Reason Magazine - Contributors

Say It Ain't So, Ricky!

paul@norml.org (Paul Armentano) Stepcakey@shaw.ca (Mark Stepnoski) — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 15:04:00 EDT

Can't tell the difference between the sports pages and the police blotter? You're not the only one. These days it seems that everywhere you turn, another star athlete—from Elijah Dukes to Ricky Williams—is in hot water over drugs.

Not for using a drug like alcohol, which recently claimed the life of St. Louis Cardinals pitcher Josh Hancock. And not for thee use of performance enhancing substances like amphetamines, which are rumored to be favored among baseball's major-leaguers. And certainly not for the use of anabolic steroids, which seem only to pique the media's interest when used by pro-wrestlers who then murder their wife and six-year-old son.

Rather, it seems that the sports world—and the NFL in particular—is fixated on pot.

This spring the 'big story' was that three of the NFL's top draft picks—Georgia Tech wide receiver Calvin Johnson, Clemson defensive end Gaines Adams, and Louisville defensive tackle Amobi Okoye—admitted experimenting with marijuana while in college. Never mind that all three had recently tested negative for pot on their NFL-mandated drug tests. And never mind that more than half of America's 18 to 25-year-olds have engaged in precisely the same behavior. Sports writers nationwide were still eager to obsess on the athletes' "youthful indiscretions," as if they were a major news story.

In reaction to the media's salvo, spokesmen for the NFL commented that the players' past pot use is a reflection upon their "character." NFL officials declined to comment on why the league tests specifically for pot-a non-performance enhancing substance-but fails to screen for known athletic enhancing agents like human growth hormone.

Earlier this summer, beleaguered Miami Dolphins running back Ricky Williams sparked a similar media maelstrom when he failed an NFL drug test for marijuana. Already having sat out multiple seasons as punishment for his off-field pot use—Williams claims he smokes marijuana to overcome social anxiety—the former NFL rushing champion likely faces another long, possibly lifetime, dismissal from professional football.

According to the US government, approximately 40 percent of the US population over age 12—that's some 94 million Americans—admit they've smoked pot. This includes citizens from all walks of life, including pro athletes. Indeed, The New York Times once estimated that 70 percent of NBA players smoke marijuana. (Unlike the NFL, the NBA doesn't suspend players for pot.) If the use of marijuana was particularly damaging to health or society, the results would be readily apparent on ESPN every evening.

But pro-athletes are role models, critics inevitably charge. Shouldn't they present a wholesome image to America's young people? Ideally, the answer is yes. Reality is another matter.

It's time for the sports world to admit a dirty little secret: professional athletics are, and have long been, awash in intoxicants. The Colorado Rockies play baseball at Coors Field. Athletes celebrate playoff wins by dousing one another with champagne. For over a decade, some of women's tennis most prestigious events were sponsored by Virginia Slims. Ditto for NASCAR, which until 2003 had many of its biggest races subsidized by Winston cigarettes. There isn't a child alive who watched pro football during the 1980s that doesn't know that Miller Lite beer "tastes great" and is "less filling." Yet the NFL wants us to believe that allowing Ricky Williams to play pro ball would 'send the wrong message' to America's children?

Several weeks ago—around the same time the sports media was buzzing over Calvin Johnson's past pot use—the 4th Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals upheld the 366-day sentence of Dr. James Shortt. In case you haven't heard of him, Schortt, a physician, was recently convicted of illegally distributing steroids and human growth hormone to at least seven Carolina Panthers players from 2002 to 2004, including several players who were on the field during the team's 2003 Super Bowl season.

Earlier this month, former major league pitcher Rod Beck was found dead in his suburban Phoenix home at age 38. As a player, Beck had a well-known history of alcohol abuse and had a least one stint in drug rehab before his baseball career ended in 2004.

One might expect these latter events to elicit soul-searching throughout the sport's world. Regrettably, it appears that the many in the media and professional sports would rather just focus on 'reefer madness.'

Paul Armentano is the senior policy analyst for NORML and the NORML Foundation in Washington, DC. Mark Stepnoski is a five-time NFL Pro-Bowler who won two Super Bowl championships with the Dallas Cowboys (1993, 1994). He retired from the NFL in 2001 and now serves of NORML's Advisory Board.

