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Addictions

No, drug prohibition is not ‘white supremacy’

Published

3 months ago

14 minute read

From Break The Needle

British Columbia’s top doctor released a report arguing that the legalization of all drugs combats “racism” and “colonialism.” That’s historically illiterate.

The notion that drug prohibition is inherently racist has become exceedingly popular within the harm reduction world and, by extension, inside many public health institutions and graduate programs. Yet anyone with even a cursory knowledge of history can see that this is absurd. Societies from all across the world have long understood the dangers of addictive substances and supported efforts to criminalize them—so why is this being ignored?

Though the “prohibition is racist” movement usually flies under the public’s radar, it was thrust into the limelight earlier this month when B.C.’s top doctor, Bonnie Henry, released a report calling for the legalization of all drugs. Not only did Henry recommend that dangerous substances—including meth, cocaine and fentanyl—be sold in stores much like alcohol and cannabis, her team asserted that prohibitionist policies are “based on a history of racism, white supremacy, paternalism, colonialism, classism and human rights violations.”

One would hope such sweeping declarations would have been backed with fulsome arguments and historical references, but that didn’t happen here.

Instead, the report simply emphasized how Canada’s original drug laws, dating back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries, were motivated by racist animus against Chinese immigrants. As opium was popular among these immigrants, the drug was believed to pose a special moral threat to white society and was among the first substances to be harshly policed. This, in turn, gave the state a new legal tool to harass Chinese Canadians and, in some cases, deport them.

After briefly explaining this point, Henry’s report concluded that, “Over time, the moral panic associated with drug use expanded to target many more groups of people, including Indigenous people, Black people, women, people of colour, and people of lower socioeconomic status.” This extrapolation was presented as a self-evident fact, without any evidence or citations to explain or substantiate it.

Henry’s recommendations were immediately rejected by the provincial government and savagely ridiculed in the media. Yet the views articulated in her report, shocking as they may have been to many, were not actually exceptional. They only rehashed the dominant beliefs of the harm reduction world—beliefs have also, over the past decade or so, permeated deeply into Canada’s public health bureaucracies.

Henry’s report may be dead in the water, but the underlying ideas which animated it are still very much alive and will, in all likelihood, continue to influence Canadian policymakers within the cloistered hallways of the civil service. This is a shame, because it is difficult to overstate how strange these kinds of beliefs are.

To argue that drug prohibition is broadly based on a history of racism, mostly because it was misused for racist purposes a century ago, is kindergarten-level reasoning. There are ample examples of non-European societies, past and present, embracing criminalization. This is glaringly obvious and, in many cases, common knowledge.

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Non-Western drug prohibition throughout the ages

Perhaps one of the greatest examples of non-European drug prohibition is Sharia law, which has banned the consumption of mind-altering substances since the 7th century. One wonders how harm reduction activists can claim, with a straight face, that prohibition is rooted in “colonialism” and “white supremacy” when Islam’s religious and legal texts supported it centuries before global European empires emerged.

Since harm reduction scholars are so concerned about Chinese experiences, it would be instructive to look toward China itself, where prohibition is also popular.

In the late 18th century, the British began exporting large quantities of opium to the Qing Empire (China), which quickly fomented a wave of addiction and social disorder. Soon after, Qing officials embarked on a multi-decade campaign to criminalize the drug. “Opium is a poison, undermining our good customs and morality. Its use is prohibited by law,” wrote the Daoguang Emperor in an edict issued in 1810.

By the mid-19th century, the Qing worried that, without drastic action, China would be left bereft of money and productive men—so they banned all sales of opium and destroyed any supply of it they could find, including European wares. This angered the British, who profited handsomely off the opium trade, and led them to victoriously wage war against the Qing—not once, but twice—to forcibly stop prohibition.

Narcotics thus continued to flow through the veins of China’s body politic, wreaking havoc for generations. Since then, Chinese nationalists have bitterly remembered the Opium Wars as a colonial crime which marked the beginning of China’s “century of humiliation.”
The 98th Regiment of Foot at the attack on Chin-Kiang-Foo (Zhenjiang), 21 July 1842, resulting in the defeat of the Manchu government. Watercolour by military illustrator Richard Simkin (1840–1926).

