The term wicked problem is scientific jargon for a problem that can’t be solved by traditional means. In ancient Greek mythology, wicked problems came in the form of monsters like the Hydra. Hydra was a nefarious Game of Thrones style dragon but with a bunch more heads. What made the Hydra a wicked problem was the fact that whenever you cut off one of its heads, another would grow back to replace it. This made the man-eating beast very hard to kill. Eventually Hercules triumphed over the serpentine creature by decapitating it and cauterizing the neck with a flaming sword, effectively preventing heads from growing back.
Today, our wicked problems come in the form of drug addiction epidemics, and they can’t be solved so easily. Various branches of the government devote their time and effort to stopping the deadly drug trade in our country, and yet our cities are still being devastated by addiction. If you read The Fix often, you may know that nearly 10% of Baltimore’s population suffers from heroin addiction. That is an undeniably staggering number of addicts. So how does this problem persist? How does the drug trade stay transparent? By keeping up with the times, of course. If you’ve ever seen an episode of The Wire, then you know that it’s the most adaptable drug dealers that prevail. One way they do this is by taking their sales online. I only know because I bought and sold drugs online for years. With nearly every industry in the world functioning on the Internet, it only makes sense that the drug trade would follow suit.
It all started for me in the spring of 2011, when I caught a glimpse of a local news segment reporting on a number of drug dealers being arrested for selling painkillers on Craigslist. DEA agents had set up fake profiles on the website to sting unsuspecting dealers. Like a perfectly irrational drug addict, I thought it was a great idea. At the time the inside of my head was a whirlwind of desperate insanity, so it wasn’t exactly strange for me to think a terrible idea was brilliant.
Notwithstanding the obvious legal implications, I decided to check it out. I searched for a number of “party favors” I was interested in, and was basically blown away at the blunt vernacular people used in their ads. Dealers would write things like “I have a bunch of Xanax for sale,” or “No law enforcement allowed.” The whole thing seemed pretty ridiculous. It reminded me of some little kids who built a fort and posted a “No girls allowed” sign out front. Did they seriously think law enforcement officials looking into their blatantly illicit activity would heed their warning? It was a bit of a joke, but certain aspects of it were very enticing to me. I liked the idea of anonymously making quick drug deals with people in my area. I didn’t have to call around to a bunch of shady people to find out who had what I was looking for, and I didn’t have to argue about the price. I could simply reply to the ad that fit my needs.
Once I found a local dealer who claimed to have what I was looking for, I made contact and we arranged to meet. I was then put through a rigorous screening process to prove that I wasn’t affiliated with law enforcement. Well, not really. I actually just had to say, “I’m not a cop.” With that out of the way, I headed to the local Starbucks to meet an eccentric older man who referred to himself as “Kilo.” At this point, I definitely had nerves about the whole thing, but I didn’t really have a choice. If I didn’t score soon, I was going to get sick. A short time later Kilo and I met, made a quick and painless exchange, and went our separate ways. From that day forward, until I finally got sober, I used Craigslist to initiate drug deals maybe a hundred different times. Craigslist became a very popular forum for drug sales in my area. It was very rare for me to log on and not find what I was looking for.
I acknowledged the sheer reckless nature of what I was doing, but refused to make any sort of change. In sobriety I sometimes ruminate on the countless close calls I had, baffled that I was never arrested. My freedom wasn’t the only thing being threatened though; my safety was also at risk. When you’re meeting a complete stranger to buy drugs, any number of things can go wrong. One night I responded to an ad that seemed a little too good to be true. The advertised price was far below average. Somewhat skeptical, I arranged a meeting. When I met the pharmaceutical salesman in an empty library parking lot, he hastily took my money and procured a large black knife, which he clumsily swung at me. Miraculously unharmed, I fled, surging with panic.
When I did finally get sober, it wasn’t easy always having the Craigslist option in the back of my mind. The ease with which I could find a local dealer made it very hard to walk away from. Like many addicts faced with death or incarceration, however, I finally did the footwork necessary to stay sober.
Today, some people think the Craigslist problem is actually getting worse. In 2013, the FBI managed to shut down the infamous Silk Road, a deep web Tor site people used to buy and sell drugs, weapons, counterfeit money, and other fine products not available on Amazon. Freelance journalist Jason Murphy asserts that with the Silk Road shut down, more and more people are taking their illicit substance sales to Craigslist. It’s a very plausible argument, and furthermore, it leaves me wondering where they will go when law enforcement inevitably cracks down on Craigslist. How will the dragon’s next head grow back?
With 78 Americans dying every day from drug overdoses, some people think it’s time to take a different approach. Supervised injection clinics, like the one being proposed in Ithaca, New York, would allow addicts a safe place to use drugs under medical supervision and without the risk of overdose. The technique, which has proven to be successful in several European countries, has started a heated debate. Critics find the idea to be reckless and absurd, while a number of experts in the field believe it’s a vital step in the right direction.
Regardless of our efforts, two things are certain: drugs are here to stay, and so is the Internet. Try as we might to stop the gangs, the cartels, and the online pharmaceutical entrepreneurs; America’s drug dealers have proven themselves to be resilient if nothing else. With Craigslist firmly seated on the shoulders of our modern Hydra, we continue to search for our flaming sword.
Jeff Walker is a student and writer living in Riverside, California. He previously wrote about the value of fear and his year in rehab.