Drug Test Nation

paul@norml.org (Paul Armentano) — Wed, 09 Feb 2005 00:00:00 EST

One look at the Cozart RapiScan, a self-proclaimed complete "on-site oral fluid drugs of abuse diagnostic system," and it's obvious: This isn't your parents' drug test. Gone are the golden days of the plastic collection cup. The Cozart saliva testing system comes in a spiffy silver suitcase and consists of an oral fluid collection swab, a disposable test cartridge, its own handheld digital computer, and a portable printer "for a permanent record of test results."

The official U.S. distributor of the RapiScan, The Dominion Diagnostics Corporation, was one of many hi-tech exhibitors hawking their wares in Tampa last spring at a meeting of corporate drug testers, toxicologists and law enforcement officers, sponsored, in part, by the Office of National Drug Control Policy (a.k.a. the Drug Czar's office). But this White House–backed gathering was no trade show. The purpose of this symposium—and the intent of the bodily fluid snoopers in attendance—was to call for an unprecedented, government-mandated expansion of both drug testing and the application of new drug screening technology—and not just for those within the workplace. And the pee police may be close to getting their wish.

Random drug testing in the workplace rose to prominence in the mid-to-late 1980s, embodying the zeitgeist of the nation's "War on Drugs" fervor. In 1986 President Ronald Reagan signed Executive Order 12564, requiring federal employees to be drug free on and off the job. Four years later the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-4 in the case National Treasury Employees Union v. Von Raab that suspicionless employee drug testing does not violate the Constitution's Fourth Amendment protections against unreasonable searches. These executive and judicial moves paved the way for the unprecedented growth of workplace drug testing within the public and private sector. By 1991, 62 percent of large U.S. companies were forcing their employees to "drop trou" as a condition of employment—a figure that in recent years has dropped slightly, but still stands at roughly 50 percent. Of the nation's approximately 1.6 million federal workers, some 400,000 may now undergo some form of drug screening.

Not surprisingly, this surge in the number of Americans peeing on demand has coincided with an explosion of alternative drug testing technology. In recent years, firms touting unconventional drug screens of citizens' hair, sweat, and saliva have emerged, each proclaiming its state-of-the-art gadgetry to be the heir apparent to the piss cup. For the most part, however, employers have been unconvinced. Despite promises of the tests' purported "increased sensitivity" and "less intrusive nature," federal and private employers have generally been unwilling to rely on such Brave New World methods, virtually all of which remain largely unproved by the scientific literature and lack approval from the Food and Drug Association.

Thanks to the work of groups like DATIA, the Drug & Alcohol Testing Industries Association, things are about to change.

According to its website, DATIA is "a 1,200-member national trade association representing the full spectrum of alcohol and drug testing service agents, including laboratories, collection sites, ... and [drug] testing device manufacturers." In layman's terms, it's the lobbying arm for the drug testing industry.

DATIA's mission includes "working closely with key policy makers in federal agencies and in Congress to ensure that the interests of the industry are heard." Recently, the group's chief focus has been to push the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services to amend the federal workplace guidelines so that federal agencies can conduct drug screenings of employees' hair, sweat, and saliva. (Existing federal regulations mandate drug testing programs rely on urine screens only.)

Such a change, DATIA hopes, might finally kick-start private employers to use alternative specimen technology. It would also financially benefit several of the organization's members, many of whom have a significant financial stake in the expanded use of alternative drug screening methods.

Last April, the government finally granted DATIA's wish, proposing to overhaul the feds' drug testing regulations to encourage agencies to use alternative testing methods. Ironically, the proposal came at a time when positive drug tests among federal employees are at record lows. (Of those federal employees tested for drugs last year, only 532 peed positive, at a staggering cost to taxpayers of $11,466 per positive test result.)

Meanwhile, the agency backing the plan, the Department of Health and Human Services' Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), has criticized the new technologies as seriously flawed. According to SAMHSA's April 2004 "Proposed Revisions to Mandatory Guidelines for Workplace Drug Testing," hair testing, saliva testing, and sweat patch testing all have significant limitations.

In the case of hair testing, which detects drug metabolites (inactive compounds indicative of past drug use) that have passively diffused from the blood stream to the base of the hair follicle, the agency warns that both environmental contamination and hair color can significantly impact the accuracy of the test. "The role of hair color is... a major concern," SAMHSA says, noting that "data show that higher concentrations of some drugs are found in dark hair when compared to blond or red hair." Studies have demonstrated similar testing inconsistencies when screening for drugs among ethnic minorities, particularly African Americans.