This raises an important question: how exactly can anyone square this history with the ideological framework of the harm reduction movement? Were the Qing embodying some mystical form of white supremacy? Perhaps we should be grateful that the British sent their anti-racist warships to decolonize China’s drug laws.

Even today, the legacy of the Opium Wars continues to inform Chinese attitudes towards drugs—both within China itself (where strict prohibitionism is the norm) and in the diaspora.

In San Francisco, America’s petri dish for drug liberalization, it is Chinese-Americans who are leading a public backlash against progressive policies and calling for greater prohibition. Similarly, Chinese-Canadians were instrumental to Vancouver’s political pivot during the 2022 municipal elections, wherein the centrist ABC party swept the city council and the mayor’s office. Just this spring, Chinese-Canadian protestors in Richmond, the most ethnically Chinese city in North America , thwarted the launch of a new supervised consumption site, only to have a white progressive woman shout “Go back to Hong Kong” at them. No doubt another anti-racist activist.

When I interviewed almost a dozen Chinese-Canadian small business owners and workers in Vancouver’s historical Chinatown last summer, their support for prohibition was clear—and the legacy of the Opium Wars was invoked several times. Many other ethnic groups are processing similar historical traumas, and facing similar erasure. Do harm reduction activists forget, for example, that early European colonists devastated North American Indigenous communities by plying them with alcohol?

Indigenous leaders did not respond to that crisis by calling for more booze. On the contrary, they pushed for prohibition. Illustratively, when Treaties No. 6 and 7 were negotiated during the 1870s, Indigenous representatives asked for the “exclusion of fire water” from Saskatchewan, and that “no intoxicating liquor be allowed to be introduced or sold” on reserves. Even today, dozens of “dry” Indigenous reserves throughout Canada continue to ban alcohol and drugs to whatever extent they can.

When I interviewed over a dozen Indigenous elders and community members in Calgary last summer, their opposition to drug liberalization was clear—some went so far as to condemn decriminalization and “safer supply” programs as “pharmaceutical colonialism.” Ronnie Chickite, chief of the We Wai Kai Nation in British Columbia, told me this spring that his entire band council was “entirely against” decriminalization and that provincial officials had allegedly ignored them.

Building upon these interviews, two senior contacts in the Ontario government confirmed to me earlier this year that Indigenous leaders across the province seem to commonly hold prohibitionist beliefs. Who would have thought that Indigenous people could be such raging white supremacists?

Surveying the world today, it is clear that drug prohibition is actually strongest in non-European states—particularly East Asian and Middle Eastern ones—while liberalization is actually more popular in the West. It is telling that the harm reduction movement seems intent on ignoring this, or, alternatively, positioning non-white prohibitionism as a symptom of corrupting European influences. Both responses are, ironically, more than a little racist—how else can one describe the systematic erasure of non-European voices?

How is it that harm reduction advocates, who make such a theatre of their own “anti-racism,” cannot grasp that non-white communities have intellectual and cultural agency and do not simply let white people dictate their beliefs? In their obsessive disdain for European civilization, these advocates close their eyes to the rest of the world and inadvertently reproduce the same cultural narcissism that they ostensibly condemn—their calls for racial justice conceal a Eurocentric mindset sopping  with paternalism.

How is this possible? How has this happened? A glimpse of an answer can be found in the “Acknowledgements” section of Henry’s report this month, where brief biographies of the report’s contributors were provided. Each contributor fixated on their ethnicity and, in many cases, proclaimed themselves as “third generation settlers” or “occupiers.” Unsurprisingly, almost everyone on the team was white. Though there were some Indigenous voices (who were seemingly relegated to working on exclusively Indigenous-related tasks, of course), not a single Asian, black or Middle-Eastern voice could be found.

