Eric Schlosser's Reefer Madness takes a deep plunge into the three largest divisions of America's underground economy: marijuana, illegal labor employment, and the vast pornography industry.
Reefer Madness' overarching theme exhaustingly states and restates the whimsical nature of the U.S. government, its agencies, and the judicial system. In some ways Schlosser seems to want to mold me into a disgruntled citizen, skeptical of any legitimate legal enforcements of marijuana policy or of the current cultural mean for obscenity.
Schlosser's examination of America's black market points out the ironies in its marijuana and illegal drugs policy. Obviously, if there weren't a plethora of strict laws enforcing Schedule I drugs (the "worst" drugs), government funds could pour into helping those in rehab or developing primary prevention programs. Such is the case in Spain and Portugal: They have legalized drug possession, enabling them to convict drug dealers and boost funding for rehab programs.
Schlosser hypothesizes that by legalizing marijuana possession the U.S. could divert money into prosecuting people who commit crimes that warrant punishment. Citing court cases and fascinating anecdotes dating back to colonial days, Schlosser paints a disturbing portrait of America's inefficient illegal drug policy.
The novel's second focus takes readers to the hidden world of illegal farm laboring imposed onto the quiet lifestyle of Watsonville, Calif. Within sight of affluent suburban neighborhoods are slums built for the millions of illegal Mexican immigrants laboring in California's strawberry fields. Schlosser does a bit of muckraking in this section of the book, venturing through the heavily neglected lives of these laborers.
Schlosser omits mentioning the influence of the ominous federal government in this section. This omission is not a mistake - there is hardly a government influence dealing with the exploitation of Mexican laborers. This part of the book often parallels haunting images from pre-Civil War novels like A Narrative of the Life of Fredrick Douglass or Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
California strawberry farmers employ illegal Mexican immigrants because they can afford to pay them less than domestic laborers. Schlosser makes an ardent attempt to demonstrate that cheap labor does not only exist in offshore sweatshops but here within our borders.
Next time you buy a carton of luscious California strawberries, glance at the label. Off to the side, in small print, you will likely see "Watsonville, CA."
The closing section, and the lengthiest, is uniquely organized. Schlosser alternates the fascinating life of the twentieth century smut-king, Reuben Sturman, with random anecdotes throughout American history pertaining to pornography. I found this section informative and by far the most entertaining of the three.
Schlosser force-feeds readers every detail about Reuben Sturman and how he made his millions creating a multi-million dollar international market. The interesting dichotomy of Sturman's mini-biography is how, aside the fact he was bringing millions of dollars into the United States, the feds wanted nothing more but to bash in the knees of Sturman's empire. Much of the pornography section deals with court cases.
Another theme of the pornography section is the confusion of the constant struggle between good and evil. In this case, I was often perplexed about who represented the two sides. Based on common cultural standards Reuben Sturman, king of porn, is supposedly the villain because of what he represents. Conversely, the federal government plays the part of a hero but also a bully, constantly trying to cave in the First Amendment. Eventually I sided with Mr. Sturman because the government's actions upset me - but I always cheer for the underdog.
Moreover, the porn section exposes the inefficiencies of the U.S. government's policy on pornography based on its own conception of cultural standards. Schlosser further proves this legal wastefulness by contrasting U.S. laws to those of other countries.
The tone of the book is informal, witty, and full of dry humor. Some of the irony Schlosser points out, often indirectly, is that the United States uses the most drugs but has the most drug laws, exploits cheap labor but has the most labor laws and unions anywhere and produces and consumes the most porn but has the strictest laws monitoring and publicly censoring it.
If you are not already convinced of these points, or are and seek justification, do yourself a favor and pick up a copy of Reefer Madness.
Chris Kark is a reporter for the Web Devil. Reach him at christopher.kark@asu.edu.
