More on Drugs

Drugs - Never Did Me Any Harm!

A long time ago now I wrote an article vehemently against drug 'legalisation' and received the wrath of the liberals and users/addicts who believe that de-criminalising drugs will in some way improve the current position. I have not changed my view and having seen the real world of drug addiction, I loathe drug dealers.

Most of you will have read the story the death of Isobel Reilly  a 15 year old girl who died of a drugs overdose. She was at a friends party. The hosts father went out leaving a bunch of 14/15 year olds to themselves. (I love this laid back attitude that you just leave young people to it and they set their own boundaries.) The daughter knew her father kept a stash of drugs in his room. She and her friends went and found them and consumed them. Cannabis, Ecstacy and Ketamine. Just the sort of thing that every liberal freethinker has stashed unlocked in their bedroom. Isobel died and three others, including the 14 year daughter of the occupant, ended up in hospital. The father Brian Dodgeon, a University Lecturer and owner of the drugs was arrested and released on bail.

You may have also read that last Tuesday Mr Dodgeon jumped off a bridge in a failed suicide bid. He is in hospital with two broken legs.

Now, I am not suggesting that the case to continue to criminalise drugs hinges on the death of this young girl. The case does however highlight that liberal parents and drugs are a dangerous combination. Drugs are bad for you, whether you smoke a bit of cannabis, do some coke or ecstasy at weekends or you are a heroin addict stealing or prostituting yourself for your next fix.

We all have a responsibility to young people to set an example and encourage others not to break the law or do things that are injurious to their health and well being. Parents using drugs, no matter what their personal views, is wholly irresponsible and wrong. It isn't fashionable in today's liberal society, but it is about time public comment and influence on behaviour was reintroduced without the outcry that we should not be judgemental of peoples choices no matter how stupid they are or how much it costs us. People like Mr Dodgeon deserve to be judged.

Drugs and Gaol

A few newspapers ran the story about new sentencing guidelines for drug dealers. Apparently, if you have only got up to 50 deals of heroin or a kilo of cannabis then in future you will be viewed as a small time dealer and are likely to receive a community punishment rather than prison.

The same day this story broke, my officers began to report that all the local drug dealers and runners are cock a hoop about this. The only concern they have in their wasted lives is getting caught with drugs and going to gaol. A community penalty is no penalty in their eyes and they can now continue wasting their lives secure in the knowledge that their liberty is not at risk.

It appears to me that the police are the only criminal justice agency left that actually gives a damn about crime and consequences. I hear more and more officers expressing the view that we should not bother any more. I countermand that view but wonder how it is being reflected on the front line. I do believe that these sentencing guidelines will encourage more people to become involved in unlawful drug supply and all the negative consequences that brings to our society.

An Officer Speaks: Should Drugs Be Legalised?

I apologise to everyone who regularly visits my blog that I have not been posting for some time now. One reason is that I simply do not have the time. Another is that I have determined not to respond to any adverse media reports concerning the police services of England and Wales. Why? Well, other police bloggers do so and I would merely be writing about the same topic but in a different manner. As I have said before, I only ever wanted to explore what it is to be a police officer and to share this with a wider audience. I wanted to demonstrate that being a police officer isn't just a job, it's a vocation, something that affects every aspect of your life whether on-duty or not.

I can't think of any better way to illustrate the above other than in this latest guest posting. It's from a police officer in Canada who devotes his own time to an issue he feels very strongly about: the legalisation of drugs. Of course, I have read about this in numerous newspapers, but it has always been portrayed as an indication of defeat on the war against drugs to even to consider it. I'm still undecided on the issue, but will certainly post a comment once I have digested what Officer Bratzer has written.


I would like to thank the Inspector for the opportunity to write this guest post. A successful blog represents a great personal effort and it was gracious of the Inspector to share a community of readers drawn together by his excellent writing.

A little about me: my name is David Bratzer and I am a police officer from Canada. I have a strong interest in drug policy reform which I pursue off-duty as a volunteer with Law Enforcement Against Prohibition. LEAP is an international organization of 13,000 current and former law enforcement officers who seek to minimize death, disease, crime and addiction by gradually legalizing and regulating all drugs. I should clarify that my opinions are my own and they do not represent those of my police department. Also, I still enforce the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act while on-duty (this is the act that criminalizes drug use in Canada). This might seem hypocritical - and often I do feel that way - but one can’t swear an oath to uphold the law and then pick and choose which laws to enforce.

The argument in favour of legalizing drugs like cocaine, heroin and ecstasy is not that they are beneficial or fun. Instead, LEAP argues these drugs are so dangerous they need to be regulated and controlled by the government. Under prohibition, the government has no control. It is the drug dealer who chooses price, purity, cutting agents as well as business location and operating hours. And these dealers certainly are not asking minors for ID, nor are they encouraging their
customers to moderate or abstain from drug use.

