News (Media Awareness Project) - UK: Up In Smoke |
Title: | UK: Up In Smoke |
Published On: | 2001-12-13 |
Source: | Guardian, The (UK) |
Fetched On: | 2008-01-25 02:12:43 |
UP IN SMOKE
The appointment of Britain's first drugs tsar four years ago raised hopes
of a radical policy shift. But ministerial pressure for a hardline image
stifled talk of reform. Keith Hellawell's former deputy, Mike Trace, tells
Alan Travis what went wrong
When Tony Blair appointed his first US-style drugs tsar, Downing Street was
happy to see the tabloid press portray Keith Hellawell, the former West
Yorkshire chief constable, and his deputy Mike Trace as Britain's new "drug
busters". Many of those involved in fighting drug abuse had different
expectations. They knew both men as effective campaigners who were prepared
to think radically.
There were hopes that their arrival might trigger fundamental change in
Britain's drugs policy. But such hopes were dashed, and reformers had to
wait four years - until David Blunkett's arrival at the Home Office - to
see any movement. Now, in his first media interview since leaving the job
of deputy drugs tsar, Trace has given the Guardian an inside account of
what went wrong.
Things were fine for the first six months after his and Hellawell's
appointment in October 1997, he says. "Our instinct was that the most
important thing was to develop a managerially strong drugs strategy. We
didn't want to hit the ground running with big political controversies. We
wanted to consult the field on sensible treatment and prevention policies."
Looking back, Trace, a prison drugs charity worker before his appointment,
thinks that was right. "During that period, Alastair Campbell [Tony Blair's
press secretary] and the No 10 machine said they wanted us to 'think
outside the box', but changes to the law on drugs were not on the cards. It
was no coincidence that, in the days following our appointment, two
separate cabinet ministers made speeches ruling that out."
Trace says that Blair and Campbell were keen to maintain the "we won't go
soft on drugs" media image. But behind the scenes, No 10 was surprisingly
happy to let the pair get on with the job - "as long as Keith gave a speech
every now and again along the lines of, 'Trust me, I'm a copper.'"
As the new drugs strategy developed, serious new Treasury funds became
available to develop prevention and treatment services. But as the money
began to flow, and Hellawell's media profile grew, his and Trace's shared
ambition for more radical change went out of the window.
"That's when Keith and I fell apart," recalls Trace. "I don't think
anything particular went wrong. We carried on with our agenda, but it was
clear that what I had hoped to move on to once we had established the
strategy - the issue of what to do about cannabis, for example - was not
possible.
"The political, ministerial atmosphere became more restrictive. Keith had
decided that sticking to a line of 'saving the UK from the scourge of
drugs' was more popular with ministers."
The tone of Hellawell's speeches began to change and, privately, he was no
longer willing to discuss more radical reforms. Trace had hoped they would
move on to measures that concentrated on reducing the harmful effects of
drugs and so downgrade what he calls the "doomed attempt" to halve drug use.
"The crucial balance in drug policy is the relative prioritisation of
resources aimed at, respectively, reducing the use of drugs or reducing the
harm caused by their use. Despite setting off in the right direction, it is
now clear to me that we are still spending too much on the former."
The relationship particularly foundered, says Trace, when the drugs tsar
"shamelessly" used a New Zealand study on the controversial "gateway
theory" as the basis for concern about cannabis - despite all the evidence
to the contrary.
In October 1999, the scene inside Whitehall changed when Mo Mowlam was
appointed the new minister in charge of the Cabinet Office's drug
coordination unit. She had a strong gut feeling that something had to
change. "She had a very liberal approach," says Trace. "She just felt she
wanted to do something to move in line with public opinion, particularly on
the medicinal use of cannabis. Key ministerial colleagues Jack Straw [then
home secretary] and Alan Milburn [health secretary] were not comfortable
with this liberal instinct and opposed Mo's attempts to move in that
direction."
The policy leaders got on with the work involved in expanding the drug
treatment programme because it was one of the few things they could all
agree on. But matters came to a head over publication of the Police
Foundation report on drugs law reform. The inquiry, chaired by Viscountess
Runciman, called for relaxation of the laws on cannabis and ecstasy.
Trace says that Straw took control of the government's response. "As
history will tell, we rebutted its key recommendations within 24 hours," he
says. "Mo was too much of a loyalist really to make a stink about that, but
basically she did not have a say in it, although she was nominally in
charge of drugs policy."
It was the only time they all sat down in Blair's Downing Street parlour to
discuss drugs policy. The prime minister told Mowlam that he knew she had
strong views, and might even turn out to be right, but he was too concerned
about how a liberal line might play with the press and public. Blair
indicated that his personal sympathies lay closer to Straw's position. "End
of chat, and that was it for the next two years," says Trace.
Mowlam had asked the Cabinet Office drugs unit to respond to the Police
Foundation report by drawing up a paper with a full cost-benefit analysis
of drugs legalisation and taxation, including heroin. It was dubbed the
"nuclear option".
