HomeMy WebLinkAbout2019/02/19 Written Communications - Bailey 10
Marijuana, Mental Illness, and Violence ROW L aday
GYSGT U3NIC (Ret)
677 G S. Spc. 107
Chub fie, CA 91910
Alex Berens on
Author, Tell Your Children: The Truth About Maryuano, Mental Illness, and Violence
Alex Berenson is a graduate of Yale University with degrees in history
and economics. He began his career in journalism in 1994 as a business
reporter for the Denver Post,joined the financial news website
TheStreet.com in 1996, and worked as an investigative reporter for The
New York Times from 1999 to 2010, during which time he also served
two stints as an Iraq War correspondent. In 2006 he published The
Faithful Spy, which won the 2007 Edgar Award for best first novel from
the Mystery Writers of America. He has published ten additional novels
and two nonfiction books, The Number: How the Drive for Quarterly Earnings Corrupted Wall
Street and Corporate America and Tell Your Children: The Truth About Maryuana, Mental Illness,
and Violence.
The following is adapted from a speech delivered on January 15, 2019, at Hillsdale College's Allan P.
Kirby,Jr. Center for Constitutional Studies and Citizenship in Washington, D.C.
Seventy miles northwest of New York City is a hospital that looks like a prison, its drab brick
buildings wrapped in layers of fencing and barbed wire. This grim facility is called the Mid-
Hudson Forensic Psychiatric Institute. It's one of three places the state of New York sends the
criminally mentally ill—defendants judged not guilty by reason of insanity.
Until recently, my wife Jackie—Dr.Jacqueline Berenson—was a senior psychiatrist there. Many of
Mid-Hudson's 300 patients are killers and arsonists. At least one is a cannibal. Most have been
diagnosed with psychotic disorders like schizophrenia that provoked them to violence against
family members or strangers.
A couple of years ago, Jackie was telling me about a patient. In passing, she said something like,
Of course he'd been smoking pot his whole life.
Of course? I said.
Yes, they all smoke.
So marijuana causes schizophrenia?
I was surprised, to say the least. I tended to be a libertarian on drugs. Years before, I'd covered the
pharmaceutical industry for The New York Times. I was aware of the claims about marijuana as
medicine, and I'd watched the slow spread of legalized cannabis without much interest.
'
Jackie would have been within her rights to say, I know what I'm talking about, unlike you. Instead
she offered something neutral like, I think that's what the big studies say. You should read them.
So I did. The big studies, the little ones, and all the rest. I read everything I could find. I talked to
every psychiatrist and brain scientist who would talk to me. And I soon realized that in all my
years as a journalist I had never seen a story where the gap between insider and outsider
knowledge was so great, or the stakes so high.
I began to wonder why—with the stocks of cannabis companies soaring and politicians
promoting legalization as a low-risk way to raise tax revenue and reduce crime—I had never
heard the truth about marijuana, mental illness, and violence.
Over the last 30 years, psychiatrists and epidemiologists have turned speculation about
marijuana's dangers into science. Yet over the same period, a shrewd and expensive lobbying
campaign has pushed public attitudes about marijuana the other way. And the effects are now
becoming apparent.
Almost everything you think you know about the health effects of cannabis, almost everything
advocates and the media have told you for a generation, is wrong.
They've told you marijuana has many different medical uses. In reality marijuana and THC, its
active ingredient, have been shown to work only in a few narrow conditions. They are most
commonly prescribed for pain relief. But they are rarely tested against other pain relief drugs like
ibuprofen—and in July, a large four-year study of patients with chronic pain in Australia showed
cannabis use was associated with greater pain over time.
They've told you cannabis can stem opioid use—"Two new studies show how marijuana can help
fight the opioid epidemic," according to Wonkblog, a Washington Post website, in April 2018—
and that marijuana's effects as a painkiller make it a potential substitute for opiates. In reality, like
alcohol, marijuana is too weak as a painkiller to work for most people who truly need opiates,
such as terminal cancer patients. Even cannabis advocates, like Rob Kan)pia, the co-founder of the
Marijuana Policy Project, acknowledge that they have always viewed medical marijuana laws
primarily as a way to protect recreational users.
As for the marijuana-reduces-opiate-use theory, it is based largely on a single paper comparing
overdose deaths by state before 2010 to the spread of medical marijuana laws—and the paper's
finding is probably a result of simple geographic coincidence. The opiate epidemic began in
Appalachia, while the first states to legalize medical marijuana were in the West. Since 2010, as
both the epidemic and medical marijuana laws have spread nationally, the finding has vanished.
