Source: The Economist, 3/29/97 Contact: Drugs Addictive justice Washington, DC SOMETHING strange is happening in a court in Washington, D. C. Judge Jose Lopez descends from his usual lofty position on the bench, walks to the middle of the court, and offers a deal to a dozen or so defendants. All are drug takers, and all are on minor charges. The judge offers them the chance to be put on probation, or even have their case dropped, rather than be sent to jail if they are found guilty. But first of all they must successfully complete an unusual scheme to wean them off drugs. All the defendants sign up. The scheme is unusual because, in the judge's words, it relies on a combination of "sanctions and love". It is also unusual because there is some evidence that it works. As a result dozens of similar schemes, known as "drug courts", are being set up across America. Twice a week the defendants are obliged to take a drugs test. If the test is positive, the judge delivers a punishment the next day. The punishments are short, but increasingly sharp if the defendant continues to test positive. As a first rap, the defendant spends three days sitting in the court, observing others being tried. If that doesn't work, he spends three days in jail; then seven days in a detoxification clinic; then seven days in jail; and soon. The "love" part of the scheme means, in practice, intensive drug treatment if the defendants demand it, plus concern and encouragement from the judge. A computer terminal on the bench gives him uptodate information, such as test results and progress reports, about all the defendants. Adele Harrell and Shannon Cavanagh of the Urban Institute, a thinktank, recently released preliminary results of a detailed study of the scheme, paid for by the federal government. Whereas only 13% of defendants treated in the usual way by the courts were free of drugs in the month before sentencing, those on the special scheme managed 32%. Since the scheme is voluntary, is it possible that it will tend to attract those who are anyway more eager to give up drugs. But there are good reasons to believe it actually alters behaviour. The punishments for drugtaking are immediate and predictable, unlike the usual court justice, which often involves long delays. This is ideal for addicts, many of whom think no further ahead than a day or so. The punishments are also a taste of what might come. "It's a wakeup call. You realise. . the risk of losing your freedom," says one defendant, having spent three long days observing a court. If drug courts do work, they could prove a powerful way to reduce America's demand for drugs. Most heroin and cocaine is bought by heavy rather than casual drugtakers and, on some estimates, around threequarters of these heavy drugtakers are arrested each year. People passing through the court system, therefore, seem to account for most illegal drug demand. The White House recently proposed more money for drug courts, from $30m in the 1997 fiscal year to $75m in 1998. In contrast, the cost of a nationwide scheme has been estimated at $4 billion a year. Yet, though it costs more to send defendants through a drug court than through probation, sending them to prison is roughly ten times more expensive. If there is a risk with setting up a national network of drug courts, it is that judges may not rise to the challenge. Drug courts require them to become rather like moral tutors, involved daily in the life of defendants. Judge Lopez relishes the role, sometimes punishing defendants, sometimes praising them, sometimes even hugging them. Other judges may prefer dispensing traditional justice from the comfortable distance of the bench.