April 27, 2004

This has to end

The war on drugs is a miserable failure and we have to rethink it. Anyone who thinks that this is an acceptable, but perhaps regrettable, side effect of our righteous efforts to "save the children" and stop the "scourge of drugs" needs to think again.

Although prosecutors admitted Paey was not a drug trafficker, on April 16 he received a mandatory minimum sentence of 25 years for drug trafficking. That jaw-dropping outcome illustrates two sadly familiar side effects of the war on drugs: the injustice caused by mandatory minimum sentences and the suffering caused by the government's interference with pain treatment.

Paey, a 45-year-old father of three, is disabled as a result of a 1985 car accident, failed back surgery, and multiple sclerosis. Today, as he sits in jail in his wheelchair, a subdermal pump delivers a steady, programmed dose of morphine to his spine.

Meanwhile, prosecutors have pursued Paey in three trials. The first ended in a mistrial; the second resulted in a conviction that the judge threw out because of a procedural error; and the third, which ended last month, produced guilty verdicts on 15 charges of drug trafficking, obtaining a controlled substance by fraud, and possession of a controlled substance.

A juror later told the St. Petersburg Times he did not really think Paey was guilty of trafficking, since the prosecution made it clear from the outset that he didn't sell any pills. The juror said he voted guilty to avoid being the lone holdout. He suggested that other jurors might have voted differently if the foreman had not assured them Paey would get probation.

The prosecutors, who finally obtained the draconian sentence that even they concede Paey does not deserve, say it's his fault for insisting on his innocence. "It's unfortunate that anyone has to go to prison, but he's got no one to blame but Richard Paey," Assistant State Attorney Mike Halkitis told the St. Petersburg Times. "All we wanted to do was get him help."


Instapundit links to more on the sordid history of marijuana prohibition. Read the whole thing for all the xenophobic details.

The most discouraging part? Here is the full text of the congressional debate on the Marihuana Tax Act of 1937:

NY Republican: Mr. Speaker, what is this bill about?

Speaker Rayburn: I don't know. It has something to do with a thing called marihuana. I think it's a narcotic of some kind.

NY Republican: Mr. Speaker, does the American Medical Association support this bill?

Congressman on committee: Their Doctor Wentworth came down here. They support this bill 100 percent.

That's it. The whole thing. And it passed easily without a roll-call vote. The most disgusting thing? What the doctor from the AMA (whose real name was Woodward) actually said to the committee was "The American Medical Association knows of no evidence that marihuana is a dangerous drug." But no matter. That's pretty close to 100 percent support.

And for the first time, federal laws began to regulate narcotics. And now, 67 years later, we get to lock up wheelchair-bound chronic pain sufferers for a quarter century even when we don't want to. Now that's progress.

Posted by richard at April 27, 2004 07:07 PM
Comments

There are two failures here — the first we can pin on the legislators who put mandatory minimums in place and scrunched much of the discretion out of drug sentencing. The drug laws impute trafficking intent from quantity, and they do not adequately distinguish between use and abuse. The fact that potential criminal liability had doctors running scared of prescribing pain-control meds for this guy is alarming as well. Put aside for a minute that the penalties are draconian — when these laws prevent doctors from legally prescribing drugs to people who need them, you've got a big problem.

The second failure is prosecutorial discretion. The state gets to pick and choose whom it will prosecute under the law. Do you think Rush Limbaugh will be charged in Florida with offenses that mandate serious jail time? This isn't even a case where prosecutors put the screws to a less culpable defendant because he wouldn't rat out someone further up the chain of distribution. When I first read the post I suspected this kind of motive, but the state can't even claim that.

The prosecutor's fault attribution is asinine. That's like playing chicken with someone, crashing his car and killing him, then saying it's his fault because he didn't get out of the way.

I could go on for pages about the stupidity of the war on drugs, which we seem to have no hope of quitting (why is it that the War on Poverty is the only war our government has decided to suspend fighting?). It's excessive and irrational, as you have explained. It's often unjust and inequitable to the point of racist (see the disproportionate sentencing exposures for comparable quantities of crack and powder cocaine), and it's arguably self-perpetuating and counterproductive. I had stats somewhere on the number of inner-city black men currently in prison on drug charges; the numbers were astronomically high, and the article that housed them made a good point that taking the adult males out of inner cities is not the best way to protect these populations. I'll have to dig up the reference.

I don't know if you saw the West Wing episode where Pres. Bartlett issued pardons to persons screwed over by mandatory minimums. Pretty far-fetched, but I like it. Dubya says he's committed to transitioning ex-cons back into society. Somebody should pass the word to his U.S. Attorney here in Massachusetts, who has adopted a practice requiring his prosecutors to charge the maximum in all cases unless he personally signs off on lesser charges. We had a case where a kid on Oxycontin drove the getaway car in a bank robbery. In the year before the feds identified him as a suspect, he had detoxed, rehabbed, taken a job, enrolled in school, and was volunteering his time lecturing high school kids on the perils of drug abuse — not from anything the government had done, but on his own initiative. The kid pleaded guilty, and the Sentencing Guidelines had him on the hook for a one-year prison term for his particular offense conduct. My judge departed down to probation on the ground of extraordinary rehabilitation — and because sending a recovering addict to prison risked undoing all the good the kid had done for himself. And there was the government, insisting on that one-year term. It has since appealed the judgment, presumably because it makes their job harder to have a decision on the books that supports (gasp!) departing from the Guidelines.

It's just pathetic.

Posted by: Brad A. at April 28, 2004 01:22 PM