And the United States, the Western country with the most cannabis use, also has by far the worst
problem with opioids.
i
Research on individual users—a better way to trace cause and effect than looking at aggregate
state-level data--consistently shows that marijuana use leads to other drug use. For example, a
January 2018 paper in the American Journal of Psychiatry showed that people who used cannabis
in 2001 were almost three times as likely to use opiates three years later, even after adjusting for
other potential risks.
Most of all, advocates have told you that marijuana is not just safe for people with psychiatric
problems like depression, but that it is a potential treatment for those patients. On its website, the
cannabis delivery service Eaze offers the "Best Mar�juana Strains and Products for Treating
Anxiety." "How Does Cannabis Help Depression?" is the topic of an article on Leafly, the largest
cannabis website. But a mountain of peer-reviewed research in top medical journals shows that
marijuana can cause or worsen severe mental illness, especially psychosis, the medical term for a
break from reality. Teenagers who smoke marijuana regularly are about three times as likely to
develop schizophrenia, the most devastating psychotic disorder.
After an exhaustive review, the National Academy of Medicine found in 2017 that "cannabis use is
likely to increase the risk of developing schizophrenia and other psychoses; the higher the use,
the greater the risk." Also that "regular cannabis use is likely to increase the risk for developing
social anxiety disorder."
Over the past decade, as legalization has spread, patterns of marijuana use—and the drug
itself—have changed in dangerous ways.
Legalization has not led to a huge increase in people using the drug casually. About 15 percent of
Americans used cannabis at least once in 2017, up from ten percent in 2006, according to a large
federal study called the National Survey on Drug Use and Health. (By contrast, about 65 percent
of Americans had a drink in the last year.) But the number of Americans who use cannabis heavily
is soaring. In 2006, about three million Americans reported using cannabis at least 300 times a
year, the standard for daily use. By 2017, that number had nearly tripled, to eight million,
approaching the twelve million Americans who drank alcohol every day. Put another way, one in
15 drinkers consumed alcohol daily, about one in five marijuana users used cannabis that often.
Cannabis users today are also consuming a drug that is far more potent than ever before, as
measured by the amount of THC—delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol, the chemical in cannabis
responsible for its psychoactive effects—it contains. In the 1970s, the last time this many
Americans used cannabis, most marijuana contained less than two percent THC. Today, marijuana
routinely contains 20 to 25 percent THC, thanks to sophisticated farming and cloning
techniques—as well as to a demand by users for cannabis that produces a stronger high more
quickly. In states where cannabis is legal, many users prefer extracts that are nearly pure THC.
Think of the difference between near-beer and a martini, or even grain alcohol, to understand the
difference.
V
These new patterns of use have caused problems with the drug to soar. In 2014, people who had
diagnosable cannabis use disorder, the medical term for marijuana abuse or addiction, made up
about 1.5 percent of Americans. But they accounted for eleven percent of all the psychosis cases
in emergency rooms-90,000 cases, 250 a day, triple the number in 2006. In states like Colorado,
emergency room physicians have become experts on dealing with cannabis-induced psychosis.
Cannabis advocates often argue that the drug can't be as neurotoxic as studies suggest, because
otherwise Western countries would have seen population-wide increases in psychosis alongside
rising use. In reality, accurately tracking psychosis cases is impossible in the United States. The
government carefully tracks diseases like cancer with central registries, but no such registry exists
for schizophrenia or other severe mental illnesses.
On the other hand, research from Finland and Denmark, two countries that track mental illness
more comprehensively, shows a significant increase in psychosis since 2000, following an increase
in cannabis use. And in September of last year, a large federal survey found a rise in serious
mental illness in the United States as well, especially among young adults, the heaviest users of
cannabis.
According to this latter study, 7.5 percent of adults age 18-25 met the criteria for serious mental
illness in 2017, double the rate in 2008. What's especially striking is that adolescents age 12-17
don't show these increases in cannabis use and severe mental illness.
A caveat: this federal survey doesn't count individual cases, and it lumps psychosis with other
severe mental illness. So it isn't as accurate as the Finnish or Danish studies. Nor do any of these
studies prove that rising cannabis use has caused population-wide increases in psychosis or other
mental illness. The most that can be said is that they offer intriguing evidence of a link.
