The addict, no matter what his psychological perceptions about himself, no matter what theorizing psychiatrists do, is a social type generated in response to changes in the social economy in a time of world crisis. A mistake frequently made is to view drug consumption merely as an indulgence, a gratification, an escape rather than a market response to economic and social dislocation.
âSol Yurick, author of The Warriors, in âThe Political Economy of Junkâ
Drugs make people feel good, not bad. They give people pleasures available in no other way. And they provide a near perfect escape from reality. The truth is that we are a drug taking society, with nine million alcoholics, hundreds of thousands of respectable pill takers who can afford prescriptions, thousands who drink to excess on occasion, including before driving, untold millions who continue to shorten their lives with tobacco, and five hundred seventy thousand heroin addicts. The truth is we are all in the same boat.
âHarvard Hollenberd, chief counsel of Narcotic Addiction Control Commission, to Harriet Michel, director of Mayorâs Narcotic Control Counsel, 19721
Alarm about illicit drugs crescendoed in the 1960s and 1970s. Drugs seemed to threaten the nation at every turn. âJunkies,â âpushers,â and âaddictsâ loomed large in public consciousness. Newspapers warned that hunger for drugs drove people to steal, mug, and even kill to sustain their habits. Commentators attributed the eraâs crime rates to surging heroin use and claimed that addicts transformed once welcoming neighborhoods into dangerous, forbidding spaces. Simultaneously, many were alarmed that heroin no longer seemed confined to poor communities of color. Media broadcasts reported that soldiers were using the high-quality, affordable heroin in Southeast Asia to manage the boredom and terror of the Vietnam War.2 Reports of white middle-class substance abuse and experimentation led parents to worry that drugsâlike so many problems at the timeâhad breached the carefully guarded borders of suburban America.3 These specific crises were all the more ominous because of the general upheaval throughout society. Drugs joined with the mass movements, the rebellions of youth, and the war in Vietnam to threaten traditional authority structures. And the more attention and resources state and federal governments devoted to drug treatment and law enforcement, the worse the situation seemed to get. For many, drugs appeared to be the final straw, pushing the country into mayhem and chaos.
Nowhere was the issue more salient than New York. New York City, a main entry point for heroin into the country, was supposedly home to half of the nationâs heroin addicts.4 The perception of a drug epidemic was both crisis and opportunity for lawmakers in New York State, and few politicians more persistently leveraged the issue than Nelson Rockefeller, who governed the state during the crisis. Drugs, he explained in 1970, imperiled the nationâs fundamental stability: âThe fiber of the American character has traditionally been strong. That is why the nation grew great. Drugs threaten to destroy that very fiber and to destroy the American future along with it.â5
As the son of the powerful philanthropist and financier John D. Rockefeller Jr., Nelson Rockefeller was born into the spotlight as an heir to one of the countryâs great fortunes. Before entering electoral politics, he worked for Presidents Roosevelt and Truman to advance U.S. interests abroad, particularly in Latin America.6 He served as New Yorkâs governor from 1959 to 1973, but his ambition was always to hold the nationâs highest office. Rockefeller ran for the Republican presidential nomination in 1960, 1964, and 1968. He was the quintessential moderate Republican during a period when a revived conservative movement mobilized within the party, pulling it to the right and frustrating his presidential ambitions.
In the last decade of Rockefellerâs tenure as governor, he dedicated unprecedented physical, institutional, and monetary resources to a series of rehabilitative programs that approached drug addiction as a medical disease. Then, in January 1973, Rockefeller shocked the political establishment by declaring that these drug-treatment effortsâprograms he had championed for over a decadeâwere abject failures. He proposed instead that the state make the penalty for selling hard drugs, regardless of quantity, a lifetime in prison without any option of plea bargaining, probation, or parole. A few months later, the New York legislature answered Rockefellerâs call and passed a mildly diluted version of his proposal, enacting the harshest narcotics laws in the nation.