Straw had countered with a request that the civil servants take a "low
level routine look" instead at the possible impact of a slightly lighter
touch in enforcing the ban on cannabis. Mowlam responded, in turn, by
arguing for Straw's paper to spell out the implications of
decriminalisation as well.
Was the nuclear-option paper ever written? "No - Jack won," says Trace.
"What the officials actually did was a relatively low key paper on how
many million quid could be saved if we arrested fewer people for cannabis.
The committee looking at the Police Foundation's recommendations never got
a paper back on the reclassification of cannabis."
If Mowlam had lost the battle to look at decriminalisation of cannabis, she
persevered for another few months with efforts to try to bring forward its
use for therapeutic purposes. "We had another six to nine months of Mo
trying to bring up medicinal cannabis and of being ignored," says Trace.
"It contributed to her general view that it was time to leave and that it
was no fun any more. It ended some months after the Police Foundation
report with Mo writing a letter to Tony Blair, saying she recognised that
most colleagues did not agree with her on this, but time would prove her
right."
One of the major tasks for Hellawell was national coordination of
government drugs policy. For years, the British effort - as in many other
countries - has been weakened by constant battles between criminal justice
agencies and the Department of Health over the policy aims.
"It had become clear to us that having outsiders like us trying to run the
show was not going very well," says Trace. "In my view, the civil service
refused to work for us. It was obvious by the time the [2001 general]
election was coming up that having outsiders with no direct powers,
overseeing the implementation of a complex interdepartmental programme, was
not working."
In the event, Blunkett's Home Office took over the role of the Cabinet
Office's drugs unit after the election. Hellawell was kept on as a special
adviser, but in a reduced role, trying to make a difference at
international level. Blunkett took the step that Straw had been unwilling
to do and announced his support for reclassifying cannabis so that it would
no longer be an arrestable offence to possess a small quantity.
What of a final verdict on the drugs tsar? "Keith, in the first year,
worked like a dog and was committed to what he was trying to achieve; I
think that was a great time for him," says Trace, who is now performance
director at the national treatment agency, set up by the government to
raise standards of treatment for substance misuse.
"As time passed, I think he became disengaged from the hard slog of
implementation, concentrating on appearances only. It is a shame because
there is more to him than that. In the last year he attracted a lot of
criticism. The drug strategy we developed contained some crucial programmes
that need to be followed through. It would be disappointing if this work -
reducing drug-related crime, health problems and social exclusion - loses
momentum under the new arrangements."
The appointment of Britain's first drugs tsar four years ago raised hopes
of a radical policy shift. But ministerial pressure for a hardline image
stifled talk of reform. Keith Hellawell's former deputy, Mike Trace, tells
Alan Travis what went wrong
When Tony Blair appointed his first US-style drugs tsar, Downing Street was
happy to see the tabloid press portray Keith Hellawell, the former West
Yorkshire chief constable, and his deputy Mike Trace as Britain's new "drug
busters". Many of those involved in fighting drug abuse had different
expectations. They knew both men as effective campaigners who were prepared
to think radically.
There were hopes that their arrival might trigger fundamental change in
Britain's drugs policy. But such hopes were dashed, and reformers had to
wait four years - until David Blunkett's arrival at the Home Office - to
see any movement. Now, in his first media interview since leaving the job
of deputy drugs tsar, Trace has given the Guardian an inside account of
what went wrong.
Things were fine for the first six months after his and Hellawell's
appointment in October 1997, he says. "Our instinct was that the most
important thing was to develop a managerially strong drugs strategy. We
didn't want to hit the ground running with big political controversies. We
wanted to consult the field on sensible treatment and prevention policies."
Looking back, Trace, a prison drugs charity worker before his appointment,
thinks that was right. "During that period, Alastair Campbell [Tony Blair's
press secretary] and the No 10 machine said they wanted us to 'think
outside the box', but changes to the law on drugs were not on the cards. It
was no coincidence that, in the days following our appointment, two
separate cabinet ministers made speeches ruling that out."
Trace says that Blair and Campbell were keen to maintain the "we won't go
soft on drugs" media image. But behind the scenes, No 10 was surprisingly
happy to let the pair get on with the job - "as long as Keith gave a speech
every now and again along the lines of, 'Trust me, I'm a copper.'"
As the new drugs strategy developed, serious new Treasury funds became
available to develop prevention and treatment services. But as the money
began to flow, and Hellawell's media profile grew, his and Trace's shared
ambition for more radical change went out of the window.
"That's when Keith and I fell apart," recalls Trace. "I don't think
anything particular went wrong. We carried on with our agenda, but it was
clear that what I had hoped to move on to once we had established the
strategy - the issue of what to do about cannabis, for example - was not
possible.
