THE SCANDAL OF NUTTGATE

Professor David Nutt's high-profile sacking has prompted two things not
before seen: in almost every news source, there is now a debate about how
facts and public policy interact, as well as a healthy amount of truth
relating to the relative harms of drugs.

If you have escaped Nuttgate, then let me give you a quick rundown of
what's happened. The Government is mandated by law to keep an advisory
council to evaluate the relative dangers of drug use and to make
recommendations on drug law. The former chair of this committee, Professor
David Nutt, is a respected scientist and has a tendency to give talks and
write papers related to his area of expertise, as academics like to.

It was the publishing of a paper version of his talk on the relation
between public policy and the harms of drug-taking that sparked his forced
resignation. It goes into some depth, explaining why the principle behind
decision to move cannabis to class B from class C was faulty, as well as
calling on the government for to gather more evidence on what drug laws
actually achieve. It mentions in passing, amongst other things, the low
risk of psychotic mental illness that cannabis poses and the poor quality
of research on drug harms.

Our government's response? "I cannot have public confusion between
scientific advice and policy," wrote our Home Secretary Alan Johnson.
Which raises the important question, seized upon by journalists and
columnists the land over: why isn't the government policy in line with
scientific advice? Scientific evidence, of course, is just a fancy way of
saying 'facts', so in effect our Home Secretary is saying: facts undermine
the government's message on drugs. We don't like them; don't talk about
them or you'll get fired.

Our Government seems to think that the facts of the case can be changed if
they don't fit their preferred narrative, but they can't. However much
Alan Johnson hates people saying that horse riding is more dangerous than
Ecstasy, it does appear to be true. LSD may also be harmful to some users
but it is massively less harmful, on average, than most other drugs.

The reason given for not making use of these facts when changing the law
is because 'it sends out the wrong message'. This is because there is a
belief that the class a drug makes a difference to its use on the streets.
Now, that might be true and it might be good enough a reason to ignore
other evidence. Oddly, though, the government has never so much as tried
to work out if it is true. I would hazard a guess that they're not
particularly interested in that research, either, and it makes a mockery
of any commitment to the use of science.

For the record, there are a bunch of ways you might try to test that
theory. One is to change the class of a drug and poll users asking if
their use has increased or decreased. Or simply look at drug use
statistics and how they correlate with changes in class. Or look at police
wholesale seizure levels of drugs nationwide and see if they change
significantly. That the government has tried none of these cuts to the
heart of the debate: why doesn't the government care about evidence?

The answer, of course, is pretty simple. Drug policy is currently based on
a misguided sense of moralism; the idea that we can ignore facts because
we need to be protecting ourselves from the moral decline of society. That
should change. And if you're interested in moving that change along and
don't mind a shameless plug, look out for events run by Manchester's
Students for Sensible Drug Policy, who are working hard to raise awareness
of the failings of our current drug laws and campaigning for a fairer and
evidence-based policy.