Sense and sinsemilla

"Skunk 25 times more potent than resin sold a decade ago" - so the recent headlines go, accompanied by articles reporting record numbers of young people requiring drug rehabilitation, and worrying statistics about their cannabis usage. But just how much stronger is ‘the devil's lettuce' these days, and is it causing more young people to need treatment? Marilyn Head looks to bring a little balance to a subject often fraught with exaggeration and over-simplification.

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When the USCGC WAGB-4 naval icebreaker nosed into Wellington Harbour at the height of the Vietnam war, there were plenty of kindred spirits ashore eager to show the Americans a bit of Kiwi hospitality. The Americans were equally liberal with their thanks, distributing largesse in the form of the Durban Poison and Panama Red dope they'd picked up on the way over.

"The ships were full of people who dodged the draft - basically they had a choice of going to jail or doing service on the icebreakers," says one of the volunteer Kiwi hosts, happily reminiscing about the improved product brought to Aotearoa courtesy of the US Coastguard.

"The stuff we got in New Zealand then was rubbish, but this was really strong dope and they were all into it. I remember being onboard once and hearing the Captain broadcast, "And I don't want any more smoking on parade!" But times have changed, according to the same source. New imported strains and concentration in the form of sinsemilla, the more potent unfertilised flowering heads, have replaced the leaf and head mixtures of old, and New Zealand green is no longer inferior in comparison. Indeed, some of it packs an unexpected punch.

"I was offered some stuff recently and one drag was too much, though I hadn't smoked in a long time so that may account for it," he says. "What's around now is definitely stronger than the mild stuff we used to smoke 30 years ago, though, even then, there'd be the occasional super-strong stuff."

That's hardly surprising. In a country largely dependent on primary produce and a world leader in agricultural research, it would be pretty odd if a little electric puha hadn't come in for some improvement. But how much stronger are today's varieties of cannabis sativa really, and, more importantly, does it matter?

That question, fuelled by some sensational reports of a 25- to 30-fold increase in THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), the active psychotropic ingredient in cannabis, gave rise to much debate in 2007. Antonio Costa, Director of the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), histrionically advised the British government not to be "swayed by misguided notions of tolerance" for this "dangerous drug". The British Independent on Sunday carried this quote in its equally histrionic feature "Cannabis - An Apology", wherein it famously reversed its previously liberal stance in favour of decriminalising marijuana.

More disturbing, however, were reports of substantial increases in the number of people with cannabis related problems signing up to drug rehabilitation centres, high rates of cannabis use among juvenile offenders and young adults with psychosis, and evidence that cannabis use was starting at a younger age, increasing the risk of harmful patterns of use.

Now that the dust has settled, it may be useful to reflect on that debate and its impact on public health and drug policy, particularly with Metiria Turei's Member's Bill in the offing, which would amend the Misuse of Drugs Act 1975 and legalise cannabis for medicinal use. How valid are the claims that today's marijuana bears no resemblance to the mild hippie drug of choice thirty years ago, and can calls for its reclassification as a ‘hard' drug be justified?

Let's start with the science. Disregarding the significant problem imposed by dealing with an illegal substance and having to extrapolate evidence from a small proportion of confiscated products, inconsistently collected, stored and analysed over time by numerous different agencies, the data seem to show a small upward trend in THC levels, indicating a modest increase in potency in some cannabis products.

In 2005, the British Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs, for instance, reported little change in the strength of cannabis resin (hash) and imported herbal cannabis over the past two decades, but a two-fold increase in sinsemilla. Similarly, the THC content of indoor-cultivated herbal cannabis, including skunk, may have doubled from five to 10, or even tripled to 15, percent. That is hardly the 25-fold increase touted by some. And since indoor and homegrown cannabis is less likely to be detected and is far more widespread, the ‘average' must be derived from comparatively smaller and even less representative samples. Indeed, stepping up aerial surveillance to detect outdoor plantations in the 1980s and 1990s is often cited as the prime factor in driving cultivation indoors where new biotechnologies and complete environmental control have ultimately resulted in a fresher, stronger and more consistent product.

However, quibbling aside, there is no evidence to support claims of an across-the-board increase of the magnitude suggested, though sensational claims of super-strength dope are regularly invoked - in the 1960s, it was drug-crazed hippies synthesising THC, whereas today's demon is the high-tech production of genetically-selected sinsemilla "force-fed with fertilisers".

By comparing the least potent cannabis seized 30 years ago with the most potent today, it is possible, though illogical, to arrive at dramatic figures. But all this proves is that cannabis was, and still is, available in varying strengths.

Regardless of the average THC content of confiscated cannabis in any given year, high-powered premium varieties have always been available. Before prohibition, some were sold over the counter as patent medicines and tonics, and in the Netherlands, where cannabis is not banned, superstrong hash cookies are sold in cafés alongside milder ones. Interestingly, they are less popular. Thousands of years of cultivation have ensured a wide range of potencies and, while the development of sinsemilla, genetic selection and intensive indoor cultivation may have upped the average kick, that is not evidence that the range itself has increased.