"The political, ministerial atmosphere became more restrictive. Keith had
decided that sticking to a line of 'saving the UK from the scourge of
drugs' was more popular with ministers."
The tone of Hellawell's speeches began to change and, privately, he was no
longer willing to discuss more radical reforms. Trace had hoped they would
move on to measures that concentrated on reducing the harmful effects of
drugs and so downgrade what he calls the "doomed attempt" to halve drug use.
"The crucial balance in drug policy is the relative prioritisation of
resources aimed at, respectively, reducing the use of drugs or reducing the
harm caused by their use. Despite setting off in the right direction, it is
now clear to me that we are still spending too much on the former."
The relationship particularly foundered, says Trace, when the drugs tsar
"shamelessly" used a New Zealand study on the controversial "gateway
theory" as the basis for concern about cannabis - despite all the evidence
to the contrary.
In October 1999, the scene inside Whitehall changed when Mo Mowlam was
appointed the new minister in charge of the Cabinet Office's drug
coordination unit. She had a strong gut feeling that something had to
change. "She had a very liberal approach," says Trace. "She just felt she
wanted to do something to move in line with public opinion, particularly on
the medicinal use of cannabis. Key ministerial colleagues Jack Straw [then
home secretary] and Alan Milburn [health secretary] were not comfortable
with this liberal instinct and opposed Mo's attempts to move in that
direction."
The policy leaders got on with the work involved in expanding the drug
treatment programme because it was one of the few things they could all
agree on. But matters came to a head over publication of the Police
Foundation report on drugs law reform. The inquiry, chaired by Viscountess
Runciman, called for relaxation of the laws on cannabis and ecstasy.
Trace says that Straw took control of the government's response. "As
history will tell, we rebutted its key recommendations within 24 hours," he
says. "Mo was too much of a loyalist really to make a stink about that, but
basically she did not have a say in it, although she was nominally in
charge of drugs policy."
It was the only time they all sat down in Blair's Downing Street parlour to
discuss drugs policy. The prime minister told Mowlam that he knew she had
strong views, and might even turn out to be right, but he was too concerned
about how a liberal line might play with the press and public. Blair
indicated that his personal sympathies lay closer to Straw's position. "End
of chat, and that was it for the next two years," says Trace.
Mowlam had asked the Cabinet Office drugs unit to respond to the Police
Foundation report by drawing up a paper with a full cost-benefit analysis
of drugs legalisation and taxation, including heroin. It was dubbed the
"nuclear option".
Straw had countered with a request that the civil servants take a "low
level routine look" instead at the possible impact of a slightly lighter
touch in enforcing the ban on cannabis. Mowlam responded, in turn, by
arguing for Straw's paper to spell out the implications of
decriminalisation as well.
Was the nuclear-option paper ever written? "No - Jack won," says Trace.
"What the officials actually did was a relatively low key paper on how
many million quid could be saved if we arrested fewer people for cannabis.
The committee looking at the Police Foundation's recommendations never got
a paper back on the reclassification of cannabis."
If Mowlam had lost the battle to look at decriminalisation of cannabis, she
persevered for another few months with efforts to try to bring forward its
use for therapeutic purposes. "We had another six to nine months of Mo
trying to bring up medicinal cannabis and of being ignored," says Trace.
"It contributed to her general view that it was time to leave and that it
was no fun any more. It ended some months after the Police Foundation
report with Mo writing a letter to Tony Blair, saying she recognised that
most colleagues did not agree with her on this, but time would prove her
right."
One of the major tasks for Hellawell was national coordination of
government drugs policy. For years, the British effort - as in many other
countries - has been weakened by constant battles between criminal justice
agencies and the Department of Health over the policy aims.
"It had become clear to us that having outsiders like us trying to run the
show was not going very well," says Trace. "In my view, the civil service
refused to work for us. It was obvious by the time the [2001 general]
election was coming up that having outsiders with no direct powers,
overseeing the implementation of a complex interdepartmental programme, was
not working."
In the event, Blunkett's Home Office took over the role of the Cabinet
Office's drugs unit after the election. Hellawell was kept on as a special
adviser, but in a reduced role, trying to make a difference at
international level. Blunkett took the step that Straw had been unwilling
to do and announced his support for reclassifying cannabis so that it would
no longer be an arrestable offence to possess a small quantity.
What of a final verdict on the drugs tsar? "Keith, in the first year,
worked like a dog and was committed to what he was trying to achieve; I
think that was a great time for him," says Trace, who is now performance
director at the national treatment agency, set up by the government to
raise standards of treatment for substance misuse.
"As time passed, I think he became disengaged from the hard slog of
implementation, concentrating on appearances only. It is a shame because
there is more to him than that. In the last year he attracted a lot of
criticism. The drug strategy we developed contained some crucial programmes
that need to be followed through. It would be disappointing if this work -
reducing drug-related crime, health problems and social exclusion - loses
momentum under the new arrangements."
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