Towns in Northland, Bay of Plenty and the East Coast are the worst affected by the country’s methamphetamine crisis.
Effective border control and policing are crucial, but demand-reduction is the long-term solution.
It comes at us in waves, by sea and by air, in mail, as cargo or in a tourist’s luggage. I’m talking about methamphetamine which, in Hawke’s Bay at least, seems to be in fresh and abundant supply. If that’s so, then it’s likely to be the situation nationwide.
Methamphetamine is not the only illegal recreational substance that causes concern. Cocaine is another steady runner and, dear God, pray that we don’t get into an opioid epidemic with fentanyl. But there is something about meth that has an immediacy of destructive social impact that makes it such a worrisome drug.
I don’t want to get into a moral debate about legal versus illegal intoxicants. Our most widely used drug is alcohol, and it ranks in first, second, and third place in terms of social destruction and health harms. But since Captain Cook arrived, we’ve made alcohol here, whereas not one molecule of meth is indigenous to New Zealand.
Surely, we can stop it coming in. Well, sorry, no. We are a trading nation with huge volumes of inbound containerised cargo in which every drum or item could contain meth or a precursor. More than three million travellers visited New Zealand last year, each with multiple items of luggage. We have long coastlines. Our borders are porous.
You will read from time to time of seizures at airports – clothing soaked in methamphetamine or pure meth simply packaged in suitcases. We saw it recently over the Christmas rush. You might think, “Hey, victory”, and feel that Customs is doing a great job.
It is, and all power to it and NZ Police offshore intelligence operatives. But here’s the rub. Worldwide best practice rates of interdiction at the border are assessed at about 20%. Whoa! Multiply that seizure by four, and gulp when you realise that is the amount that eventually hits the street.
What to do? There is a rational argument for the legalisation of all intoxicants, but as evidenced in the debate around the legalisation of cannabis, the strength of the alcohol and tobacco industries (yes, nicotine is a psychoactive substance) is likely to derail any evidence-based policy in that domain.
Supply control is our first port of call, and effective border control, policing and strong law enforcement aimed at cartels and distribution networks must be enabled and continued. But as I’ve illustrated, even if we dramatically upped our game, significant product would still slip through.
The long-term solution is demand reduction. It’s easier said than done. The devil plays a seductive tune. People use meth because it makes them feel good. Initially at least. It’s a functional drug and users can continue to operate well at their job if they can get supply. Why, you could even operate as an ophthalmologist.
But slow fuse or fast fuse, users’ lives and relationships will start to disintegrate. Financing their habit will consume their income because they will need increasing amounts, and their mental and physical wellbeing will deteriorate.
Can you beat methamphetamine addiction? That’s a profound “yes”. From my observation – and I’ve worked in this sector for nigh on 20 years – it’s an easier drug to quit physically than alcohol or nicotine.
But meth has its peculiarities. While all addiction recovery is a personal journey down a lonesome valley this one requires the help and support of whānau and friends.
Partly the help is practical and emotional, particularly in the first stages of withdrawal. Besides the deleterious physiological impact of meth on the heart and other organs there are two meth-related psychological illnesses related to brain chemistry.
One is anhedonia, the inability to experience natural pleasure because of interruption of the body’s production of dopamine. The other is anergia – listlessness and a sense of uselessness. This initial stage of withdrawal is a troublesome period that will test the limits of love and friendship and tolerance. This is “hang in” time for whānau and friends.
The received wisdom is that a person going through withdrawal needs residential treatment. In my experience – although it might be easier on the whānau for someone to go off and get “cured” – residential treatment is required only in a minority of cases, and generally it is because the addicted person has experienced some sort of psychosis.
Staying within the community generally means that the collective of whānau and friends need to set up barriers, preventing “user” friends and acquaintances – often themselves suppliers – from accessing those on the journey to recovery.
Physically, those in recovery will generally experience extreme fatigue, sleeping most of the day for two to four days. Their sleep patterns will remain disturbed. They may experience hallucinations. This can stay so for weeks. They will have reduced appetite and may suffer from malnourishment, so you need to feed them up with soups and tasty snacks. Prioritise protein, beef, fish, pork, chicken, eggs, salads and veggies.
Those in early recovery will suffer from a dry mouth, headaches, and even muscle spasms. Minimise use of sugar – it uses the same neural pathways as meth. They will need lots of fluid, primarily water with a pinch of salt. They may have intense cravings.
Emotionally, and this will persist for weeks if not months, those in withdrawal will suffer from the depression, anxiety and paranoia associated with anhedonia, and the lack of motivation or low energy associated with anergia.
Encourage and reaffirm them. Remind them that the brain, body and soul need time to heal and acknowledge that the recovery journey is very hard, and withdrawal is often painful. Compliment them for their courage.
Most communities have free mental health and addiction services readily available. While there is a perception that these are difficult to access, in the main, if you don’t require residential treatment, services are at hand. MP Matt Doocey has recently had his hands freed up to ensure this.
Act as an advocate for your help-seeking friend or whānau member. Get the help seeker a full medical examination. Get an oral health assessment. Meth takes an awful toll on the gums and teeth. Often long-term users suffer terrible pain from gum disease and rotting teeth, and freedom from that pain can assist recovery dramatically.
Encourage the help seeker to undergo regular drug testing as a measure of accountability and a metric of their recovery.
Methamphetamine users are across all sectors of society. If you have a friend or whānau member who is trapped in addiction recognise that you are not facing this alone. You don’t need to feel shame. Reach out locally to those facing the same challenge.
Similarly, don’t demonise users. There but for the grace of God, as it were.
On the other hand, don’t tolerate suppliers. Call them out. Drive them away from your whānau, your home, your street, your community. Collaborate with other concerned citizens. Be nosey. Be obviously vigilant.
Most suppliers have addictions themselves. The police have long recognised that we can’t arrest our way out of this scourge, and they also provide channels for users who want to break the cycle to get help.
I accept that there is cynicism about many of us who come from gang-connected communities and yet maintain an anti-meth stance. It doesn’t help when there is a bust at a rehab facility but then again even prisons with all their security can’t stop drugs and electronic devices getting through.
We recognise that our drug-dealing whānau members are way down the supply chain and that because of solid police work the assets they acquire and wealth they briefly enjoy will be short term and transitory.