The facts simply suggest that the average quality of cannabis has improved, just as the average supermarket apples are bigger, fresher and more blemish-free than those bought 30 years ago.

Doubling the psychotropic effect of a substance is likely, however, to be more contentious than doubling its vitamin C.

The standard user response, for which there is rather more anecdotal than scientific evidence, is that greater potency is not necessarily more dangerous because consumers tend to adjust their dose according to potency. Double strength dope, it is argued, could actually be more healthy because it reduces the amount of smoke one needs to inhale to get high. Similarly, the popularity of bongs and vaporisers to concentrate the hit and reduce or eliminate smoke inhalation suggests that the anti-smoking message is getting through.

There is a considerable difference between being high and being ‘wasted'. While most actually prefer the former, the concern is that users will readily habitualise to a stronger variety, which may make them more likely to move to stronger drugs.

Although there is no evidence for this, it raises some rather circular arguments about addiction/ dependence. While cannabis is not chemically addictive in the same way that heroin, amphetamines and nicotine are, it's clear that some people do develop a dependency - just as others depend on their early morning coffee or glass of wine with dinner but are not technically addicted. Whether such habits or dependencies impair health or competence, and to what extent opportunities to indulge them should be regulated, are key issues that are rarely addressed with any consistency.

There is a plethora of scientific research on the effects of cannabis, coffee and alcohol, variously interpreted as either beneficial or detrimental, yet the legal status and social response to each differ markedly.

For a minority of people, each of these substances can be troublesome, but only cannabis is illegal, which adds another dimension to concerns about those already marginalised through criminal offending and mental illness. Indeed, as Dr Sandy Simpson of Auckland Regional Forensic Psychiatric Services notes, criminal behaviour, mental illness and drug abuse are often so disastrously interwoven, that it is virtually impossible to extricate causal factors.

Leaving aside the question of whether changes in access, treatment and reporting practices have contributed to the figures for young people seeking treatment for cannabis related drug problems, there is suggestive evidence there has been an increase, though again it is difficult to discern a particular cause. In Britain, where it was reported that the numbers of young people in drug rehabilitation had nearly doubled in one year from 5,000 in 2005 to 9,500 in 2006, the use of cannabis amongst young people had actually gone down by almost a quarter in the past decade. But in Australia, which shows a similar increase, cannabis use appears to be rising.

It could hardly rise any more amongst juvenile offenders, however. The Australian Institute of Criminology reported in October 2005 that 94 percent of juvenile offenders had used cannabis, with 64 percent being regular users - a third more than those who regularly drank alcohol. Unfortunately, such statistics, coupled with neurological research exploring a tentative connection between cannabis use and psychosis, schizophrenia and depression, only served to fuel Australia's repressive National Cannabis Strategy the next year. Once again, rather than alerting authorities to the multiple factors contributing to antisocial behaviour and the possibilities of mitigating them in a highly vulnerable minority group, scientific research was used to justify continuation of the same failed policies - the ‘war on cannabis', recast as a hard drug, continues.

Though not a single clinical psychologist has cited cannabis as anything more than one factor in the cocktail of dysfunctional social interactions and mental health problems this group has suffered from, it remains the favourite scapegoat of the scientifically challenged, ensuring that resources that should be used to protect those at risk are channelled into largely ineffective enforcement and criminalisation of the young. Although there is a scandalous lack of research into what motivates people to start, stop or refrain from taking drugs, and the problematic behaviours associated with patterns of use, there is an equal paucity of research showing that prohibition has a deterrent effect. In New Zealand, cannabis related offences account for about 40 percent of all drug and anti-social offences, which comprise around 12 percent of crimes.

In spite of this, however, cannabis is freely available to high school students (and when they can waltz into tinny joints in their school uniform for ‘afternoon tea' and advertise it on Bebo, as one mother indignantly reported, one has to wonder how consistently the law is applied and to whom). Yet many young people are not interested in using it, and it is only problematic for some of those who do.

However, the consensus is that young people are starting to use cannabis at a younger age, more heavily and more regularly. Since these are identifiable risk factors, especially coupled with other social and psychological factors, there is real cause for concern that harmful patterns of use will become more prevalent.

The question is how to address this potential problem. The simplistic response would be to follow Australia's tough stance, which would be akin to its following George W's War on Terror - the same shonky reasoning, the same enhanced powers for the enforcers and the same massive fallout for innocent victims.

New Zealand's recent experience with the ‘Tuhoe Terrorists' and the extraordinary abrogation of human rights in the Immigration Bill are testimony to the ease with which we too can be caught up in rhetoric. Hence the danger of media misrepresentation and fear-mongering. It takes courage to swim against the tide, but a rational approach to cannabis use would be to accept that, as with alcohol, the drug is the constant, it's the human that is the variable, and legislate accordingly.

• Marilyn Head is a freelance writer based in Wellington.