The B.C. provincial health officer report’s contributors section:

So it seems that a bunch of white progressive bureaucrats produced a document that fixated on “colonialism” and “racism” while ignoring the actual beliefs of many, if not most, non-white communities. Nothing could encapsulate the harm reduction zeitgeist more perfectly: the privileging of empty gestures over real consultation, the self-indulgent self-flagellation of the white bourgeoisie, the patronizing assumption that minority communities have homogenous political beliefs that happen to align with progressive causes.

All of this would be comedic if lives weren’t at stake.

It should be clarified that there are many valid ways to criticize drug laws from a racial justice lens. Laws are just tools which we use to order society, and, like any tool, they can be abused—so it is fair to explore how some laws, in some contexts, have racist intentions or outcomes.

This is best illustrated by the wealth of scholarship criticizing American cannabis laws—in this case, critics have been able to concretely show that specific laws, in specific contexts, are being enforced unfairly and exacerbating inequities without producing justificatory social benefits.

Yet this mode of analysis, which focuses heavily on outcomes and concrete data, is an entirely different beast from the essentialist arguments recklessly flung around by the harm reduction movement. It makes sense to test measurable hypotheses about specific laws and their implementations. But to argue that drug prohibition is intrinsically “racist” is to succumb to ideological hallucination.

This essay originally appeared in The Hub and has been syndicated to Break The Needle through a co-publishing agreement.

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Addictions

Alberta closing Red Deer’s only overdose prevention site in favor of recovery model

Published on November 6, 2024

By

Alberta’s Minister of Mental Health and Addiction, Dan Williams, at the Alberta Legislature in Edmonton on Sept. 11 2024. [Photo credit: Alexandra Keeler]

By Alexandra Keeler

Alberta’s Minister of Mental Health and Addiction explains the shift from overdose prevention to recovery amid community concerns

On Sept. 23, Alberta announced the city of Red Deer would be closing the community’s only overdose prevention site by spring 2025. The closure will mark the first time an Alberta community completely eliminates its supervised consumption services.

The decision to close the site was taken by the city — not the province. But it aligns with Alberta’s decision to prioritize recovery-focused approaches to addiction and mental health over harm-reduction strategies.

“The whole idea of the Alberta Recovery Model is that unless you create off-ramps [from] addiction, you’re barreling ahead towards a brick wall, and that’s going to be devastating,” Alberta Minister of Mental Health and Addiction Dan Williams told Canadian Affairs in an interview in September.

However, the closure — which parallels similar moves by other provinces — has sparked debate over whether recovery-oriented models adequately meet the needs of at-risk populations.

The Alberta Recovery Model

The Alberta Recovery Model, which was first introduced by Alberta’s UCP government in November 2023, emphasizes prevention, early intervention, treatment and recovery.

It is informed by recommendations from Alberta’s Mental Health and Addiction Advisory Council and research from the Stanford Lancet Commission on the North American Opioid Crisis.

“Alberta, in our continuum of care, has everything from low entry, low barriers, and zero cost [for] detox, to treatment, to virtual opioid dependency, to outreach teams working with shelters,” said Williams.

Williams said that Alberta intends to continue funding safe consumption sites as short-term harm-reduction measures. But it views them as temporary components in the continuum of care.

This is not without controversy.

At the Feb. 15 Red Deer council meeting where councillors voted 5-2 to close the city’s safe consumption site, some councillors noted that safe consumption sites play an essential role in the continuum of care.

“Each individual is at a different stage of addiction … the overdose prevention site does play a role in the treatment spectrum,” said Coun. Dianne Wyntjes, who voted against the closure.

While Red Deer is home to Alberta’s first provincially funded addiction treatment facility, Wyntjes noted there had been reports within the community of the facility lacking capacity to meet demand.

She pointed to Lethbridge’s experience in 2020, where overdose deaths spiked after its consumption site was replaced with mobile services.

The Ontario government’s recent decision to close 10 safe consumption sites located near schools and daycares has prompted similar concerns.

In August, Ontario Health Minister Sylvia Jones told reporters that the province plans to “very quickly” replace the closed sites with Homelessness and Addiction Recovery Treatment (HART) hubs that prioritize community safety, treatment and recovery. But critics — including site workers, NDP MPPs and harm-reduction advocates — have warned these shutdowns will lead to an increase in fatal overdoses.