Environmental contamination—such as a scenario where the individual to be tested was recently present in a room where others smoked marijuana—also may negatively affect the accuracy of saliva testing, SAMHSA says. As a result, the feds are encouraging agencies to also collect a urine sample "at the same time the oral fluid specimen is obtained" for confirmation testing—although doing so will more than double the high costs already associated with specimen collection while, at the same time, likely yielding confounding results.

Regarding the efficiency of sweat patch testing, SAMHSA notes, "The Department knows from direct experience ... that some individuals may not be able to wear the sweat patch for the optimal period of time."

The fact that federal bureaucrats are willing to brush aside such technological concerns in their rush to break bread with the drug testing industry is illustrative of the growing political power wielded by America's bodily fluid inspectors. But for the drug detection cabal, invasive testing by employers is just the first step. The next is to extend bodily-fluid-sniffing from the workplace to the roadways—and enlist the full coercive powers of the state to do so.

For the past several years drug testing superhawk Michael Walsh, a former Associate Director to the Drug Czar and current president of the drug testing and lobby organization the Walsh Group, has led the charge to apply workplace drug testing standards and regulations to all licensed U.S. drivers. In 2002, Walsh partnered with the White House to lobby state legislatures to amend their drugged driving laws, arguing that states should no longer require "impairment" as a necessary condition for prosecution. Instead, Walsh asserted that prosecutors simply charge all drivers who test positive for any level of drugs or drug metabolites as a criminal drugged driver—even if the motorist is neither under the influence nor impaired to drive!

As a result of Walsh's lobbying efforts, eleven states—Arizona, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Utah, and Wisconsin—have now adopted such legislation, known as "zero tolerance per se" laws. At last spring's conference in Tampa, Walsh and his peers demanded Congress get into the act and pass legislation mandating all 50 states to enact models of his zero tolerance bill. Sure enough, federal politicians are champing at the bit to do just that.

Less than one month after the Tampa symposium, bi-partisan legislation was introduced in Congress granting police the power to drug test drivers and arrest anyone found to have "any detectable amount of a controlled substance ... present in the person's blood, urine, saliva, or other bodily substance." Despite the proposal's purposefully misleading title, H.R. 3922: The Drug Impaired Driving Enforcement Act, did not, in fact, require motorists to be identifiably impaired or intoxicated to be criminally charged with the crime of "drugged driving." Rather, as in the workplace, subjects need only test positive for inert drug metabolites (which, in the case of marijuana, may linger in the urine for days or even weeks after smoking) to be found guilty. Only this time, violators won't be losing their jobs; they'll be going to jail.

Despite H.R. 3922's sweeping intent to criminalize otherwise non-criminal behavior (driving while sober), congressional representatives in the summer of 2004 added the measure to the transportation reauthorization bill and promptly rubber-stamped it through the House without so much as a single hearing. However, much to federal lawmakers' chagrin (and, no doubt, to the disappointment of many within the drug testing industry as well), the bill eventually died in conference committee.

That's not to say America's pee police won't be back for another round this year with new and even more expansive proposals. In Tampa, attendees contemplated plans to enact random roadside drug testing checkpoints, while DATIA's legislative agenda for 2005 focuses on expanding the prevalence of student drug screening. Like it or not, it's dangerously clear the drug testers will not rest until every American has submitted to their inspection, and with more and more politicians in their pockets, they just might succeed.

Lineman for Liberty

paul@norml.org (Paul Armentano) — Thu, 10 Apr 2003 00:00:00 EDT

Pro athletes aren't altogether uncommon on Capitol Hill. Former New York Knick Bill Bradley and NFL luminaries Steve Largent and Jack Kemp recently served prominent stints in Congress, and baseball Hall-of-Famer Jim Bunning continues to call Washington, DC his home away from home. Nevertheless, last month's appearance by former Dallas Cowboy Mark Stepnoski in the nation's capitol raised more than its share of political eyebrows.

Standing 6'2", with shoulder-length hair and a diamond-encrusted Super Bowl ring prominently displayed on his right hand, Stepnoski, 36, typically stands out in a crowd. His recent visit to Washington DC was no exception. But even more striking than his presence on Capitol Hill was his purpose: Mark Stepnoski is one of the nation's leading advocates for the liberalization of America's pot laws.

