to.