Like a lot of people in the field, I’ve been thinking about
drug testing lately – meaning the testing of drugs that people might use,
rather than people who might use drugs. A
good introductory piece was written in The
Times by Hugo Rifkind (with the
inevitable response from Peter Hitchens), but although this was presented
as encouraging a pragmatic approach, focused on what we can do right now to
reduce deaths related to drug use, the reality is that a statement in favour of
this approach in principle doesn’t get us much closer to delivering it in practice.
I would say this is where I come in, but actually the most
fundamental points are dealt with by chemists, harm reduction workers and the
Police: how can people actually get a useful, timely service within the
law? I’m not going to comment on those; The Loop are the
experts on that.
What I mean is the other fundamental issue: who is going to
pay for this?
This was a question that
soon emerged in discussions of how we should respond to the deaths at Mutiny,
and my initial response was exactly in line with Max Daly’s
(as on many other things). But since
then I’ve had to think in a bit more detail, as it’s become a more real question
for us in Dorset with discussions
around Bestival, and this is where I’ve got to.
I should really preface this whole discussion by saying that
in my head this is a very similar issue to drug consumption rooms: there are
other things that are more fundamental to improving the lives of people who use
drugs, legal questions abound, and the whole thing would be easier if the
substances were somehow regulated rather than outlawed. And as with DCRs, my angle is the same: what
are they for (and therefore where is the money coming from)?
And for me the root of this issue is the question: is drug
testing a public health issue?
So here are my not-terribly-original-or-insightful thoughts…
I want to start by stating some of my assumptions.
First, these kinds of facilities aren’t a complete solution
to the problems, but they should be available at festivals. In the absence of drug regulation, these
services are the best bet we have for reducing deaths at festivals and elsewhere;
if only because they enable better harm reduction information to be put out
that the generic comment of ‘there seems to be a bad batch out there, so be
careful’ (this is almost
exactly the wording used by Mutiny).
People will always think it’s not their batch that’s bad, and if
you advise that things are ‘strong’ this isn’t always helpful for explaining
how people should behave.
By contrast, The Loop are able to give specific
warnings about specific pills – not only to individuals, but across social
media. They also provide harm reduction
advice to people there and then regardless of the test results. How many of these people would otherwise have
asked for this advice, or ever have received it? The answer appears to be as low as 1 in 10 of
the people who currently access The Loop’s service.
And there are some good, clear messages available for harm
reduction, such as ‘crush,
dab, wait’. Or even, if we want to
digest things even further: ‘no-one should
be popping whole Es in 2018’.
So if the service works, who should fund it? Well, in my experience local authorities have
tended not to fund the harm reduction and health services at these kind of
events previously. Mostly it’s the
responsibility of the organisers to sort that – though the local authority
might place some kind of condition on the licence it grants, or offer advice to
the organisers.
The only time I’ve got involved in this was when a new festival
ran just outside Dorchester, and because it was likely to be a local crowd we
made sure that the independent health and first aid team on site had leaflets to
signpost people to local drug and alcohol support services – but it wasn’t
those services that were providing the support on the day. And we didn’t contribute directly to the
costs of providing the first aid team; in fact, if I remember rightly, the
festival organisers gave free entry to some local authority staff partly so they
were on-site to see how things were progressing, and partly as a gesture of
goodwill. So if anything it was the
organisers that would have been contributing, rather than the local authority.
But that’s only the past, or convention. What should the local authority be
contributing? Well from my perspective,
I’d be happy for local services to be on site and offering advice and
information to either/both the health and first aid teams and the public directly. These services are commissioned to be open to
anyone in Dorset, and they should be going out to where people who might need
support actually are, rather than waiting for them to walk through the
door. A local festival seems like a
pretty good bet for this to me.
The thing is, The Loop already offer this kind of support as
part of their comprehensive package, and so I’m not sure whether local services
going into festivals would be efficient or appropriate. But that’s just an operational question.
The involvement of the local authority in terms of harm
reduction (as opposed to emergency planning, licensing etc) isn’t likely to be in
direct provision so much as answering that question of money.
If we’re imagining a local public health team might fund
this from their substance misuse treatment budget, I suggest we think again. Will this be an efficient, effective and
equitable approach? Will it narrow
health inequalities? I think that’s hard
to sustain, particularly at a time when we’re having to cut services that help
reduce drug-related deaths in greater numbers – that is, opiate substitution treatment,
which helps reduce opiate overdoses, which remain by far the most significant category
of drug-related deaths.
At a time when we’re not prepared to take the legal or
financial risk of publicly introducing a drug consumption room in an English local
authority, and local
politicians still oppose treatment being provided in areas that needs it, I
find it hard to look at the positivity around drug testing at festivals without
thinking back to my academic background of reading Bourdieu and thinking about
distinction. Are some drug users more
deserving of investment than others?