After decades of heavy enforcement, illicit drugs are cheaper, more potent and more available than ever before. By legalizing and regulating drugs, the British government could launch an economic war against organized crime by removing the profit motive from the black market.

Although legalization might seem like some kind of crazy utopian idea, it is actually a well researched crime control theory with broad support from across the political spectrum. This includes conservative organizations such as;

The Economist magazine as well as The UK Libertarian Party which promotes the “legalisation of all narcotic substances for adult consumption” as part of its platform.

LEAP has several representatives in the UK: Francis Wilkinson, retired Chief Constable from Gwent; Paul Whitehouse, former Chief Constable of Sussex; and James Duffy, a retired police inspector from Scotland. The Transform Drug Policy Foundation maintains a more complete list of officers who believe the current drug laws should be partially or fully abolished.

LEAP also offers stealth membership for those officers who are concerned about personal attacks and harassment if they go public with their views. You might have noticed that many of the names above are retired officers or senior police managers. Perhaps the readers of this blog can enlighten me: what are the laws and policies in the United Kingdom regarding police officers and free speech? What would happen if rank-and-file serving officers called for drug legalization as a public safety measure?

This is an important question because the War on Drugs has been a disaster for British police agencies. It is time for officers at all levels to acknowledge the significant damage done to the vital profession of policing through the enforcement of drug prohibition.

These consequences include diminished public respect, alienation from youth, recruiting difficulties, increased call loads, budget pressures, unfavourable case law, drug-related corruption and on-duty officer injuries and deaths.

Drug trafficking and drug use are consensual but harmful activities. Criminalizing these activities instead of regulating them results in gang violence, organized crime, property crime and the spread of HIV and Hepatitis C. Police and the legal professions must examine crime control efforts with a critical eye, particularly in the area of drug policy because the time for change is long overdue.

What do you think? Should drugs be legalized and regulated?

Wanted On Warrant

I'm back in the days of the good old Proactive Unit in Dystopia - a sergeant who had the luxury of patrolling with his officers and laying hands on criminals. We're tasked with arresting a Billy Burglar whose DNA has come back on a docket for an aggravated burglary. It was quite a nasty burglary too. Billy was found in the living room by the elderly victim and delivered a hit to the victim's head with a cosh. That wasn't the nasty bit, however. This elderly gentleman was a veteran of the Kenyan War against the Mau Mau. A hard nut, who later recounted the stories of the battles he fought. The veteran, after being hit, responded with a crack on Billy's head with his walking stick. Billy's blood was everywhere - a SOCO's dream - and he was soon marked as a wanted man.

We'd gone to Billy's address on two prior occassions. The first was at the usual warrant-enquiry time of 6 am. It's a good time to catch a Billy. Either they're in a drug induced sleep after spending the night burglarising homes to pay for their crack cocaine, or they're resting ready to wake at 10am in order to burglarise houses when decent people are at work. This time, there was no reply to our repeated knocking and gentle pushes against his door. I looked at his pre-pay electricity metre and saw that there was about 68 pence left. I lodged this in my memory in the knowledge we'd try again the following day.

Second try - again there is no response from Billy's address. We try to look through the curtains, but can't see a thing. I know Billy's inside. I can feel it. As we're leaving, I remember the electricity metre reading. I open the box and lo and behold, it now has over £20 in credit. Billy is in there, but without our seeing signs of life to suggest he is, we decide against forcing the door to search the premises. If he's not there, he'll know we're onto him and may go underground at a friend's address. We'd also have to spend at least an hour waiting for the boarding-up services to arrive, and we've other ne'er-do-wells to catch that day.

This requires a bit of cunning. Billy thinks he's smart, but he's not. We've dealt with many such low-lifes as him before, and we've caught the lot of them. Back at the station we resort to a tried and tested technique...

One of my officers puts on the luminous Royal Mail jacket and blue baseball cap, and grabs a clip board. He's attached an envelope to it. The plan is self-evident. He'll knock on Billy's door, Billy will see the trademark jacket, will ask what he wants, then open the door to sign for the letter. At that point we'll have our man.

This is what happens, it all goes exactly to plan. My officers handcuff Billy in his hallway and I go outside to radio for a van to take him back to the station. Suddenly I hear Billy shouting and screaming. What the hell is he trying to do? He's handcuffed. There's no way he can escape. I go inside and start calming Billy down.

"What the hell's wrong with you Billy?"

"Your f*cking officer, he's taking the p*ss".

I look at my officer who is in fits of laughter.

"What's going on?"

"Sarge, he asked what's inside the letter, so I showed him."

I see the scrumpled piece of paper on the floor and pick it up. I open it to read what my officer has written.

"You're nicked!"

