POLITICS
Sex, drugs and the problems of being a Conservative in a libertarian world
BRUCE ANDERSON
Believing in Britain' is the official slo- gan for this year's Tory party conference, but there is also a subtext. As befits this new, inclusive party, it is taken from E.M. Forster: `only connect'. The Tories feel that they are having some success in this, and that they are now back in contact with public opinion, which is why the mood here is better than it has been at any conference since 1992.
By Tuesday evening, Mr Hague's speech was in an advanced state of preparation. Those involved with the leader's speech would normally expect to spend long confer- ence nights closeted with curling sandwiches and equally stale rejected prose, as inspira- tion contends with desperation. 'I expect I'll get ten minutes off during the week,' one of John Major's speechwriters once told me, `but not all at once.' It was even worse under Mrs T. But this year the speechwriters could be seen relaxing at the late-night receptions, trying unsuccessfully to hide their compla- cency. 'It's good,' they would say, obviously meaning it.
One recurring problem at all party confer- ences is maintaining momentum. It is harder for Labour, because their leader speaks in midweek, and after he finishes there are still two and a half days of downhill all the way to the Red Flag. The Tories at least know how to end on a climax; their problem is main- taining the excitement levels for the first three days. Michael Heseltine used to be the star of the early acts, with an unerring feel for the party's erogenous zones. But he has now been replaced, by William Hague him- self with the question-and-answer session, and also by Michael Portillo and Ann Wid- decombe.
Both made powerful speeches and both received ovations. In one respect, this was surprising. Both of them were challenging the instincts of a significant minority of their audience: Mr Portillo on racial and sexual prejudice, Miss Widdecombe on drugs.
Many of Ann Widdecombe's new policies are admirable. It would be desirable if pris- oners were made to work hard and if policemen spent less time form-filling and more time thief-taking. It does seem ridicu- lous that there should be so little connec- tion between the sentence handed out by the judge and the prison term actually served. Remission should never have become an entitlement, and in future it ought to be hard earned.
But this would create one practical prob- lem. There are arguments for making impris- onment virtually automatic for all burglars and housebreakers, with a sharply rising tar- iff for repeat offences. But do we really want to double the sentence served by the vast majority of prisoners? Honesty in sentencing is a desirable objective; to sentence a man to twice as long as he will actually serve is mere- ly a cynical attempt to mislead the public. This does not mean that most prisoners should be made to serve the full term to which they are currently sentenced. In most cases, honest sentencing should mean lower sentences.
That is merely a tricky detail. The objec- tions to the Widdecombe line on drugs are more fundamental. There are practical prob- lems, and a philosophical one. By what right does the state interfere with the private behaviour of adults? It would, of course, be easy to construct a theory of the state, which would enable it to do so, and a moral author- itarian such as Miss Widdecombe should find that task easy. But there's the rub; in such an intrusive state, in which our governors were entitled to give moral prohibitions the force of law, why stop at drugs? What about homo- sexuality, or adultery? Why not bring back censorship?
A generation ago, in the Hart/Devlin debates, Lord Devlin expounded a civilised authoritarianism which still had a powerful influence on public opinion and on the leg- islative process. Since then, the libertarians have won all along the line, and I suspect that their victory is irreversible. A few con- trarian spirits, such as Melanie Phillips and David Selbourne, still defend the lonely citadels of authoritarianism. Both regard the libertarians' triumph as a second Babylonian captivity and both of them have given elo- quent accounts of its destructive effects, especially on the upbringing of children. But neither has proposed any remotely practical way of bringing it to an end.
Given that most of the assumptions which govern social policy are now libertarian, the continued prohibition on drugs is an anoma- ly, even on its own terms. Cigarettes are far more dangerous than all the other drugs put together, yet 16-year-olds are allowed to pur- chase tobacco. Actuarially, a youngster who experiments with cocaine is at far less risk than one who experiments with tobacco. So a serious drugs policy ought to begin by addressing the menace of nicotine. There would seem to be a powerful case for ban- ning its use until adulthood, thus making it illegal for children to smoke. Those who sup- plied children with tobacco would therefore be subject to heavy penalties, including imprisonment. That would appear to be a strong argument, but it is wholly impractical. So are Miss Widdecombe's proposals on drugs.
Many police forces have virtually decrimi- nalised the use of cannabis, and they are especially reluctant to interfere with black users, even more so after the Macpherson Report. But obliging the police to recrimi- nalise cannabis would merely bring them into conflict with the young, many of whom are otherwise law-abiding. The contradictions in the current drugs legislation are not lost on young people who use drugs for recreational purposes, who have no intention of ending up in an opium den, and who are convinced that they are being subjected to the thought- less and hypocritical prejudices of an older generation.
These youngsters, who have learnt to cope with drugs in the same way that most older people cope with alcohol, also know that prohibition does not work. Up till now, indeed, it has not only failed. It has helped to create a thriving global industry and a drug/criminal underclass. Twentysomethings who might wish to take cocaine or marijuana in moderate doses, and possibly as a substi- tute for alcohol, would prefer that the police devoted their resources to catching under- class criminals rather than to busting middle- class dinner parties.
Legalisation of all drugs for those over 21, with cannabis and nicotine at 18, would not solve the problem, for there would still be a substantial criminal market. But it would at least be a coherent position, which might even win the reluctance acquiescence of the young. By reducing the market for illegal drugs, it would make drug-dealing less attractive — and less lucrative. It would also enable the police to concentrate their resources on a task in which they would have overwhelming public support: pre- venting the supply of dangerous drugs to minors.
In the hall, Miss Widdecombe was cheered, but a number of reflective younger Tories were dismayed. The more thought people had given to the drug problem, the less they tended to agree with Ann Widde- combe's simplistic views. It will be interesting to see how the debate develops.
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