Drug War Peace Plan

In his office at the King County Bar Association, attorney Roger Goodman pulls open a desk drawer and shows off a stash of his drug of choice—extra dark Neuhaus Belgian chocolate. He pulls out one of the tiny, 1-and-a-half-square-inch bars piled there. "That's almost an overdose," he says. "I break them into four pieces and take one an hour." He's apparently serious.

Dressed in a blue-and-white pinstriped shirt, prone to discursive monologues in even tones, the 44-year-old former congressional chief of staff is more policy wonk than druggie. And that, he is very well aware, is what has helped bring national notoriety to a years-long effort he has headed aimed at eradicating the war on drugs and replacing it with a viable, comprehensive legal system that would emphasize regulation and treatment.

It has become commonplace to hear people say that the war on drugs has failed, given the tremendous growth of the illicit market and associated crime despite billions of taxpayer dollars spent on the effort. Even some cops, like former Seattle Police Chief Norm Stamper and those belonging to the national group Law Enforcement Against Prohibition, have begun to say it. But Goodman, in his capacity as head of the county bar's Drug Policy Project, has brought to the table the widest assortment of quintessentially respectable types ever working on the issue. Among them are lawyers, doctors, pharmacists, and psychiatrists, all participating as sanctioned representatives of their respective professional groups.

Ethan Nadelmann, executive director of the New York–based Drug Policy Alliance, the country's leading organization advocating reform, says that Goodman's coalition is noteworthy for working on not just incremental but sweeping changes. "It's probably the single most substantive effort anywhere in the United States to engage the elite on both those levels," he says.

It's the coalition's big-picture work that is the real first. Saying that the war on drugs has failed is not enough. The real question is: What's the alternative? That's the question that the bar's project attempted to answer in a report released in March that was the result of three years of deliberations. What the coalition came up with is not, Goodman insists, drug "legalization." In the parlance of drug policy reform, that term has come to mean lifting criminal penalties surrounding drugs and letting the free market take over. Goodman's group wants something quite different, as he articulated when he faced skepticism at a presentation before the Governor's Council on Substance Abuse. "I said, wait a minute, we're talking about limiting access more than today," Goodman recalls. "We're saying these drugs are so potentially hazardous, we're going to take control away from criminals."

Control instead would be firmly in the hands of the government, which would buy, distribute, and possibly sell drugs in accordance with a regulatory system using such measures as licensing and age restrictions. It's the alcohol or tobacco model, only one that would more seriously attempt to control use. Selling by anyone other than government officials, for instance, would not be allowed, nor would unfettered advertising. "No one's going to profit," Goodman says. "We're really talking about medicalization, not commercialization."

The coalition's report does not lay out exactly how this new system would work. Actually, only 16 of its 145 pages start getting into details. And those are intended to be a "menu of options," as Goodman puts it, rather than a precise, recommended model. But those options give a pretty good picture of what kind of system it would be. One central proposal is that the hardest of drugs—heroin, cocaine, and methamphetamine—could be distributed only to addicts at government-run medical facilities for the purpose of treatment. Those who receive these drugs might even have to obtain "a proof of dependence" through a health exam. The government would obtain its drugs not from criminal networks but from pharmaceutical companies, which are legally allowed to produce cocaine, methamphetamine, and heroin substitutes like the opiate laudanum.

Other possible ideas in the report include registration and licensing of drug users, with the possibility that a license might be retracted for irresponsible use; rationing that would limit the amount of drugs that could be obtained at any given time; even a "test of knowledge" about safe drug use.

The report puts marijuana in a separate category requiring less control. It envisions allowing people to grow their own and possibly licensing local producers. By suggesting that marijuana might be regulated similarly to the way hard liquor is in Washington state, the report also raises the possibility of state pot stores.

Reaction has, for the most part, been enthusiastic. "We're getting reverberations literally from around the world," Goodman says. He says that Canadian elected officials, embarking on their own version of drug law reform, have called and are eager to consult. So have a Hollywood screenwriter working on the issue and a hotel/motel magnate wanting to act as a financier. Working for a national organization called the Voluntary Committee of Lawyers as well as the county bar, he is now taking the report on the road, trying to encourage similar professional coalitions in other states. He just got back from a two-week tour that took him to Washington, D.C.; Miami, Fla.; Portland, Ore.; and Alabama.