The Washington Post - USA (2020-11-22)

(Antfer) #1

C4 EZ RE THE WASHINGTON POST.SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22 , 2020


BY RICHARD B. KAREL

D


espite the deep and bitter partisan
divisions that four years of a Trump
administration and the election have
laid bare, there was one area in which
Americans across party lines and geographic
divides joined hands: the need for the nation to
take a more compassionate, less punitive ap-
proach to drug policy. In every state in which
there was a drug policy reform referendum —
from Mississippi to New Jersey and from coast
to coast — the initiatives passed, in most cases
by larger margins than predicted.
The red and blue embrace of such reforms
has been given a variety of meanings, but
beyond dispute is that fatigue with decades of a
failed drug war that has affected people every-
where led voters across party lines and ideol-
ogies to embrace a new approach. Though the
victorious initiatives represented a major leap
in some states and more modest steps in
others, Maryland, an otherwise progressive
state on issues such as reproductive rights and
gun control, has moved at a glacial pace in
taking the step from allowing medical use of
marijuana to recreational legalization, and it
has taken only modest steps toward treating
drug addiction as mainly a medical and psy-
chological issue rather than a criminal issue.
D.C. voters approved a referendum that
would make the enforcement of laws against
entheogens — naturally occurring hallucino-
genic substances derived from plants, fungi
and amphibians and used for religious or
spiritual purposes, among the lowest law en-
forcement priorities. Although the law refers
broadly to entheogens, the primary focus ap-
pears to have been so called magic mushrooms,
whose primary active constituent is psilocybin.
In neighboring Virginia, Gov. Ralph Northam
(D) recently said the commonwealth would
“move forward with legalizing marijuana.”
The legalization of medical marijuana and
decriminalization of possession of small
amounts of the drug have eased the burden on
Maryland’s criminal justice system, but the
failure to move to full legalization means that
the state is losing access to millions, p otentially
billions, of dollars in tax revenue. Considering
the huge cost of pandemic-related closures and
programs, the state needs this revenue now
more than ever. Though many other businesses
have suffered badly during the pandemic,
business at medical marijuana dispensaries
has been booming.
Because of the conflict between federal and
state law (marijuana is still a Schedule I drug —
the most restrictive category and the same as
that for heroin and cocaine), legal marijuana
dispensaries have to deal with cash because of
their inability to work within the legal banking
system. Despite this obstacle, marijuana busi-
nesses are providing a major tax benefit to
states and localities.
Since recreational marijuana was legalized

in Colorado in 2014, tax revenue from marijua-
na sales have reached more than $1 billion,
according to the Colorado Department of Rev-
enue. In Washington state, 2019 marijuana tax
revenue totaled $395.5 million, $172 million
more than that from liquor.
Moving beyond the de-escalation of the war
against weed, Oregon, which legalized mari-
juana in 2014, approved the decriminalization
of personal use quantities of drugs such as
cocaine and heroin and legalized therapeutic
use of psilocybin.
It is particularly ironic that Maryland, home
to the world’s leading center on psychedelic
research — the Johns Hopkins Center for
Psychedelic & Consciousness Research,
launched in 2019 — still treats psilocybin as a
Schedule I drug without therapeutic use. The
center’s director, psychologist Roland R. Grif-
fiths, began conducting research on the thera-
peutic potential of psilocybin 20 years ago. He
has conducted a series of carefully controlled
studies with promising results in areas ranging
from helping terminally ill cancer patients deal
with the existential challenge of confronting
death to treating severe depression, as well as
psilocybin use as an aid to facilitate people
dealing with addiction to alcohol and other
drugs.
The day after the election, the Hopkins team
published a small but groundbreaking study in
JAMA Psychiatry that found that “psilocybin-
assisted therapy was efficacious in producing
large, rapid, and sustained antidepressant ef-
fects in patients with major depressive disor-
der.”
Those in the state legislature who have
taken a go-slow approach on moving to legaliz-
ing marijuana for recreational use have argued
that such a move would entail risks. Yes, there
are always risks — but they must be balanced
against the risk of the status quo and the
potential benefits, not only of tax revenue but
also the freeing of police resources and the
broadening of individual freedom that this
would achieve.
Regarding the therapeutic use of psilocybin
by trained facilitators, the argument against
legalization is even weaker. Such therapeutic
legalization would not create tax revenue. It
would, however, provide a critical tool for
therapists who now have their hands tied in
helping their fellow human beings deal with
some of mankind’s most persistent and vexing
challenges.
It is way past time for Maryland to legalize
recreational use of marijuana and the thera-
peutic use of psilocybin. The socioeconomic
and cultural imperatives of this time make it
clear that 2021 should be the year that our state
legislature wakes up to the incontrovertible
reality that the war on drugs has been an abject
failure, causing collateral damage across our
state and our nation.

