A Stitch in Haste

I've blogged previously about what I call the War on Sniffles — heavily restricting or even outright banning over-the-counter decongestants that can be used, in bulk, to manufacture methamphetamine.

Well, let's see — with all the required "post hoc ergo propter hoc" boilerplate — how well such programs have worked:

In the seven months since Iowa passed a law restricting the sale of cold medicines used to make methamphetamine, seizures of homemade methamphetamine laboratories have dropped to just 20 a month from 120.
...
But [officials are] now worried about a new problem: the drop in home-cooked methamphetamine has been met by a new flood of crystal methamphetamine coming largely from Mexico.
...
The University of Iowa Burn Center, which in 2004 spent $2.8 million treating people whose skin had been scorched off by the toxic chemicals used to make methamphetamine at home, says it now sees hardly any cases of that sort. Drug treatment centers, on the other hand, say they are treating just as many or more methamphetamine addicts.

And although child welfare officials say they are removing fewer children from homes where parents are cooking the drug, the number of children being removed from homes where parents are using it has more than made up the difference.

Any sophomore economics student knows the concept of "substitution effects." Raise taxes on beer, and some people will switch to distilled spirits. Ban smoking, and some people will use chewing tobacco. Make it impossible to manufacture homemade meth, and some people will switch to ice.

Which is not to say that the net effect will always be bad. But it does mean that the extent such a program is "good" will always be overstated.

And of course, all the people who go without their decongestants, either because they refuse to submit to having their purchases tracked or simply because they don't want to go through the hassle of dealing with a pharmacist, incur the cost of this policy too. But all those sniffles will never make their way into a government cost-benefit analyis of a decongestant restriction.

When supply is curtailed, demand doesn't simply pack up and go home. New supply — sometimes worse supply — simply fills the void.

Stated differently, be careful what you try to ban — you might succeed.

More thoughts at Hit & Run.