What drives Malta’s youth to drugs? They can’t afford a bloody beer

Drug-driving is becoming a bigger problem. But perhaps the answer isn’t another police press conference.

There is some worrying news coming from Malta’s roads.

And when I say worrying, I don't mean the usual Maltese sort of worrying, where someone has parked his BMW diagonally across a pavement, and everyone spends twenty minutes discussing it on Facebook.

This is rather more serious.

Drug use among young people is becoming an increasingly worrying problem, and there is growing concern about people getting behind the wheel after taking drugs.

Naturally, the first response is predictable.

More police.

More roadside checks.

More testing.

More penalties.

More powers.

And, presumably, another government press conference in which six people stand behind a table while one of them explains that "the authorities are taking this matter very seriously".

Which is reassuring.

Although I'm not entirely sure what the person who has just taken cocaine at 2am in Paceville is going to do with this information.

"Oh, dear. The police have increased their powers. Better call a Bolt."

No.

He's going to get into his car.

And that is the problem.

Malta has a driving problem anyway

Let's be honest.

Driving in Malta is already an extreme sport.

We have people overtaking on blind corners, people joining roundabouts as though they're entering the Monaco Grand Prix, and people who believe the correct speed for a 50km/h road is whatever the engine can physically achieve.

Indicators are apparently fitted to cars purely for decorative purposes.

The Highway Code is treated as more of a suggestion.

And every Maltese driver has developed the remarkable ability to become personally offended when somebody else obeys the speed limit.

Now add drugs to this.

Suddenly the man coming towards you on the wrong side of the road isn't merely a bad driver.

He may genuinely believe the road is somewhere else.

This is not ideal.

Particularly in Malta, where "pulling over" often means stopping directly in front of somebody's driveway and putting the hazard lights on.

But here's the uncomfortable bit

If we really want to deal with the problem, perhaps we should stop concentrating entirely on the people taking the drugs and start looking at the people selling them.

Because the supply is enormous.

And Malta isn't exactly the size of Texas.

It is a tiny island.

You would think that if the authorities really wanted to know where the drugs were coming from, they wouldn't need to hire Sherlock Holmes.

Yet somehow drugs appear to be remarkably easy to obtain.

You can order practically anything in Malta now.

Food.

Groceries.

Electronics.

A new phone case.

A replacement washing-machine part.

And, apparently, drugs.

We have created a delivery culture so efficient that you can order a burger at midnight and have it delivered before you've finished explaining to your wife why you weren't hungry when she asked you half an hour earlier.

The criminal market has noticed this.

The legitimate economy has spent years perfecting delivery.

The criminals have simply copied the business model.

No shop.

No rent.

No VAT.

No payroll.

No accountant.

No opening hours.

No health and safety inspection.

And no bloke from the council arriving to tell you that your sign is 4cm too large.

It's a remarkably efficient business.

And then there's the price of alcohol

This is where things get awkward.

Because we keep hearing that young people are drinking less.

Perhaps they are.

But perhaps we should ask ourselves why.

Going out for a few drinks in Malta isn't exactly cheap anymore.

You go out for dinner.

You have a couple of drinks.

Someone suggests Paceville.

You have another couple.

Someone wants to go somewhere else.

Then you wake up the next morning and discover you've spent €170 and apparently bought three drinks for people you don't even remember meeting.

Meanwhile, the illegal drug market doesn't have to pay tax.

The club does.

The person selling cocaine doesn't have to pay excise duty.

The person selling beer does.

The drug dealer doesn't need a liquor licence.

The bar does.

The drug dealer doesn't have to employ somebody to clean the toilets at 2am.

The bar does.

The drug dealer doesn't have to comply with every regulation known to Maltese bureaucracy.

The bar does.

So we have somehow managed to create a situation where the legal product is heavily taxed and regulated while the illegal product operates like an underground Amazon Prime.

And then we're surprised when young people notice.

The Maltese solution

Naturally, our solution will be to create a strategy.

There will be a strategy for preventing drug driving.

Then a framework for implementing the strategy.

Then a consultation on the framework.

Then an inter-ministerial working group.

Then another strategy.

Eventually somebody will announce that Malta is taking a "zero tolerance approach".

This will be followed by a photograph of several people looking extremely serious.

And somewhere in the background, a bloke will be illegally parked on double yellow lines.

Because Malta.

We love zero tolerance.

We just don't seem particularly interested in zero parking.

I'm not suggesting we sell cocaine at Scotts

Before someone starts writing an angry Facebook comment, I'm not saying we should put cocaine next to the toothpaste at the local supermarket.

Although given the number of things you can already buy from some convenience shops at 2am, I wouldn't be completely astonished.

I've never been particularly enthusiastic about legalising drugs.

Cannabis doesn't appeal to me.

I don't particularly enjoy the smell, and the idea of walking through Sliema on a summer evening surrounded by the aroma of cannabis, cigarette smoke, grilled meat and somebody's overflowing rubbish bin doesn't exactly sound like progress.

And I certainly don't want Malta turning into one giant open-air experiment.

But we have to be honest about something.

The current system clearly isn't stopping people getting drugs.

If drugs are already easily available, then simply saying "drugs are illegal" isn't much of a strategy.

That's like putting a sign outside a burglar's house saying:

PLEASE DO NOT BURGLARISE.

Very clear.

Probably not terribly effective.

And then there are our children

This is the part that matters most.

Every parent worries about their children getting involved with drugs.

And rightly so.

If drugs become cheaper, easier to obtain and more socially normal, we risk making the problem worse.

But if alcohol becomes increasingly expensive while illegal drugs remain relatively cheap, we are creating a rather strange playing field.

The traditional Maltese night out used to be simple.

Meet your friends.

Have a few beers.

Eat something.

Talk absolute rubbish.

Argue about politics.

Go home.

Maybe have a pastizz before bed.

That's practically a national institution.

We shouldn't be surprised if young people start looking for alternatives when the traditional night out becomes increasingly expensive.

And then there's driving

This is where I draw the line.

If somebody is driving towards me after two beers, I'm worried.

If somebody has had a few too many and is weaving across the road, I'm very worried.

But if the person coming towards me has taken two grams of something rather more adventurous?

That's terrifying.

Because a drunk driver might think he's Lewis Hamilton.

A drugged driver might think he's Lewis Hamilton, driving on the moon, while being chased by the Maltese Civil Protection Department.

And frankly, I don't want to meet him at the next roundabout.

So perhaps we need a different conversation

Maybe the answer isn't simply more police.

Maybe it isn't simply tougher sentences.

Maybe it isn't another awareness campaign featuring a photograph of a smashed car and the words DRUGS DESTROY LIVES.

We already know that.

The question is:

Why are drugs so readily available?

Why are they so cheap?

Why are young people attracted to them?

Why is the illegal market able to operate so efficiently?

And why does the legitimate economy have to jump through approximately 47 hoops to sell somebody a pint while the bloke selling illegal drugs can apparently conduct his entire business through WhatsApp?

Those are the questions worth answering.

Because otherwise we will do what Malta does best.

We will have a meeting.

We will announce a strategy.

We will hold a press conference.

We will congratulate ourselves on taking decisive action.

And then, three months later, we'll discover that nothing has changed.

Meanwhile, somewhere between St Julian's and Bugibba, somebody will be selling drugs.

Somebody will be buying them.

Somebody will be driving home afterwards.

And the rest of us will be sitting in traffic wondering why the idiot in front isn't moving.

He may be texting.

He may be drunk.

He may be high.

Or, given Malta's driving standards, he may simply be a completely normal driver.

And that, frankly, might be the most frightening possibility of all.