Hi. I’m Scott, and I’m an alcoholic.
I have lived the truth behind every flawed assumption, policy misfire and well-intentioned myth about addiction. I have walked through the depths of hell with suffering as my only companion. I know what lives there — and I know the way out.
Some draw a line between alcoholism and drug addiction, as if that changes the conversation. The only real difference is that alcoholics buy their drug at a liquor store instead of on a street corner. The behaviors, thought processes, emotional dysfunction and self-destruction are all the same. Alcohol just happens to be legal.
When Oregon decriminalized drugs in 2020, I sounded the alarm. As a Portland resident, I understood the public’s desire to help, but I also knew what was coming. I warned it was the most well-intentioned act of cruelty I could imagine. Compassion without clarity can have dire consequences.
When decriminalization was in effect, Oregon experienced a staggering increase in opioid overdose deaths — from 824 in 2020 to 1,833 in 2023. This contributed to a statewide increase between December 2023 and December 2024 — the second-highest increase in the nation during that period.
Usually, I love being right. This time, not so much.
Unfortunately, New York City mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani is proposing the same idea. Before New York follows Portland’s lead, I urge everyone responsible to consider the consequences and listen to someone who truly understands the mind of an addict.
What so many non-addicts overlook is this equation: Addicts quit when the pain of continuing finally exceeds the fear of quitting.
It sounds simple, but it reflects a distorted logic that only addicts understand. Most want to quit, but they’re terrified. For an active addict, suffering is all they know, and the drug both eases and deepens that pain. The idea of living without it is unbearable. That’s the fear.
But as we keep using, consequences begin stacking up. We begin to lose jobs, relationships, respect, safety and purpose. The drug stops working, but the suffering keeps going. Eventually, the misery becomes too heavy to ignore. And when the pain outweighs the fear — only then — does an addict become willing to stop. In contrast, if consequences are removed, the pain factor diminishes and will never exceed the fear factor, and recovery will be delayed.
Many non-addicts believe building more treatment centers will fix the problem — similar to dropping a broken-down car off at the garage. After a few days, it’s fixed and ready to go. But this analogy falls short. It misses, for example, that without ongoing maintenance, the engine will break down again. Rehab can perhaps fix the engine, but recovery is the lifelong maintenance.
Recovery isn’t what addicts expect, either. Many believe it will be enduring suffering without their drug. But recovery teaches how to stop suffering altogether. As Alcoholics Anonymous likes to tell addicts, “Alcohol isn’t your problem. Alcohol is your lousy solution. Life is your problem.” Recovery addresses the pain beneath addiction and teaches how to navigate life.
Additionally, the idea of shielding addicts from hitting rock bottom is empathetic but misguided. Rock bottom is a decision — not a circumstance. It looks different for everyone, and many never reach it. You hit rock bottom when you decide you’ve taken all you’re willing to; pain finally outweighs fear.
Non-addicts struggle with this. When they see homeless addicts, they believe those addicts have hit rock bottom. But that’s the non-addict’s rock bottom — not theirs. Many street addicts believe they’re doing fine. Addiction warps perception. What looks like collapse to outsiders can feel like acceptable survival to addicts.
I use Plato’s Allegory of the Cave to explain addiction. Prisoners chained in a dark cave see only shadows and mistake them for reality. When pulled into sunlight — a light never before known — they wince in pain and are blinded. Though the cave is cold and wet, they will do anything to return. Addiction’s shadows — the version of reality we have created in our minds — are all addicts know. Pulling them into the sunlight is terrifying, and their instinct is to retreat to the shadowy safety of active use.
Recovery is learning to live in the sunlight. It means refusing to retreat to the shadows where suffering feels safer and self-destruction is comfortable. Until we face that light, we remain trapped.
I don’t condemn empathy; compassion is vital in addressing addiction. But true compassion involves accountability and recognizing what helps an active addict.
Some say, “But they may die.” The problem is that they already are dying. Misapplied compassion that removes pain without addressing fear delays healing and makes death more likely, not less. Oregon voters learned this lesson the hard way. Though well-intentioned, decriminalization became statewide codependency.
I would hate for New York City to repeat Portland’s mistake when the lessons are so evident. Learn from those who have lived it: You cannot love addicts into recovery, but you can love them into a grave.
Scott C. Mallett is a writer and a former college professor. His Substack is The Gospel According to Scott.
