A WAR WE JUST CAN'T WIN

Our government has a daunting task ahead of it, for the network of
terrorism support is vaster than we could have imagined.

Just last weekend, for instance, there were likely dozens, if not hundreds
of raucous meetings held right here in Austin to further the cause of
terrorism abroad. Disgustingly, many of these supporters are probably UT
students themselves.

Football fans around the country were informed Sunday during the Super Bowl
that buying drugs supports terrorist activities. These gravely somber
commercials were broadcast in an apparent attempt to unite the causes of
the War on Drugs and the war on terrorism. Not since World War II, when
America was faced with fighting in both Europe and Japan, have we had to
brace ourselves for such a two-front assault.

Nancy Reagan herself could never have dreamed this one up. Surely it makes
sense to capitalize on Americans' newfound patriotism by telling us that
the dime-bag profits the neighborhood dealer makes eventually wind up
bankrolling Osama's new shipment of AK-47s. It introduces an entirely new
way to "just say no." Instead of simply pointing out the potentially
addictive and harmful effects of drugs, you can now scream "terrorist
lover!" and get a direct line to Homeland Security adviser Tom Ridge. How
could such an advertising campaign possibly go wrong?

In every way, it turns out. For one thing, the commercials' lofty soap-box
stance was laughable. Both the war on terrorism and drug abuse are serious
subjects, but joining the two into one omnipotent evil is absurd. Granted,
the premise might be true, but surely an even bigger support system to
foreign terrorism are the millions of barrels of gasoline consumed in this
country every day. The "gasoline consumption supports terrorism" commercial
campaign probably isn't forthcoming though.

The war on terrorism is many things that the War on Drugs is not. For
starters, the war on terrorism is justified, since wiping out terrorism
would undeniably benefit the entire world. The war on terrorism pursues a
definite, if evasive, enemy. Perhaps most importantly, however, is that the
war on terrorism, at least this far, has been wildly successful. The War on
Drugs has not.

Americans have been told that our part in the war on terrorism is to simply
return to life as usual: Go to work, spend time with your family, and spend
your money. But now there is a rather large exception being made: If you
used drugs before, you can't now, or else you are supporting terrorism. The
problem is that most Americans readily support the gung-ho attitude of the
Bush administration against international terrorists. But now they are
overstepping their bounds, as big government tends to do, and are passing
moral judgments by telling us what we should and should not do. It is
ironic that American tax dollars were spent to tell us what not to spend
the rest of our money on. Can non-drug users expect a refund check in the mail?

The point of advertising is to persuade the target audience to accept your
message, whether that message is "buy this product" or "visit this Web
site." But it is unlikely at best that John Doe is going to put the crack
pipe down because he feels guilty for supporting terrorists. It is equally
unlikely that someone will pass on an ecstasy pill because they don't want
to support terrorism; more likely, they will decline because of strongly
held principles and convictions formed even before Sept. 11.

This campaign amounts to a waste of taxpayer dollars, specifically to the
tune of $1.6 million dollars every 30 seconds, that could be better spent
upgrading outdated military equipment or beefing up national intelligence
assets. But it does serve as a prime example of "good intention, bad
judgment." While there might be a good message behind it, it probably rings
hollow in the ears of someone who loves and supports America, all the while
passing around a bong amongst friends.

Probably, if the commercials' designers had thought the matter through,
they would have realized that such assertions are overstretched and silly.
Perhaps a war on mediocre advertising schools should be our next agenda.