Advocates for people with mental illness do not like discussing the link between schizophrenia
and crime. They fear it will stigmatize people with the disease. "Most people with mental illness
are not violent," the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) explains on its website. But
wishing away the link can't make it disappear. In truth, psychosis is a shockingly high risk factor
for violence. The best analysis came in a 2009 paper in PLOS Medicine by Dr. Seena Fazel, an
Oxford University psychiatrist and epidemiologist. Drawing on earlier studies, the paper found
that people with schizophrenia are five times as likely to commit violent crimes as healthy people,
and almost 20 times as likely to commit homicide.
NAMI's statement that most people with mental illness are not violent is of course accurate, given
that "most" simply means "more than half`; but it is deeply misleading. Schizophrenia is rare. But
people with the disorder commit an appreciable fraction of all murders, in the range of six to nine
percent.
"The best way to deal with the stigma is to reduce the violence," says Dr. Sheilagh Hodgins, a
professor at the University of Montreal who has studied mental illness and violence for more than
30 years.
Today that risk is translating into real-world impacts. Before states legalized recreational cannabis,
advocates said that legalization would let police focus on hardened criminals rather than
marijuana smokers and thus reduce violent crime. Some advocates go so far as to claim that
legalization hos reduced violent crime. In a 2017 speech calling for federal legalization, U.S.
Senator Cory Booker said that "states [that have legalized marijuana] are seeing decreases in
violent crime." He was wrong.
The first four states to legalize marijuana for recreational use were Colorado and Washington in
2014 and Alaska and Oregon in 2015. Combined, those four states had about 450 murders and
30,300 aggravated assaults in 2013. Last year, they had almost 620 murders and 38,000
aggravated assaults—an increase of 37 percent for murders and 25 percent for aggravated
assaults, far greater than the national increase, even after accounting for differences in population
growth.
Knowing exactly how much of the increase is related to cannabis is impossible without
researching every crime. But police reports, news stories, and arrest warrants suggest a close link
in many cases. For example, last September, police in Longmont, Colorado, arrested Daniel Lopez
for stabbing his brother Thomas to death as a neighbor watched. Daniel Lopez had been
diagnosed with schizophrenia and was "self-medicating" with marijuana, according to an arrest
affidavit.
In every state, not just those where marijuana is legal, cases like Lopez's are far more common
than either cannabis or mental illness advocates acknowledge. Cannabis is also associated with a
disturbing number of child deaths from abuse and neglect—many more than alcohol, and more
than cocaine, methamphetamines, and opioids combined—according to reports from Texas, one
of the few states to provide detailed information on drug use by perpetrators.
These crimes rarely receive more than local attention. Psychosis-induced violence takes
particularly ugly forms and is frequently directed at helpless family members. The elite national
media prefers to ignore the crimes as tabloid fodder. Even police departments, which see this
violence up close, have been slow to recognize the trend, in part because the epidemic of opioid
overdose deaths has overwhelmed them.
So the black tide of psychosis and the red tide of violence are rising steadily, almost unnoticed, on
a slow green wave.
For centuries, people worldwide have understood that cannabis causes mental illness and
violence just as they've known that opiates cause addiction and overdose. Hard data on the
relationship between marijuana and madness dates back 150 years, to British asylum registers in
India. Yet 20 years ago, the United States moved to encourage wider use of cannabis and opiates.
In both cases, we decided we could outsmart these drugs—that we could have their benefits
without their costs. And in both cases we were wrong. Opiates are riskier, and the overdose
deaths they cause a more imminent crisis, so we have focused on those. But soon enough the
mental illness and violence that follow cannabis use will also be too widespread to ignore.
Whether to use cannabis, or any drug, is a personal decision. Whether cannabis should be legal is
a political issue. But its precise legal status is far less important than making sure that anyone who
uses it is aware of its risks. Most cigarette smokers don't die of lung cancer. But we have made it
widely known that cigarettes cause cancer, full stop. Most people who drink and drive don't have
fatal accidents. But we have highlighted the cases of those who do.
We need equally unambiguous and well-funded advertising campaigns on the risks of cannabis.
Instead, we are now in the worst of all worlds. Marijuana is legal in some states, illegal in others,
dangerously potent, and sold without warnings everywhere.
But before we can do anything, we specially cannabis advocates and those in the elite media
who have for too long credulously accepted their claims—need to come to terms with the truth
about the science on marijuana. That adjustment may be painful. But the alternative is far worse,
as the patients at Mid-Hudson Forensic Psychiatric Institute—and their victims—know.