Supporters of drug decriminalisation are mobilising en masse at present, attempting to force a radical overhaul of Britain’s drugs policy. Critics have lambasted current legislation for its role in increasing crime and damaging public health, promoting decriminalisation as the perfect tonic for curing society’s ills.

It is worth remembering, however, that drugs are not simply the scourge of the poor, nor is their usage restricted to estates and inner cities across the country.

Drugs blight lives across the social spectrum, with the class divide meaning little when it comes to the vice-like grip in which addiction holds countless Britons. Growing up in one of London’s most salubrious suburbs, my friends and I were exposed to drugs on a round-the-clock basis at times, despite seemingly having it all in terms of money and privilege.

Likewise, during my days in the Square Mile, a culture of excess and hedonism reigned, thanks to the narcissistic and self-indulgent nature of the City beast at whose altar we all worshipped. Largesse and greed coursed through the veins of market players across the board, and drugs and drink were two easy ways in which to satiate one’s lust for high living.

Drug abuse was a far less prominent phenomenon than excessive alcohol consumption, largely because of the ramifications for any trader or broker caught high during office hours. Three-hour, booze-fuelled lunches were the norm for bosses and subordinates alike, yet coke-connoisseurs such as myself and my friends had to restrict our intake to nocturnal gatherings for fear of the consequences of being caught. As such, our habits didn’t get even more out of control than they already were, and we were forced to self-regulate our consumption.

Grandiose ideas such as withdrawing benefits for drug users who refuse treatment for their addiction will have no impact on such “high-end” users, for whom money is no object when it comes to supporting their illicit habits. Similarly, the price of the product being consumed makes little difference to those with copious amounts of disposable income at hand: we brokers happily paid £50 a gram to satisfy our craving; we’d have just as gladly paid double or triple should market forces have demanded us to do so. Addicts cannot be simply priced or taxed out of their habits; instead, the onus should be on reducing demand via educational and psychological means.

I underwent just such a remedial process, which was wholly effective in getting me off drugs for good. Once I realised that there was far more to life than a perpetual cycle of money worship by day, hard drugs by night, and little to no structure past the next trade I put on or the next gram I scored, I was able to consign coke to my past and move onwards and upwards in terms of living a far more fulfilling life in which drugs played no part.

In an ideal world, both drugs and drink would be unnecessary evils for all citizens, and the issue of their legality neither here nor there. In the real world, however, there should be a concerted effort to keep drugs as far out of reach as possible, if only to prevent their further encroachment into previously safe terrain, whether that be a Bethnal Green council flat or a Bishops Avenue summer palace.

That the global war on drugs is not working is a sad fact of life, but throwing in the towel is not the answer. Moral positions should not get turned on their head just to satisfy short-termist lawmakers and lobbyists; instead, a more concerted effort must be made to stop disaffected citizens running into the welcoming arms of their local drug dealers.

Drug usage can be curtailed by effective education and provision of alternative pastimes – a strategy infinitely preferable to exposing society to an even headier cocktail of substances than are already on offer.

Via: guardian.co.uk