Hobbesllian Footnote: I feel the need to point out that I severley chastised the officer for displaying his wholly unprofessional attitude towards Billy Burglar. It is imperative that we respect the rights of individuals who break into people's homes and are quite prepared to assault the elderly residents, having no regard to the injury this may cause.

The Drug Warrant

It's 6 am, I've 18 months service and I'm in a convoy of 3 police vehicles on route to execute a drug warrant at an address. The information is that the resident there, Billy T. Burglar (his middle name is 'The') has been given gainful employment by Mr Big to sell drugs from his home. Neighbours have complained about the number of Living Dead arriving at the location at all times of day and night. It's my first operation, 'given' to me by CID in order to help me develop. In reality this means that there will be little or no drugs at the address, otherwise they would have dealt with it themselves. Nevertheless, the planning of the operation has been a worthwhile exercise and even if I get a small amount of drugs it's another arrest and one that will please my reporting sergeant.

We arrive and stealthily creep up to the door. Everyone gets in position before PC Lump, chosen for the task due to his gargantuan frame, casually forces the door open with one delivery from his size 14 boot. I told him to use the enforcer during the briefing. Everyone told me he wouldn't. The officers go into each room to secure them, shouting 'clear!" as they do so. One brings Billy T into the living room, he's placed on the sofa, given a copy of the warrant and told to sit still.

The drugs dog comes in and begins its search. It goes to the television in the corner of the room, stands on its hind legs and begins sniffing the air. It's a find. I go to the television and look behind it and can see that the back is loosely fitted. I open it and at the bottom I see a large plastic blue bag. Inside is about £500 worth of heroin. I'm not just delighted at finding such a sizable quantity of drugs, I'm relieved to have found something so that the senior PC's won't tell me afterwards, "What a sh*t job that was probbie, thanks for getting me out of bed at 5 in the f*cking morning for f*ck all."

I tell Billy T he's under arrest and put a handcuff on one wrist. I take hold of his other to do the same, and he lets out a gut-wrenching scream. He drops from the sofa onto his knees, doubled in pain, tears rolling down his face. I ask him what's wrong and he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. The arm - from the elbow down to the very tips of his fingers - is yellow. It's swollen to four times the size it should be, dotted with weeping open sores, the stench from which immediately fills the room. I take the handcuff off his other arm, walk him out to the van and take him back to the station. No words of comfort are offered.


After he is booked in I go to CID and offer the interview to them, maybe they can find out who Mr Big is. "Nah, too busy." I tell the custody sergeant, who goes into a blind rage that CID are always too busy. He devises a plan to get back at them, which is to bail Billy T back to CID without consulting the detective I spoke to. I will take Billy T to the hospital and leave him there. He won't fail to answer his bail or leave the area. He might get a beating from Mr Big's thugs for losing the heroin, but he's had many such beatings before for 'sampling' too much of the drugs he is trusted to sell.

Another probbie is given the task of taking him to the hospital with me. The doctor asks us to stay whilst he gives treatment to Billy T. He's dealt with him before and received a punch in the nose for his troubles after refusing to prescribe him methadone. He looks at Billy T's arm and decides to take a sample of blood to determine what infection he has. He can't take it from the infected arm, or the uninfected one, or either of his legs, not even his feet. The veins have all long since died.

The doctor tells Billy T that he will have to take a sample from a vein in his groin. Billy T angrily responds with, "No. No f*cking way. I'm not a scag-head. Scag-heads stick needles in their groin. Try my f*cking arm." Strange. Billy T has a depth of desperation that he will not stoop to. He will never inject into his groin. It's too desperate. It's what the desperate drug addicts do. The scag-heads. The Living Dead who are that much closer to death than he is. The doctor sighs and inserts the needle into his uninfected arm. He draws back on the syringe and I watch as flakes of dried, black blood flutter into the chamber.


The doctor thinks for a moment, then tells Billy T that the only other way he can take a sample is from the artery in his neck. He says to do it, but the doctor feels obliged to tell him that it will be extremely painful. The pressure of the blood flowing through that artery will press against the needle, and Billy T will feel it. He will feel it bad. "I don't care," he says, "you're not putting that needle in my f*cking groin." The doctor inserts a small injection port into his neck, in which he will then insert the syringe to draw the blood. Only he doesn't get that far. The intense pain causes Billy T to let out a wail and he winces away from the doctor. The doctor tells him to take some deep breaths and relax. It won't hurt; the worst is over. The doctor tells us he feels comfortable to be alone with Billy T now, and we can go.

We're driving back to the station talking about Billy T. The Living Dead always look like they will die soon. Only they never do. They just carry on. Stealing. Contributing nothing. Taking all. The control room calls me over the radio. "The hospital have just rang. Billy T has sneaked out without receiving any treatment. They're concerned because he still has the injection port in his neck."

Well done Billy T, you're a genius. You can inject your next few doses of heroin directly into the artery in your neck. You're not a scag-head. Things haven't got that bad yet.