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Shafer Commission

Ah, the Shafer Commission. A rather quaint footnote in the grand, messy saga of drug policy in the United States. They assembled this body, the National Commission on Marihuana and Drug Abuse, a rather verbose title for a group tasked with staring into the abyss of marijuana use. Spearheaded by Raymond P. Shafer, a former Governor of Pennsylvania, this commission was a creature of the early 1970s, a time when the nation was wrestling with itself, and the specter of cannabis loomed large in the public consciousness.

The Shafer Commission: A Signal of Misunderstanding, Indeed

Their magnum opus, the Shafer Report, published in 1972 under the rather evocative title "Marihuana: a Signal of Misunderstanding," dared to suggest something as radical as the decriminalization of marijuana possession. Can you imagine? A commission appointed by President Richard Nixon himself, the man who would later declare a "war on drugs," coming back with that? It’s almost poetic in its irony. The report landed with a thud, largely ignored by the White House, a testament to the political realities of the era. Yet, it stands as a significant document, a quiet rebellion against the burgeoning tide of prohibition.

It's worth noting the context. As the Controlled Substances Act was being hammered out in committee in 1970, the powers-that-be, specifically Assistant Secretary of Health Roger O. Egeberg, decided it was prudent to slot marijuana into Schedule I – the most restrictive category, mind you – as a placeholder, a temporary measure until this very commission could weigh in. A neat little way to preemptively control the narrative, wouldn't you say?

Then, on March 22, 1972, Shafer, the chairman, stood before Congress and the public, presenting their findings. The report, later immortalized in a Signet Books New American Library paperback, argued for an end to marijuana prohibition, advocating for alternative strategies to curb its use. It was a more nuanced perspective than the prevailing hysteria, suggesting that the public's perception of marijuana users as dangerous deviants was, shall we say, inaccurate. The commission found these users to be more timid, more prone to lethargy, more passive. Not exactly the hardened criminals the moral panic suggested. They concluded, quite reasonably, that cannabis did not pose a pervasive threat to societal order. Their recommendation? Social measures, not criminal ones, to discourage use. They even drew a parallel to alcohol, a substance far more ingrained in the fabric of American life, and one that, despite its own considerable societal costs, was (and is) legally regulated.

Opposition and Ignorance

Naturally, such a progressive stance ruffled feathers. By 1974, a congressional subcommittee, under the rather firm hand of Senator James Eastland, saw fit to oppose the commission's decriminalization proposals. The Nixon administration, predictably, shelved the commission's recommendations. President Nixon himself had publicly stated that even if the commission recommended legalization, he would not endorse it. A rather convenient pre-emptive strike against any inconvenient truths.

Despite the official snub, the Shafer Report's findings have continued to echo, frequently cited by those advocating for the removal of cannabis from the restrictive Schedule I of the Controlled Substances Act. It’s a persistent thorn in the side of prohibitionists, a reminder that even within the halls of power, dissenting voices, however muted, have existed.

The Cast of Characters

The commission itself was a rather eclectic mix, a microcosm of the era's societal strata:

  • Michael R. Sonnenreich: Served as the Executive Director, the one likely drowning in paperwork and trying to keep the ship afloat.
  • Raymond P. Shafer: The aforementioned former Governor of Pennsylvania, lending his gravitas and political pedigree as Chairman.
  • Dana L. Farnsworth, MD: Chairman of the University of Michigan department of pharmacology, bringing a scientific, albeit potentially biased, perspective as Vice Chairman.
  • Henry Brill, MD: A psychiatrist, no doubt privy to the psychological intricacies, or perhaps just the perceived madness, surrounding drug use.
  • Tim Lee Carter: A U.S. Representative from Kentucky (R–KY), representing the legislative arm.
  • Joan Ganz Cooney: A television producer, perhaps offering insights into public perception and media influence.
  • Charles O. Galvin, SJD: Dean of SMU Law School, bringing legal expertise to the table.
  • John A. Howard, PhD: President of Rockford University, presumably representing the academic and educational establishment.
  • Harold E. Hughes: A U.S. Senator from Iowa (D–IA), adding a different political flavor.
  • Jacob K. Javits: A U.S. Senator from New York (R–NY), another voice from Capitol Hill.
  • Paul G. Rogers: A U.S. Representative from Florida (D–FL), rounding out the congressional representation.
  • Maurice H. Seevers, MD, PhD: A medical doctor with a doctorate in philosophy, suggesting a deep dive into the subject.
  • J. Thomas Ungerleider, MD: Another psychiatrist, perhaps reinforcing the psychological angles.
  • Mitchell Ware, JD: An attorney, ensuring the legal ramifications were thoroughly considered.

A diverse group, indeed, tasked with dissecting a contentious issue. Whether their deliberations were truly independent or subtly steered, history has rendered its verdict. The report, a beacon of reason in a fog of fear, was largely extinguished by the political winds of the time. It’s a recurring theme, isn't it? Reason versus reaction. And more often than not, reaction wins the day, leaving reason to gather dust on the shelves, waiting for a more receptive audience.