Why I say nope to dope

My experiences of cannabis appear to mirror Mo Mowlam's, in that they were something of a drag. Being slow on the draw, it was not until my college days that the long-awaited opportunity for an illegal inhalation occurred.

The setting, to my young mind, was suitably bohemian: a top floor London flat overlooking the curve of the Thames so familiar from the EastEnders titles. Okay, so it was not a Cairo opium den, but to a boy from a Midlands market town it was almost dangerously exotic.

Seated on a grubby carpet in the obligatory circle, the spliff was passed round. As it approached my heart quickened: this was the chance to satiate my curiosity; to climb another rung into adulthood; to finally understand the allure of Bob Dylan.

Imagine my disappointment, therefore, when nothing happened. My inhibitions remained resolutely in place. As everyone around me fell about in hysterics I was left with an unaltered state of consciousness and a burnt lip.

A few years later, I did manage to smoke enough to send the room spinning and make me feel sick, hardly the super-cool, self-assured sensation I was aiming for. Then there was the eye-opening time I witnessed a friend rolling a joint on Delia Smith at a party. The Complete Cookery Course by Delia Smith, that is.

Without subjecting you to a blow-by-blow account, I can say occasional subsequent dabbling did elicit the mellow feeling regular users rave about. But by this time the flame of curiosity had been stubbed out. Marijuana and me bade farewell.

As for Mo Mowlam, she tried it in the Sixties "and didn't like it", which must rank among the least interesting confessions of all time. If this is typical of anecdotes we can expect from her much-hyped memoirs, then her publishers have bought a booby.

But it is encouraging that she hasn't been sacked by Tony Blair. Five years ago, Clare Short tried to raise the drugs debate to vaguely adult levels by suggesting that the decriminalisation of cannabis be considered. She was carpeted by Blair and his henchmen, and was forced to offer an abject apology for suggesting anything so sensible.

Ms Mowlam's supposedly "wild" student experiences contrast sharply with Jack Straw's. He actively campaigned against cannabis as a Leeds University undergraduate and remains vehemently against any liberalisation of the drugs laws. So Mr Straw can boast that he doesn't need stimulants. His addled reasoning over jury trials, Mike Tyson, alleged war criminals and the aggressive English is all his own work.

Hopefully, Mo Mowlam's typically honest intervention might help to cut through the cant surrounding British drugs policy. If nothing else, it will prove that the fabric of society does not collapse when a politician is open about former indiscretions. Three days after Mo's interview and we have not witnessed Mr Blobby skinning up on Live And Kicking, or Trevor McDonald trying out a different bong to those that herald his news bulletins.

Perhaps Ms Mowlam's clear-headed comments will influence drugs czar Keith Hellawell. In response to her admission, Mr Hellawell told GMTV: "I think we've got to stop this idea of witch-hunts and pointing the finger." Is this the same man who advocated random drugs testing at work? Bizarrely, I think it is.

The political leap between Ms Mow-lam's token toke and the legalisation of cannabis is too great for a Government of this timidity to undertake. Instead we must hope that the relaxed attitude towards her comments is a first step on the road to this ultimate goal.

The day when we stop wasting time chasing cannabis users and put all our resources into targeting death-dealing hard-drugs barons is long overdue. When it comes, I will toast it in the drug of my choice: a pint of addictive, harmful, and perfectly legal alcohol.

If you have any comments you would like to make, contact Chris Titley directly at chris.titley@ycp.co.uk

19/01/00

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.