Richard Karel is a writer who lives in Baltimore.

Maryland has a drug problem


BY STEPHEN NASH

B


eyond our viral and electoral
maelstrom, Virginia faces
happier challenges. “Wash-
ington Redwolves,” for exam-
ple? It polls well. Fine idea for the
NFL roster if you ask me, and the
actual animal behind the name is
nearly extinct, so maybe an affiliation
with the football-team-formerly-
known-as-Redskins would help.
The last few of the planet’s wild red
wolves, among the most critically
endangered on the planet, hang on in
coastal North Carolina’s Alligator
River region. You can also see them at
Roanoke’s Mill Mountain Zoo, part of
a national network of captive breed-
ing facilities where red wolves await
hoped-for release into the wild. The
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, their
legal custodian, is looking for new
places to reintroduce them. Virginia
qualifies.
Red wolves once ranged from
northern Florida to southern New
York, and west to the Mississippi. Last
year, the Center for Biological Diver-
sity spotlighted Virginia as a fine
possibility for reintroduction and
pointed to research studies suggest-
ing the nearly 3,000 square miles of
national forests in the western coun-
ties.
Wolf researcher Joseph Hinton of
the State University of New York, who
has worked off and on with the red
wolf rescue program for 20 years, has
a different take. The many wildlife
refuges, farms and forestlands of the
Eastern Shore are “the best option for
Virginia,” he told me. The Chinco-
teague National Wildlife Refuge
alone includes more than 20 square
miles of beach, dunes, marsh and
maritime forest.
Virginia’s state political leader-
ship, avowed supporters of the envi-
ronment and of sound science,
should move quickly to bring this
critically endangered species back to
our public lands, where they would
provide natural controls on popula-
tions of small mammals and deer, for
a healthier ecosystem.
Red wolves are smaller than west-
ern gray wolves, larger than coyotes

and shy of humans. Since their first
release in North Carolina, they’ve
been extraordinarily nonaggressive.
Only six incidents of their preying on
chickens or pets have been confirmed
there in more than 30 years. By con-
trast, Virginia sees more than 10,000
attacks on humans each year by an-
other canine — pet dogs — according
to state public health records.
Biologically speaking, it wouldn’t
take much to start a program in
Virginia, but it won’t happen without
a high-voltage spark of initiative from
the upper levels of the Northam ad-
ministration and its natural resourc-
es secretariat. But the state’s former
Department of Game and Inland
Fisheries, newly rebranded as the
Department of Wildlife Resources
(DWR), has always been hunter-cen-
tric, its new name notwithstanding.
Ninety percent of its budget is funded
through the sale of hunting licenses.
While some hunters welcome the
prospect of richly diverse and healthy
natural systems, others may see un-
welcome competition. But did some-
one say there’s a shortage of deer? A
2016 Virginia Department of Trans-
portation study counted 61,000 deer-
vehicle collisions in a single year, and
they accounted for 1 in 6 vehicle
insurance claims. The damages aver-
age a formidable half-billion dollars
each year. We could use some preda-
tors.
A DWR wildlife biologist has raised
other credible though surmountable
objections. “I believe that there is no
area in Virginia that would be suit-
able for the reintroduction of red
wolves,” Mike Fies has written. “Such
an experiment would be expensive,
unpopular with local residents, and
have very little chance of success.”
He notes correctly that red wolves
sometimes interbreed with coyotes.
But wildlife biologists have worked
out amply documented, highly suc-
cessful strategies at Alligator River
that nearly eliminated the coyote
problem. Another objection is that
Virginia’s wild landscapes may not
supply enough small prey for wolves
to thrive. That can be assessed.
More than 100,000 people wrote
the Fish and Wildlife Service to ex-

