As a senior police officer I saw first hand how the war on drugs fails

The National

28-04-2025

Now, every institution feels the need to brand itself with a glib, inspiring catchphrase. Nike says Just Do It. BMW promises The Ultimate Driving Machine.
Even we in the police have our own: Keeping People Safe. It's etched on the sides of patrol cars and echoed in briefings. Some vehicles even boast a slightly tweaked version – Keeping Communities Safe – as if that changes the reality on the ground. But is it true? Or is it just another sound bite crafted by comms departments and PR consultants?
READ MORE: Is Westminster stopping Scotland from tackling the drugs death crisis?
A new report lays bare a disturbing truth, one with particular weight here in Scotland. It reveals a cruel irony – when police successfully disrupt drug supply chains, more people die.
Seizing heroin, dismantling county lines operations, jailing mid-level dealers – these are still branded as 'wins.' But the aftermath tells a darker story. Users, cut off from familiar sources, turn to the streets, to the unknown, to the dangerous. And they die.
In communities such as Glasgow and Dundee, and throughout parts of the Highlands and islands, drug-related deaths have reached catastrophic levels.
Scotland has one of the highest drug death rates in Europe. That isn't just a grim statistic, it's a national shame. It's a stain on our conscience. Or should be.
We must confront an uncomfortable reality: We're not keeping people safe. We're sending a fire engine to douse the flames while pouring petrol on the blaze.
When we ramp up the so-called War on Drugs, the market doesn't vanish. It mutates. Violence erupts. Turf wars escalate.
Vulnerable users are forced to navigate a shifting and deadly underground economy, one increasingly filled with synthetic poisons and unpredictable cutting agents. Dealers adapt faster than we can react, flooding communities with ever more lethal products. And while we chase headlines, people die in alleyways, closes, public toilets. Families bury their loved ones and grieve in silence, again and again. This isn't what we signed up for. Most officers don't join the force to feed a policy that kills the very people we're sworn to protect.
We sign up to serve. To stand between harm and the public. But the system now demands we play a part in something broken, a relentless cycle of raids, seizures, and arrests that achieves nothing except body counts.
IF we truly mean Keeping People Safe, we need to ask: safe from what? From drugs? From crime? From grief? Right now, they're not safe from any of it.
The solution doesn't lie in tougher sentences or bigger hauls. We've tried that. It failed. The answer lies in a public health approach, rooted not in punishment but in compassion, evidence and common sense.
We need to expand safe consumption spaces, such as the long-delayed but now operational pilot in Glasgow. We must flood the streets not with raids but with naloxone. We must back recovery services with real resources, not lip service. And, above all, we must end the criminalisation of addiction. Addiction is an illness, not a moral failing. You can't arrest your way out of a health crisis.
We stand at a crossroads. One road continues this tired, tragic pantomime of punishment and PR. The other leads to reform. To regulation. To treating drug use for what it really is – a complex public health issue requiring bold, grown-up decisions.
READ MORE: The illegal drugs trade affects the lives of everyone
We have the power to choose. We can continue with the same course – more slogans, more bodies, more shame. Or we can change direction and begin to save lives.
If Keeping People Safe is more than a motto, if it's a promise, then it's time to prove it.
Simon McLean is a former serious crime and drugs squad officer who infiltrated crime gangs nationwide. He is a spokesperson for LEAP (Scotland) and co-host of the true crime podcast Crime Time Inc with former deputy chief constable Tom Wood. Both are published authors and outspoken advocates for evidence-based drug policy reform