Cannabis: Throwing the first stone

The government's £2.2m campaign against cannabis has again brought the long-running debate over the drug into the spotlight. The campaign itself is arguably better than some previous campaigns from the "just say no" era, at least attempting to engage with the reality of young people's experience by highlighting the reasons why people use the drug as well as some of the dangers. Drugs education as a part of a broader public health strategy to reduce drug related harms is obviously a good thing; people need to be aware of risks associated with certain drugs and related behaviors so they can make responsible choices – in the same way they need to be informed about diet, sexual health and so on.

The problem with drugs education historically, and the cannabis issue in particular, is that it has evolved in the context of a highly emotive public debate, with the drugs issue subsumed within law and order populism, and generally characterised by "tough on drugs" political posturing, opportunism, and moralising, rather than public health principles and evidence of effectiveness.

Symptomatic of this distortion of rational policy making has been the seemingly never-ending cannabis classification saga, the symbolic importance of which, within the "culture wars," vastly outstrips the policy relevance of what is a fairly minor tweak to enforcement practice. Unfortunately, the public and media discourse around cannabis has witnessed the mistaken conflation of the debate around the harms of cannabis use, and the debate around what the policy response to those harms should be. Away from the sensationalist media coverage, scaremongering and political grandstanding, there is no evidence to show that increasing criminal penalties for a given drug is associated with a fall in use or overall harm. Unfortunately there is also little evidence to show that mass media drug awareness campaigns have been very effective, or effective at all, even if they can serve the political need of being "seen to be doing something."

In contrast, it is often the case that increasing enforcement efforts and penalties will have unintended negative consequences. For cannabis, these have included pushing the market towards increasingly potent (and profitable) versions of the drug – the "skunkification" of UK cannabis use. This is ironic, given that it is this trend, and the media panic around "skunk" in particular, that is often used to argue for still more repressive responses.

Another consequence is the blanket criminalisation of a substantial minority of young people, the impacts of which can be severe – should you be unlucky enough to get a criminal record, it will arguably be more of a risk to your future health and wellbeing than the risks presented by occasional cannabis use. Current enforcement policy is a blunt instrument that fails to make a distinction between the problematic and non-problematic use of cannabis. Of course there are dangers associated with cannabis, as with all drugs, and the only way to avoid them is to avoid the substance. But the majority of users are occasional and moderate and do not experience significant problems – this is not a "pro-drug" statement, merely a factual observation. Even for those that do have problems (and the risks are increased by using in teen years, heavy and/or frequent use, and for those with pre-exsting mental health problems) a criminal justice response is obviously inappropriate. People with drug problems need help from medical professionals, not the criminal justice system.

The entire punitive classification system is not only confusing, it is fundamentally flawed. Translating generalisations about harms to an entire population into penalties for individuals is unscientific and unjust. It cannot be ethical to increase the penalties for the majority because a small proportion of users experience difficulties or mental health problems. Criminal law is supposed to prevent crime, not “send out” public health messages. When this has been tried it has been spectacularly ineffective, as the dramatic increase of drug use over the last 40 years demonstrates. Whether Frank can do a better job remains to be seen.

The overwhelming criminal justice focus of policy has been desperately counter-productive; making drugs more dangerous, not less, starving public health interventions of resources and simultaneously fostering distrust of health messages among young people – who are treated as stupid, criminals, or both. This issue must be reclaimed from the drug war ideolgues and returned to its rightful home in the public health arena. Until this happens, and a serious debate begins about regulating cannabis production and supply within an appropriate legal framework, we are unlikely to see policy have much impact on cannabis harms – other than making them worse.