"Prohibition has been going on for decades and is a proven failure," he says. "Drugs are more prevalent than ever and [the number of Americans using drugs] has not changed ... My belief is that if something isn't working then it's time to try something else."

For Stepnoski, that "something else" includes immediately decriminalizing—and perhaps down the road, legalizing—marijuana. "It's hypocritical to imprison people for using a substance that's been scientifically proven to be safer than many other legal substances," he argues. "It makes no sense to imprison people for using a non-lethal product like marijuana."

Since retiring from the NFL in 2001 after 13 years playing center in Dallas, Houston and Tennessee, Stepnoski's gone full throttle to make pot decriminalization a political reality. He's traded his number-53 jersey for a suit and tie, and accepted a position as the president of the Texas chapter of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

"They most closely represented what I believed," Stepnoski says of his decision to align with NORML, which lobbies for the legalization of marijuana for medicinal and recreational purposes. "It doesn't make sense to use our fiscal resources imprisoning non-violent drug offenders, particularly marijuana smokers. It's counterproductive to spend $25,000 a year locking somebody up because they got caught with a couple of joints."

Stepnoski's first order of business is to persuade the Texas legislature to amend the state's notorious pot laws, which impose six-months in jail and a $2,000 fine for those caught with even minor amounts of weed. "I've lived in Texas on and off for 13 years, and I'm embarrassed by the fact that it has the highest incarceration rate in America," he says. In addition, more than half of Texas' estimated 104,000 annual drug-related arrests are for marijuana possession. Stepnoski hopes that passage of House Bill 715, which would reduce marijuana possession penalties of up to an ounce of pot to a fine-only offense, will help change that fact, but admits that the bill's chances this year are slim.

Nevertheless, it's likely that Stepnoski's second goal—to persuade the federal government to cease arresting pot smokers—may prove even more elusive, particularly given Washington's increasingly conservative political climate. When it comes to the notion of reevaluating the drug war, it appears Capitol Hill's "steel curtain" is even tougher than Pittsburgh's. Stepnoski, who recently spent two days in DC meeting with various members of Congress, still refuses to chalk up his recent visit as one for the loss column.

"Some of the aides agreed with me," he notes enthusiastically. "But getting their boss to agree is a whole different story. Too many of the old stereotypes still exist."

If anyone can help to break those stereotypes, it's Stepnoski. His academic honors (he was a member of the National Honors Society at Cathedral Prep high school in Erie, PA and a Hall of Fame scholar athlete at the University of Pittsburgh) and athletic credentials (Stepnoski played on two Super Bowl championship teams, made five consecutive Pro-Bowl appearances, and holds NFL "All-Decade" honors for the 1990s) speak for themselves. "Sure, drugs could destroy dreams if people choose not to be responsible about their use," says Stepnoski, who admits he smoked pot occasionally throughout his pro career, "but that describes such a small percentage of people over all who use drugs. For example, eighty million Americans have tried marijuana; if it destroyed dreams, we'd have a nation of broken dreams. Most people have better things to do than sit around getting high or drunk all day."

Stepnoski certainly did. At one point in his career, he started 48 consecutive games as an NFL center—a remarkable feat for such a physically punishing position. (Though he denies ever smoking marijuana prior to a game, Stepnoski does admit lighting up after games to help relieve the aches and pains he suffered on the playing field.) Today he brings that same drive and determination to his lobbying efforts, and refuses to be discouraged by critics who argue that his political beliefs send the "wrong message" to children.

"Just because I'm an advocate for a change in policy does not mean that I'm an advocate for [use of] the substance itself," he says. "I've come out and said that smoking marijuana occasionally has never prevented me from attaining the goals I've set for myself. How that sends the wrong message to someone I don't know. That's just giving an accurate account of my past."

Nor is Stepnoski discouraged by the reluctance of politicians to move forward on the drug reform issue. Rather, the five-time Pro Bowler believes that Congress will either catch up to the prevailing public opinion or be sacked by the voters.

"As time goes on, the political paradigm will shift in our favor because you can only argue with truth and reason for so long," Stepnoski concludes. "It's been said that the truth goes through three stages. First it's ridiculed. Then it's violently opposed. Then it's accepted as self-evident. I think right now we're somewhere between the 'violently opposed' and 'self-evident' stage, but hopefully a little closer to the latter than the former."

If so, the term Super Bowl may one day take on an entirely new meaning.