Any money spent on drug testing will have to be taken from a
treatment budget, and could mean one fewer member of staff in a service. I understand that the costs of running a
service like this somewhere like Bestival would be around £20,000. This is not insignificant for a local budget.
It might be different if we were talking about an
offer in a town centre, as part of the broader work to ensure that the
night-time economy is as safe as it can be.
But this is a private event, on private land, with paying
customers. It’s not entirely clear why
this would be the local authority’s responsibility.
That isn’t to say, of course, that this isn’t a public
health issue, though. And perhaps I’m
just being defensive because I know the financial constraints we’re operating
under. Maybe it’s not fair to pit one
group or issue against another, even if that’s how politics and policy work in practice. It might still be something we should
be providing, even if we can’t easily do that at the moment.
So let’s think in more detail about whether this is
genuinely a public health issue, and what that means for who should be stepping
up to be counted.
I want to make an analogy with the selling of unregulated
products in the nineteenth century (or earlier). The state wasn’t, as in Hugo Rifkind’s
eye-catching analogy, actively poisoning burgers to reduce obesity, or allowing
people to drink paint thinner as a warning against alcoholism. Rather, people were putting their own health
at risk by eating meat and drinking water they knew was risky, because there was
no real alternative. It was all they
could get. No-one was making a rational
choice, Friday Night Dinner
style, to eat rotten meat.
(I should point out here that I am not a historian of public
health, so I’m making a point about the principles more than the details. But please correct me in the comments if I’m
wrong on something substantive. If the
analogy isn’t good, it’s got to go.)
In these circumstances, the appropriate public health
response is not to ban all meat, or suggest people only eat vegetables; it’s to
regulate the food industry and ensure that they only sell safe products that
are accurately advertised.
Of course, MDMA does not occupy the same place on the
hierarchy of needs as food and water, but if we’re thinking of pragmatic
policy, there’s little doubt that (a) while not every human enjoys
intoxication, it is unrealistic to imagine a human society where this impulse
does not manifest itself in some way for a significant proportion of people; and
(b) the substances that are being used cannot be undiscovered or uninvented.
And actually we’re not talking about all food or
drink; it is possible to live as a vegetarian, so why not just say that meat-eaters
should look out for themselves. Meat is
a luxury and ‘caveat emptor’. It’s the
customer’s choice to buy meat, so it’s their risk and duty to check it’s
safe. If they’re not happy with the
risk, they should stop eating it. It’s
no-one else’s fault if they fall ill after eating it when they could just have
had a nut roast like some other people.
But that isn’t the public health response to unsafe
meat. So what should its response be to
unsafe drugs?
Well, we can lobby as individuals or as a group (and the
Royal Society for Public Health has done this), but in the immediate term
we have to operate in the current situation – which was Hugo Rifkind’s primary
response to Peter Hitchens: given we can’t change the situation regarding
supply today (whether to further restrict it or regulate it), what should we do
right now?
Well in the absence of any proper regulation for these
substances, which means we can’t stop people being sold substances of
questionable quality, all we can offer is a service to consumers to test the
product they’ve brought. Not everyone
will use this, and not everyone will respond to what they’re told in what we
might consider a ‘rational’ way, but it’s hard to see what other options there
are. Of course more people will use this
service if it’s free.
So I’ve stated that drug testing is a public health issue,
and there should be free testing for it.
So shouldn’t the local authority be funding testing at Bestival? Is the only reason not to the austerity
levels of funding available?
Well let’s think about that meat example, even if it is a
bit tenuous. The state doesn’t pay for
free customer testing of meat. Rather,
it relies on producers to ensure quality and safety, with the understanding
that there will be periodic tests and the costs of ensuring safety will be
passed on to the customer in the price.
Thinking of another example, health and safety inspections
occur, but we expect leisure centres to be responsible for ensuring the safety
of their swimming pools.
By the same logic, the onus for testing at a private event
on private property shouldn’t be placed on local authority public health teams,
and festival organisers should ensure harm reduction measures (the equivalent
of lifeguards, safe water, rubber rings) are available and accessible.
Following these analogies, we can imagine a situation where
the local authority did some trading standards style spot testing, but this isn’t
possible under the current legal framework (though interestingly it was
appropriate while there were still ‘legal highs’ before the Psychoactive
Substances Act).
So that’s the answer to the question that no-one (apart from
me) asked: drug testing is a public health issue, but that doesn’t necessarily mean
that local public health teams should be funding it. Now let’s get on with trying to encourage a
more coherent approach to regulating these substances so this kind of
discussion becomes redundant.
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