Subj: This man is paid UKP106,000 a year to stop Britain's youth taking drugs. Is

he worth it? 



Source: The Independent (UK)



Pubdate: 26 May 1999



Author: Kathy Marks 







This man is paid UKP106,000 a year to stop Britain's youth taking drugs. Is

he worth it? 

By Kathy Marks 



Keith Hellawell, the Government's "drugs tsar",

told listeners to a recent radio interview that

doctors are not allowed to prescribe

diamorphine, more commonly known as heroin,

to addicts. 



Quite what the listeners made of this remark is not

clear. But all over Whitehall - at the Home Office,

the Department of Health and the Cabinet Office,

where Mr Hellawell is based - civil servants

cringed with embarrassment. The gaffe - doctors

can indeed prescribe diamorphine, provided they

have a special licence - illustrates a recurring

criticism of the UK anti-drugs co-ordinator, to

give him his proper title: that he has failed to grasp

the detail of his job. 



"He is aloof, uninspiring and out of touch," said a

senior academic in the drugs field yesterday.

"Worst of all, he is out of his depth. He is simply

not bright enough. He can't hold all the balls up in

the air." 



Harsh words, but they were not untypical of the

views expressed by drugs experts and voluntary

workers yesterday, 16 months after Mr Hellawell

was appointed by the Government to spearhead a

new anti-drugs crusade. 



Mr Hellawell, a former chief constable of West

Yorkshire, was selected for the UKP106,000-a-year

post because of his long-standing interest in drugs

issues and his reputation for being prepared to

"think the unthinkable". 



Ironically, the initial concerns expressed about

him - that, because of his background, he would

concentrate exclusively on law enforcement

aspects of the job - have proved unfounded. In

fact, he has shifted the emphasis to education and

rehabilitation, making clear that he believes the

problem cannot be solved by simply arresting and

locking up addicts. 



His 10-year strategy, unveiled in April last year,

included a new penalty obliging criminals to

undergo treatment for drug addiction. It also

promised improved drugs education in schools

and the establishment of a national Drugs

Prevention Advisory Service to support local

drug action teams in the community. 

Even Mr Hellawell's detractors say the strategy

looks good on paper, encompassing every

conceivable angle. There is also grudging

admiration for his success in squeezing UKP217m out

of the Treasury to implement it. 



But there remains widespread scepticism about

whether Mr Hellawell, a former miner who now

drives a Porsche, has the authority, courage and

vision to pick his way through the political

minefield and make real progress in the fight

against drugs. 



Many observers draw a contrast with his deputy,

Mike Trace, who is seen as brighter, more

accessible and more in touch with youth issues.

Mr Trace, who rides a motorbike, is a former

social worker who worked in the voluntary drugs

field. 



"Mike Trace holds the whole thing together. He

has a far better grasp of the detail and he works

his socks off," said one Hellawell critic. "He is

immensely relaxed and well- respected." 



Out in the field, experts picked their words more

carefully. Mr Hellawell, after all, is the public face



of government drugs policy and voluntary

agencies are largely dependent on government

funding. "It would be suicide to criticise him," said

one. 



Roger Howard, chief executive of the Standing

Conference on Drug Abuse, was among the few

prepared to speak on the record yesterday. He

praised Mr Hellawell for his willingness to heed

the views of people working at the sharp end. 



Mike Goodman, director of Release, the drugs

charity, described Mr Hellawell, diplomatically, as

a safe pair of hands. "Certainly we could have

done worse," he said. 



"He's not a great communicator, but he is

amiable, and parts of his strategy are very good. I

wish that he would be more outspoken

sometimes, that he would tackle the difficult issues

such as decriminalisation, which I believe that he

supports." 



This is a persistent criticism made of Mr

Hellawell: that he has abandoned his liberal,

occasionally maverick, views and is toeing the

Government's hard line on drugs. 



As a police officer, he was prepared to advocate

reform of the "absurd" laws on prostitution and

the legalisation of brothels. He also said, in an

interview on the BBC's Panorama programme,

that he foresaw the day when cannabis would be

legal. After being appointed to his post, he

disowned that comment. 



There is no doubt that Mr Hellawell is in a difficult

position. He is "drugs tsar", modelled on an

American concept, but unlike his American

counterparts he has no budget, no independence

and no real power. He is, in reality, just a special

adviser, yet, unlike other government special

advisers, he has a high profile. 



There is no doubt, too, that he has suffered from

snobbishness and elitism at the hands of some

senior civil servants, who resented an outsider -

and, worst of all, a police officer - being

parachuted in above their heads. "What's a

copper doing in Whitehall?" people would

whisper after he arrived. 



One government adviser on drugs, who knows

him well, said yesterday: "There were people who

fell over backwards at drinks parties when he

was appointed. In reality, he has not done badly.

But he does not have the sagacity to understand

the larger issues. I doubt that the benefits of his

job are worth the cost." 



Another observer described his appointment as a

poisoned chalice. 



"New Labour has unloaded the political

embarrassment of its failing drugs policy on to the

drugs tsar," he said. "As a figurehead, Keith

Hellawell serves that purpose."