The science and myths of meth

Despite the popular imagery of clandestine laboratories and toxic flats, cheaper imported methamphetamine has driven the recent increase in availability.

There was an understandable degree of optimism when the National Party created the office of chief science adviser and appointed the widely respected Sir Peter Gluckman as the first, and so far only, holder of the esteemed title in 2009. University of Auckland ViceChancellor Stuart McCutcheon praised the move as demonstrating ‘‘government recognition of the importance of science in New Zealand’s future’’.

Here was a bright new age of facts and evidence in the sometimes fact-free world of politics. When in doubt, we could turn to the expert. But at times, Gluckman’s advisory role has seemed less certain and the cynical might have seen it as largely decorative. In 2016, for instance, Key openly contradicted Gluckman’s inconvenient view that a tax on sugary drinks would send a strong public health message.

Over the past nine years, Gluckman’s publications have covered subjects ranging from fresh water and youth suicide to climate change and fluoridation. Name the hot-button issue and his office seems to have been across it. But never has a report been covered as thoroughly or received as warmly by the Government as this week’s report on methamphetamine contamination in residential properties.

The reason seems obvious. The report is openly critical of an expensive, misguided and socially disastrous policy that was developed under the previous government. Housing New Zealand evicted tenants and kept state houses empty based on a myth that the consumption of methamphetamine, rather than production, was enough to make homes unfit for habitation.

Much of the coverage this week has focused on the money wasted. Housing New Zealand has reportedly spent about $100 million on testing and remediation over the past four years. On top of that, private landlords have also been persuaded to follow guidelines that are much more rigorous than they need to be, according to Gluckman.

The social context was a moral panic about the production and consumption of methamphetamine. Despite the popular imagery of clandestine laboratories and toxic flats, cheaper imported methamphetamine has driven the recent increase in availability. Drug users could be scapegoated for a shortage of state houses.

National Party politicians Judith Collins and Paula Bennett have now distanced themselves from Housing New Zealand’s policy, but even a cursory glance at news stories from only two years ago shows that Bennett was strongly endorsing its approach. In 2016, she spoke emotively of ‘‘wee babies’’ in Christchurch state houses contaminated by methamphetamine, which she described as an ‘‘extreme concern’’. Evictions of tenants followed.

These concerns often had little evidential basis to them. And some in 2016 were already starting to doubt the decontamination industry. As the Drug Foundation reported, independent experts such as Dr Leo Schep and Dr Nick Kim questioned the science behind the Christchurch evictions, but were drowned out by more partisan voices.

Given this earlier scepticism, many in media and scientific circles were not surprised by Gluckman’s ‘‘bombshell report’’. As promised, science finally triumphed over hype and hysteria. But depending on what Gluckman’s office turns its attention to next, that may not always be the case.