press support for the red wolf pro-
gram — only 1 in 1,000 dissented. It’s
easy to find out how many Virginians
agree.
But a measure of local resistance is
a given, at least initially. Gunshot
mortality is now the leading cause of
death among the North Carolina red-
wolf population, partly because they
are often mistaken for coyotes, and
mostly because their derelict federal
custodians, deeply compromised by
political considerations, have failed
to protect the wolves for the past five
years. In North Carolina, a majority of
landowners welcomed or were indif-
ferent to the presence of wolves, ac-
cording to survey research. Most co-
operated in allowing wildlife manag-
ers onto their land. Nearly 100 private
landowners signed a petition in sup-
port of the project.
Reps. A. Donald McEachin and
Don Beyer, both Virginia Democrats,
co-authored an October letter to the
Department of the Interior and the
Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) to
urge salvaging the all-but-abandoned
red wolf program, signed by 22 other
House members. It advocates “addi-
tional, new sites for red wolf reintro-
ductions” and “expanded engage-
ment with local communities.”
Virginia’s state leadership can con-
sider the example of North Carolina
Gov. Roy Cooper (D) and his resourc-
es secretary, who have warned Interi-
or Secretary David Bernhardt that
“The continued decline of this criti-
cally endangered species is unaccept-
able... it is critical that the FWS take
action to increase the existing wild
red wolf population.”
Virginia can help pull red wolves
and other endangered species back
from a ledge we have nearly pushed
them off. But, Hinton told me, “you
will need resource agencies that are
committed to defending their project.
The wolves will be fine.... It’s just a
matter of getting people to stop
shooting them.”

Stephen Nash, a visiting senior research
scholar at the University of Richmond, is
the author of “Virginia Climate Fever: How
Global Warming Will Transform Our Cities,
Shorelines and Forests.”

Bring red wolves to Virginia


SALWAN GEORGES/THE WASHINGTON POST
A red wolf yawns at the North Carolina Museum of Life + Science in 2017, in Durham, N.C.

Local Opinions


WASHINGTONPOST.COM/LOCALOPINIONS. [email protected]

JAHI CHIKWENDIU/THE WASHINGTON POST
Workers separate cannabis flowers from the plant stalks at Maryland’s first legal outdoor
marijuana harvest in October 2019, in Cambridge.

BY LISA K. FITZPATRICK

I


n the United States today,
where you live often deter-
mines how long you live. Our
Zip codes are more reliable
predictors of our health outcomes
than our genetic codes.
The disproportionate impact of
the novel coronavirus on under-
served communities has shed
light on this reality. In poor coun-
ties with high minority popula-
tions, the coronavirus death rate
is more than nine times greater
than predominantly White and
wealthy areas. But even before the
pandemic, these health dispari-
ties were well known. More than
40 percent of Black Americans
suffer from hypertension, com-
pared with 28 percent of Whites.
Diabetes is 60 percent more com-
mon among Black Americans
than White Americans. Almost 80
percent of Hispanic women are
overweight or obese.
Poor nutrition is a primary
driver of these conditions.
Moving to a disadvantaged
neighborhood in Southeast D.C.
helped me better appreciate this
association. It also helped me un-
derstand how policymakers have
made mistakes in addressing
these disparities — and how, by
fixing those mistakes, we can im-
prove health outcomes for under-