It is possible that Alberta, Ontario and other jurisdictions will make other moves in tandem in the coming months and years.

In April, Alberta announced it was partnering with Ontario and Saskatchewan to build recovery-focused care systems. The partnerships include sharing of best practices and advocating for recovery-focused policies and investments at the federal level.

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‘Mandatory treatment’

Another controversial component of Alberta — and other provinces’ —  recovery-oriented strategy is involuntary care.

The UCP government has said it plans to introduce “compassionate intervention” legislation next year that will enable family members, doctors or police officers to seek court orders mandating treatment for individuals with substance use disorders who pose a risk to themselves or others.

“If someone is a danger to themselves or others in the most extreme circumstances because of their addiction, then we as a society have an obligation to intervene, and that might include mandatory treatment,” said Williams.

Critics have raised concerns about increasing reliance on involuntary care options.

“Over the last two decades, there has been a dramatic increase in reliance on involuntary services [such as psychiatric admissions and treatment orders], while voluntary services have not kept up with demand,” the B.C. division of the Canadian Mental Health Association said in a Sept. 18 statement published on their website.

The statement followed an announcement by B.C. Premier David Eby — who was recently reelected — to expand involuntary care in that province.

Research from Yale University’s School of Public Health indicates involuntary interventions for substance use are generally no more effective than voluntary treatment, and can in some cases cause more harm than good. The research notes that “involuntary centers often serve as venues for abuse.”

A 2023 McMaster University study that synthesized the research on involuntary treatment from international jurisdictions similarly found inconclusive outcomes. It recommended expanding voluntary care options to minimize reliance on involuntary measures.

Williams emphasized that the province’s involuntary care legislation would target “a very small group of people for whom all else has failed … those at the far end of the addiction spectrum with very serious and devastating addictions.”

‘Off-ramps from addiction’

Over the past six years, Alberta has incrementally increased its mental health and addiction budget from an initial $50 million to a cumulative total of $1.5 billion.

The funding boost has enabled Alberta to eliminate a $40 daily user fee for some detox and recovery services, add 10,000 publicly funded addiction treatment spaces, and expand access to its Virtual Opioid Dependency Program, which offers same-day access to life-saving medications.

To support addiction prevention, Williams said Alberta is expanding CASA Classrooms in schools. These offer mental health support and therapy to Grade 4-12 students who have ongoing mental health challenges, and equip school staff and caregivers to support these students.

“Mental health and addiction needs to be as connected to the emergency room as it is to the classroom,” Williams said. “We need to be able to understand low-acuity chronic mental health challenges as they begin to manifest [in the community].”

The province is also in the process of establishing 11 residential recovery communities across the province. These centres provide free, extended treatment averaging four months — which is longer than most recovery programs.

Oct. 23 marked the one-year anniversary of one such centre, the Lethbridge Recovery Community. The $19-million, 50-bed facility served more than 110 clients in its first year and expects to serve about 200 individuals in 2025.

“I’m coming to see that entering treatment is only the start,” said Sean P., a client of Lethbridge Recovery Community, in a government press release celebrating the anniversary.

“With the support of the staff and the community here, I’m beginning to face my past and make real changes. Recovery is giving me the tools I need for this journey, and I’m genuinely excited to keep growing and moving forward with their help.”

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Addictions

‘Our Liberal Government Is Acting Like A Drug Lord’: A Mother’s Testimony

Published on November 1, 2024

By

By Adam Zivo

“As soon as [my son] was put on safe supply, he started diverting his safe supply” Mom tells Parliament safer supply isn’t working

“The whole purpose of the safer supply program was to divert addicts from using harmful street drugs, but that’s not happening,” testified Masha Krupp, an Ottawa-based mother, at the House of Commons Health Committee last week. Exhausted and blunt, she described how her son has, in the past, diverted his “safer supply” drugs to the black market and how she has personally witnessed widespread diversion, by other patients, outside the clinic her son attends.

