The tragic missteps of drug-related homicide laws – Capitol Weekly | Capitol Weekly

OPINION – I never wanted to be part of the war on drugs, but my family's experiences forced me to do so. My son Joel's struggle with drug abuse confronted me with the harsh realities of drug policy, bureaucratic hurdles and heartbreaking loss.

When we realized Joel needed help, we turned to Google. The only treatment centers that showed up were those that could afford a strong online presence. We were so determined to save our son, not knowing there were free or low-cost options. We didn't know about SAMHSA or other resources because we didn't know that world.

We spent $45,000 on a 30-day program that physically detoxified Joel but still left him mentally trapped in addiction. When the money ran out, the center gave us a list of rehab centers and wished us luck. After several stints in jail and rehab, Joel eventually entered a state-sponsored program under Assembly Bill 109 that offered a more holistic approach, including mental health care, job training, and medically assisted recovery. Joel remained sober for nearly four years during this program, but eventually relapsed and died on November 27, 2017.

I tell this story not only to express my grief, but also to shed light on the larger issue of how we treat drug users. Grieving parents naturally want someone to blame, and I understand the desire for harsh punishments for those who smuggle drugs. However, the current push for drug-induced homicide (DIH) laws is misguided and does not target the real criminals.

These laws could turn a 15-year-old selling pills on Snapchat or a mother sharing drugs at a barbecue into “dealers” facing murder charges. While such laws may deter casual sellers, they will not stop someone with a substance use disorder (SUD) from using and selling drugs. My son, who both used and sold drugs to fund his addiction, died with $600 in his pocket. He was part of a tragic cycle that DIH laws will not break.

By the time drugs reach the user, they have already passed through many hands, making it impossible to find the true source. People suffering from SUD often resort to desperate measures like robbery or prostitution to feed their addiction. They already face life-threatening risks on a daily basis—another law won't change that. My son, who also had heart disease, was denied a pacemaker because the surgeon didn't want to waste it on a “junkie.” After his release, homeless and without help, Joel went back to using drugs, even though he knew it could kill him. If death wasn't a deterrent, neither will a murder charge.

Proponents of DIH laws compare them to DUI laws, but that is a false equivalence. Even DUI laws, which are among the most commonly prosecuted laws, fail to prevent repeat offenders.

As we continue the war on drugs userwe must ask: Who wins? Simplistic solutions to complex problems only lead to overzealous prosecutions that destroy lives. We, the grieving parents, deeply understand the loss. But anger and revenge will not bring our children back – anger and revenge only consume.

That's why we advocate for Recovery Oriented Communities of Care. Families shouldn't have to scour the internet for resources; they should be readily available in every community. It's time for our governments at every level to recognize that the war on drugs has failed before and will fail again.

As panic grows over the “fentanyl crisis,” we risk returning to outdated, ineffective policies. Instead of performative policies aimed at punishment, we need evidence-based, community-focused solutions aimed at relief and rehabilitation. As the next deadly drug emerges, we must remember that drug users are not the enemy. Common sense must prevail.

Pattie Vargas is a mother, author, and certified grief counselor with The Resilient Journey and the Partnership To End Addiction.