This bookâs first part traces the genesis and enactment of these punitive proposals, which came in time to be known as the Rockefeller Drug Laws. Chapter 1 explores the governing problems that set the stage for the 1973 drug laws and the ways different groups struggled to interpret and respond to them. It chronicles New Yorkâs efforts to manage heroin through drug rehabilitation and explores how the varied therapeutic approaches coexisted with criminalization. Chapter 2 explores the ways Rockefellerâs 1973 tough proposal attempted to resolve the governing problems that arose from the therapeutic regime. It analyzes the ideological and political work accomplished by the tough proposal and the response by policymakers, opponents, drug users, and the diverse members of the general public.
Political and media narratives tethered the âdrug problemâ to political upheaval, economic change, and rising crime rates, which inflamed public anxiety. There was no consensus about how to respond: politicians and their constituents rushed into the fray offering a host of diverse interpretations of the problem and appropriate reactions. Far from purely elite, rarified policy debates, people from all quarters shaped and engaged these questions. From prisons to the state capital to neighborhood meetings to newspapersâ editorial pages to new drug-treatment groups, people wrestled over what caused drug use and what authority and strategies were best employed to manage it. Did drug abuse result from individual pathology, either criminality or illness? Did it originate in certain suspect spaces or cultures? Were drug abuse and drug markets a function of larger social and economic structures or perhaps a permanent feature of American culture? How should society respond to widespread drug use and illicit drug markets: punitive sanction, coerced medical treatment, rehabilitation directed and controlled by exâdrug users, legalization, or, perhaps, revolution? Hashing out these questions through drug-policy debates not only helped produce popular knowledge about the stateâs capacity to manage drug users and sellers. It ultimately also amplified some narratives about the causes of addiction, crime, urban disorder, and social inequality and drowned out others.
When Nelson Rockefeller proposed his draconian drug penalties in 1973, he presented them as a rupture with the recent pastâa sharp repudiation of the drug-treatment programs he had championed for almost a decade. Many scholars and commentators have largely echoed this assessment, positioning the Rockefeller Drug Laws as the origins of the modern, punitive War on Drugs. There is no doubt that the political theater of enacting these policies reverberated nationally and dramatically escalated the prescribed penalties for selling illicit drugs. But emphasizing only the radical departure the laws entailed risks obscuring the continuities with the earlier period and impeding our ability to understand the transformation. Carefully locating Rockefellerâs dramatic proposal in the longer history of the stateâs efforts to manage drug use and street crime reveals that the 1973 policy both repudiated and built upon the treatment regime that came before them.
Contemporary political rhetoric also obscured the complexities and continuities. A newspaper at the time captured the tidy narrative in the simple title: âDrug Addiction in NY: Once an Illness, Now a Crime.â1 Though Rockefeller emphasized drug rehabilitation before 1973 and penal sanction afterward, it is imperative analytically to recognize that criminalization and medicalization are concurrent, intertwined, and at times mutually dependent strategies. Rockefellerâand most other participants in these debatesânever categorically rejected a role for treatment or law enforcement. They more typically debated the appropriate balance between them. Policymakers endeavored to establish which strategy was appropriate for which groups: what enticements, services, and deterrents were needed to manage different consumers and sellers of illicit drugs. In other words, the architects of New Yorkâs drug policy were engaged in a (largely futile) effort to sort the various participants in the drug economy into distinct categories: between victims and perpetrators, addicts and pushers, or the redeemable and incorrigible. As has often been the case throughout the stateâs frustrated efforts to regulate intoxicating substances, a personâs social locationârace, ethnicity, neighborhood, gender, and classâhad a profound influence over where in the stateâs taxonomy he or she landed.
While rhetoric in the 1970s presented âaddictsâ and âpushersâ as stable, essential identities, these terms are best understood as artifacts of the ongoing historical struggles over narcotics. Instead of objective divisions within the social body, the distinct categories of drug users were actually constituted through debates over policy. The term âaddictâ sugges...