Safer supply programs distribute free addictive drugs – typically hydromorphone, a heroin-strength opioid – under the belief that this stabilizes addicts and dissuades them from consuming riskier street substances. Addiction experts and police leaders across Canada, however, say that recipients regularly divert these taxpayer-funded drugs to the black market, fueling new addictions and gang profits.

The Liberals and NDP have denied that widespread safer supply diversion is occurring, despite ample evidence to the contrary – but Krupp’s lived experiences underline the folly of their willful blindness.

“As soon as he was put on safe supply, he started diverting his safe supply,” she testified. “You’ve got drug dealers – I know this for a fact through my son; I’ve seen it – they will come to your home, 24/7, you can call two in the morning. They take your hydromorphone pills.”

According to Krupp, her son’s addiction issues have not improved despite him being enrolled in a safer supply program for more than two years. He still uses fentanyl and crack cocaine, which led to yet another overdose just last month, she said, adding that diversion and a lack of recovery-oriented services contribute to his instability.

“The Dilaudid (brand name hydromorphone) is a means of currency for my son to continue using crack cocaine – so it’s not safe, because he’s still using unsafe street drugs,” she said in parliament.

Krupp further explained that, on multiple occasions, she witnessed and photographed patients selling their safer supply in front of the clinic where her son has been a patient since June 2021. The transactions were not subtle: she could see them counting and exchanging white pills.

Over time, Krupp corroborated these observations by acquainting herself with some of these patients, who would admit to selling their safer supply: “I get to know all these people that are diverting and using right in front of the clinic, in front of all the tourists, parents walking by with kids.”

She believes that safer supply could have a role in addiction care if it were better regulated, but feels that the current model, where supervised consumption of these drugs is rarely required, is only “flooding the market, using taxpayers’ dollars, with lethal opiates…”

“It’s unsafe supply, in my view, as a mother with lived experience,” said Krupp. “Our Liberal government, right now, is acting like a drug lord.”

Her testimony was consistent with what was described in a CBC investigative report published last February, wherein Ottawa’s police officers confirmed that safer supply diversion is rampant.

One constable quoted in the story, Paul Stam, said that virtually anytime police would pull up to Rideau and Nelson street, where the clinic Krupp’s son attends is located, “they would observe people openly trafficking in diverted hydromorphone.” The officer further told the CBC that the “street is flooded with this pharmaceutical grade hydromorphone” and that there has been a dramatic, province-wide reduction in the drug’s blackmarket price – from $8-9 per 8-mg pill to just $1-2 today.

Although Krupp gave her parliamentary testimony last week, I interviewed her in July and kept her story private at her request – at the time, she worried that going public could interfere with her son’s attempts at recovery.

In the July interview, Krupp explained that, not only had her son told her that safer supply diversion is ubiquitous, she had also heard this from two acquaintances of his, who were also on the program: “The information that I’ve received is that the drug dealers have operations set up 24/7 across the city, buying legal dillies (the slang term for hydromorphone).”

She explained that she had been able to witness and document safer supply diversion because, on most Friday mornings, she would take her son to his clinic appointments and wait for him outside in her car. As she was often parked just two or three metres away from where many drug deals occurred, she had a line of sight into what was going on: clearly-identifiable dillies being handed over for other drugs.

She estimated that, by that point, she had cumulatively witnessed at least 25 safer supply patients engage in diversion.

“[Safer supply patients] would trade their dillies for fentanyl and/or crack cocaine and smoke or inject it right in front of me. They would just huddle in a corner. It’s all done very openly,” she said. “What I witness, to me, is a human tragedy on the sidewalks of the nation’s capital, with Parliament Hill eight or nine blocks away, and all the politicians sitting there singing praises to safer supply.”

She pushed back on the narrative, popular among Liberal and NDP politicians, that criticism of safer supply is conservative fear mongering and said that she had voted NDP in the past, and had even voted for Trudeau in 2015. Her disgust with safer supply was simply her “speaking from the heart as a mother.”

While harm reduction activists claim that safer supply is a form of compassionate care, Krupp vehemently disagreed: “How is it compassionate to fuel somebody’s addiction? How is it humane to keep a perpetual cycle of drug abuse and dependence?”

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