By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
Drug war reformers suspect they are the true targets, and this week they're stepping up lobbying efforts against S.R. 486. Angry e-mails are on their way to Washington, and several sites devoted to trashing the bill have been launched. But the protests may be in vain.
"We want to make it difficult for people to produce illegal substances," explains Chris Cannon, the House sponsor of the Senate version introduced by Dianne Feinstein and Orrin Hatch. "We are hoping to have hearings in March, and pass the bill this year, sooner rather than later."
It should not be overly difficult. The Methamphetamine Anti-Proliferation Act, as it's called, contains several politically attractive clauses that portend its passage into law. Drug warriors love the additional narcocops it sends to the front, and the way it stiffens sentences for methamphetamine distributors and cooks. But while these are standard measures in the war on drugs, zero tolerance for pro-drug data expands the battlefield from deeds to words.
The bill makes it illegal "to teach or demonstrate the manufacture of a controlled substance, or to distribute by any means information pertaining to, in whole or in part, the manufacture or use of a controlled substance" if a prosecutor can prove the info figured in a crime.
That's a mandate as big and broad as Montana sky. It covers information about safe dosage levels of illegal drugs, which combinations pose dangers, and which do not. It covers explanations about how to use marijuana to fight nausea and glaucoma. It covers tip sheets on how to harvest opium from poppies, identify psilocybin mushrooms in the wild, or extract codeine from Tylenol 3. In short, anything that could possibly be "intended" to encourage drug use.
Not only that, but under the bill, advertising any information that could lead to the sale of drug paraphernalia counts as a felony. So if you post the address of a head shop to a newsgroup, or the e-mail address of someone who makes bongs as a hobby, it's a crime punishable by three years in jail, even though head shops themselves remain legal.
There's a strong possibility that the law will shut down an entire class of drug advocacy. Already, publishers and activists are preparing to pull in their wares, or go overseas. Mark Greer, the executive director of Drug Sense, a nonprofit dedicated to accurate drug policy information, fears his archive of 30,000 clippings regarding drug policy could be the target of a federal suit brought by a D.A. on a scalp hunt to prove the new law works.
"Given the vague and inclusive interpretation of federal conspiracy laws, almost any information about criminalized drugs and any dissent against existing drug laws could be construed by federal enforcers as furthering drug crimes," says Greer. "Any anti drug war Web site would be shut down directly, or indirectly because Internet service providers, fearing prosecution, would refuse to host such sites." Greer is preparing for this eventuality by exploring steps to move his site offshore.
But even if he relocates to a cyberdomain beyond America's jurisdiction, anyone linking to his site from within the States could be punished under the proposed law. "The main thrust of this law is toward the Internet," explains Marv Johnson, an ACLU attorney specializing in the legislation. The Internet's free flow of information "has Congress running scared." And when it comes to drug paraphernalia, Congress is running far ahead of the First Amendment. Under this bill, even linking to a paraphernalia site is illegal.
But in the final analysis, it's less the prosecutions than the censoring effect this law will have that worries civil libertarians. "It's clearly going to chill publishing," says Johnson, and he's not exaggerating.
The American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression believes bookstores will be forced to withdraw certain drug titles, according to its president, Chris Finan.
Over at Ronin Publishing, one of the leading publishers of drug titles, tension is in the air. "Will the police storm into my house?" asks Beverly Potter, the company's president. She fears the law will criminalize every aspect of the book industry that deals with drug literature. "Every printer, every truck driver delivering these books will be a criminal."
"If it passes, we would probably pull all of our drug books, since I am unwilling to spend several hundred thousand dollars that I don't have to prove that my 'intent' satisfies Big Brother," says Mike Hoy, president of the radical publishing house Loompanics Unlimited. "This bill is the single most un-American thing I have ever seen."