In a recent opinions column ("In the drug war, keep your eyes on the real killer," April 22), Hunter Fast '12 was incensed by the suggestion that Brown students should be mindful of their participation in the illegal drug market. According to Fast, we should be proud to exercise our right to smoke marijuana, even if doing so can contribute to gang warfare, as Sofia Ortiz-Hinojosa '11 pointed out in her thoughtful column ("4/20 and the drug war," April 18). The blood is truly on the hands of prohibitionist governments, he says. But his position brings up a question that should be of great concern to all Brown students who care about political reform or believe in any sort of social contract — when can we justly break the law?
Though it may not be obvious on campus, recreational use of cannabis is distinctly illegal. In Rhode Island, possession of less than one kilogram of marijuana for non-medical purposes is punishable by a $200-$500 fine and up to one year in prison. Possession of more than one kilogram is a felony that results in markedly more severe punishments. In Rhode Island, about 1,000 people are arrested annually on marijuana charges, most of whom are not under the protection of an Ivy League university.
I will not challenge Fast on his assertion that these are bad laws. But there is a difference between a law that is misguided and a law that is fundamentally unjust. Many of us who support the legalization of marijuana still believe the government ought to ban the sale of extremely hazardous substances, such as heroin, if it can do so effectively. If you stand with me in that camp, then you do not believe that the prohibition of a drug violates our rights to privacy and free enterprise. Cannabis laws are based on inaccurate appraisals of the drug's dangers and of the government's ability to enforce this prohibition, but they do not infringe on any basic right.
In general, we are required to obey the law, even if we find its demands silly or disagreeable. This is because we recognize we ought to have a legal system by which we collectively decide which actions are permitted rather than leaving all choices to the individual. It is often the case that our neighbor deems a law disagreeable while we recognize it protects people. We expect him to follow it despite his disapproval. Therefore each of us, being liable to misjudge, ought to obey the law faithfully. We collectively petition to change laws, but we do not simply disobey them. Otherwise, we behave like a driver who fails to acknowledge a stop sign because he has decided that its placement is inconvenient and unnecessary. Even if he is correct, by granting himself an exception, he disregards the fact that there are rules of the road. And if he escapes punishment, he betrays his neighbor who is caught and fined for the same infraction.
Of course, marijuana prohibition is more than inconvenient. It contributes to drug wars and unduly penalizes many people. But is it reasonable to suggest that smoking more pot rectifies this situation? Certainly not. Indulging in illegal drugs enables black markets, which by nature are bad markets — unreliable, unaccountable and prone to any sort of abuse. In order to conscientiously consume pot, you need a really good reason.
Fast argues there is a good reason — current laws "infringe on fundamental rights to privacy, free enterprise and self-determination." If he is right that the government violates our essential liberties by attempting to quash drug markets, then an upstanding citizen ought to resist. Indeed, Fast is correct to encourage civil disobedience. Anyone whose spirit truly reviles a law ought to publicly declare it. Smoke proudly and face the criminal charges. After all, civil disobedience defeats injustice by demonstrating the wrong endured by honest citizens.
And that is precisely why pot smokers on campus are a far cry from noble crusaders. Fast may have "gratitude to live in a place where someone can commit an act of public civil disobedience … without facing legal repercussions," but has it occurred him that breaking the law without risk of penalty is a ridiculously weak form of civil disobedience, if it can even be called that? Is it at all concerning that this privileged type of "civil disobedience" is possible for Brown students but not for other residents of Providence, given the fact that Rhode Island still enforces marijuana prohibition? To suggest that we engage in any honest form of civil disobedience by smoking marijuana dishonors those who have made actual sacrifices to protect our liberties.
Sometimes, things are remarkably simple. Pot smokers at Brown enjoy getting high. At the very least, they should drop any pretensions of helping the world in the process.
Daniel Crowell '13 has jaywalked in the past but reckons that he is a decent-enough citizen. He can be reached at Daniel_Crowell@brown.edu.