served Americans.
My own neighborhood is a food
desert. Corner stores and carry-
outs are more common than gro-
cery stores and farmers markets.
Health literacy is low, and some o f
my neighbors lack the proper
kitchenware to even prepare a
meal at home.
I’ve spoken to people in my
community who have a strong
interest in healthy eating, but
they don’t know how to start.
Some of them are food stamp
recipients who receive food
through government programs
but don’t receive comprehensive
nutrition resources to help them
make better choices.
Living in an environment with
scarce resources takes a serious
toll on their health — and their
experiences are hardly unique.
Culture, lifestyle and other so-
cial drivers of health play a role in
Americans’ eating habits, of
course, but so do government nu-
trition policies. For years, policy-
makers have attempted to make
communities such as mine
healthier. But most of their efforts
have failed.
Consider soda taxes, which are
levied in several U.S. cities.
They’re supposed to reduce Amer-
icans’ consumption of sugary bev-
erages, yet studies indicate that
they have little impact on con-

sumption rates and caloric intake.
Requiring restaurants to publi-
cize nutrition information hasn’t
worked either. As a study in
Health Affairs concluded, posting
calorie counts caused “no statisti-
cally significant changes over
time in levels of calories or other
nutrients purchased.”
Or consider the Dietary Guide-
lines for Americans, which the
federal government updates and
reissues every five years. The DGA
is quite influential: It shapes
school lunch programs, military

rations, public nutrition pro-
grams and even educational cur-
riculums.
The DGA supposedly offers “ev-
idence-based nutrition informa-
tion” to help Americans make
healthy choices about food and
beverages. But, in reality, the rec-
ommendations are based on in-
complete science and ignore key
populations. They’re entirely
geared toward healthy Americans
— even though 60 percent of U.S.
adults have a chronic illness.
There’s also evidence that the

DGA’s review process routinely
ignores the latest scientific re-
search. Consider how the guide-
lines recommend six servings of
grains daily, despite the fact that
rigorous clinical trials indicate
that those with chronic diseases
such as diabetes would benefit
from limiting their consumption
of carbohydrates. In many cases,
low-carbohydrate diets have re-
versed Type 2 diabetes, reduced
blood pressure, promoted weight
loss and improved heart disease
risk factors — yet the guidelines
haven’t taken those findings into
account.
Such gaps in the government’s
recommendations harm minority
and underserved Americans.
These groups experience higher
rates of diet-related chronic dis-
eases and disproportionately rely
on food assistance programs. It’s
puzzling that the DGA doesn’t
consider the health conditions of
the communities where its rec-
ommendations have the most im-
pact.
Amid the coronavirus pandem-
ic, the consequences of these dis-
appointing nutrition policies are
now tragically obvious. Ameri-
cans’ health has clearly worsened
since the creation of the DGA. By
distributing flawed nutritional
guidance, the government now
bears partial responsibility for the

high rates of chronic diseases in
underserved minority communi-
ties — who’ve also been hit hard-
est by the coronavirus.
I witness these inequities every
day — and even experience them
myself. Though I’m a medical doc-
tor and have all the tools to make
healthy choices, my health has
suffered since my move. I’ve
struggled to maintain a healthy
weight, and my blood pressure is
higher than it should be.
Fortunately, the scientific com-
munity has taken notice of the
disparities that impact communi-
ties such as mine. Recently, the
National Academies of Sciences,
Engineering, and Medicine as-
serted the DGA needed to expand
its methodological approaches to
“include broader groups of people
with a range of physiological
needs, metabolic health, and
chronic disease states.”
Now is the time for policymak-
ers to heed such recommenda-
tions. Only by developing
straightforward, reliable and sci-
ence-based recommendations
can we change course — and make
sure that a person’s Zip code isn’t
her destiny.

The writer is founder and chief
executive of Grapevine Health and a
Health Innovators Fellow at the Aspen
Institute.

My Southeast D.C. Zip code shouldn’t be my health destiny


MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/THE WASHINGTON POST
Shoppers at a G iant store, the only full-service grocer in Ward 8.
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