So what happened that night? Well, according to my flat-mate, it was a pretty
normal evening with just a slightly unexpected ending. Everyone (about 40
students from Manchester University) had gone out to a downtown project that
runs on Fridays and Saturday, to see whichever big-name DJ was playing.
The night started at about 9pm with drinks in the student bar: vodka Red Bull
for some, beer for others. The drinks are subsidised – £2 for a double – so
most downed three or more. At about 11pm people left to catch the bus into
town, first stopping at an off-licence to grab a bottle of vodka for the
journey. At the venue, each of them easily smuggled in their personal stash
of drugs and the “fun” began.
First, an Ecstasy pill (£2 a pop) washed down with a vodka and tonic. It takes
20 minutes for the effect to kick in, so plenty of time for another drink.
Half an hour later and most were on the dancefloor, bottles of water in
their hands. Time for a top-up: perhaps another pill, or a dab of MDMA.
There was cocaine around, too, but it’s pricier, so only the lucky ones were
offered a line. Meanwhile, the hardcore got busy. Out came the ketamine, and
there was acid (LSD), too, both very popular with the blokes – bad dancers
anyway but now unable to move.
It was time for a break: out to the smoking area for a spliff, or maybe a
popper (amyl nitrate). The hit is short but instant. It makes you dizzy and
your head pound. Then it was back to the dancefloor: another pill, another
dab, before heading home a couple of hours later. Everyone agreed that it
had been “a good night” but “nothing special”.
A group of about 15 went back to the house of a third-year student to continue
the party with laughing gas – using an empty whipped-cream canister to fill
a balloon, then inhaling it to produce a fleeting trip – laughter for some,
near-black-outs for a few. More drinks and some spliffs to wind down: it was
weed that night but sometimes it’s skunk, depending on what the dealer has.
And ketamine, too – at least a snort for the hardcore. At which point a
student whipped out some Rohypnol (the so-called date-rape drug). Five
people proceeded to spike their own drinks. What does it feel like? Just
what you would imagine: it renders you incapable of much thought or movement.
Thirty minutes later, two girls went to the toilet but someone was in there.
They waited for five minutes, then knocked. No response. They returned to
the main room and it was noticed that one girl was missing. Back they went,
with two guys. Still no response. So it was “stand back, everyone” as one
guy broke down the door.
Sarah (not her real name), the missing girl, had passed out and was lying in a
heap with a ready-prepared line of cocaine next to her. After a few moments
of panic and confusion, someone called an ambulance. The girl was having
fits and blurting out nonsense. The ambulance took her to hospital, where
she was put in an induced coma.
The next morning, the story was on everybody’s lips. Friends were shocked –
until word got out that Sarah was clinically allergic to one of the drugs,
hence her collapse. Sweet relief! So it wasn’t as if everyone had been
really stupid and put themselves in extreme danger.
But wait. The girl woke up. She started to recover. She started to talk. The
truth began to emerge. A few days later, the story changed. In fact it was
the cocktail of class-A and other illegal drugs she had taken that had
endangered her life. By this stage, however, interest among other students
had subsided. Most never got to hear the true story. They didn’t really want
to know that they, too, were playing with fire.
As a contemporary and friend of many of those involved, a student at the same
university and a normal undergraduate who struggles to get organised and do
enough work and spends too much time partying and loafing around, I could
easily have followed the same route and let the story blow over. After all,
it wasn’t that unusual.
But somehow I couldn’t get the question out of my head: what drives an
attractive, well-educated, popular girl to end up lying in a self-induced
drug coma in hospital? Whatever it is, I’m sure she is not unusual. She did
no more than thousands of university students up and down the country do
every night. The fact is, a parallel universe exists among students where
this type of behaviour has become “normal”. That is why her friends loved
the “allergy” explanation – it didn’t burst their little bubble.
I wish it had. We all know that drugs are bad for you, and illegal. But those
facts alone won’t change the amount of drugs that students take. To them,
the phrases “It’s bad for you” and “It’s illegal” have probably not meant
much for decades.
But I can’t help feeling that something needs to be done. Young people come to
university to meet friends and learn new things. Once they arrive, though, a
great many put their bodies and minds at risk with excessive drug-taking.
Many fall behind in their studies, or suffer from depression, or both. I have
seen people transformed from sociable characters into sluggish drug-fiends
with nothing to say about anything. Yet the collective student voice labels
them merely “jokers” who can be counted on to be “hilarious” on a night out.
What drives students to get themselves in this state? The clichéd explanation
is that it is pressure. What a fantasy! I would argue the opposite. Students
are in a safe, comfortable position. Most have an enormous amount of free
time, and a disposable income that they don’t have to earn – so they feel
little responsibility for anything or anyone, including themselves.
One answer would be to give us more work (am I really saying this?). The
average student attends the university only for between four and eight hours
a week. This leaves 104 hours (not including eight hours’ sleep a night) of
free time. Of course, a lot of this time should be spent on our studies. In
reality, though, many students do the bare minimum – perhaps a couple of
days a week, sometimes none.
This leaves a lot of time, the prevailing feature of which is boredom. A
typical day would be waking at midday, eating, watching TV, eating, surfing
the web, watching TV, thinking about work and perhaps getting a bit
stressed, then going out. The most stimulation that a student gets will come
from drugs.
Of course people work more when they face impending deadlines and exams. But
even then, a new coping system has developed. It’s called Modafinil, a
commonly prescribed narcolepsy drug.
You may wonder how students can afford to go out so often and consume so many
costly chemicals. Let me enlighten you. A non-income-assessed loan is £3,385
a year minimum. It is fairly safe to assume that many students also have
their rent and tuition fees paid, meaning that this money is theirs to spend
as they like. Even if they do struggle financially, drugs will be high on
their list of necessities – well ahead of books or healthy food.
Which brings me to peer pressure. Social groups at university are large, and
the only way to avoid being forgotten by your peers is to “be around”. This
involves a lot of nights out that often include drugs. The drugs are
increasingly vital because it is hard to get much beyond small talk if you
are in a group of 30 or so. Most of my friends admit that they couldn’t face
a “big night” without being on drugs.
The deeper problem, though, is that our student generation has nothing to care
about. The shrinking of the world into a “global village” has,
paradoxically, resulted in isolation and individualism. Once students were a
“community”. Today there are no causes that unite us. We have access to any
type of music or art we desire. We have no need for, and no interest in,
holding hands in the streets. We have no structure and no responsibilities,
just a lot of time and some money.
It is impossible to force people to care about things. That is why I believe
that the only solution is to enforce responsibility and discipline on
students, with more serious consequences if they fail to obey the rules. I
hasten to add that, were this already the case, I would have been expelled
from university. But if I had known it was the case, maybe I’d have acted
more responsibly.
A week later, and I’m happy to say that our friend had recovered – just. Had
the ambulance been called five minutes later, the doctors said, she would
have been lucky to have escaped without brain damage.
I was having dinner in a student house. One of the occupants worked part-time
“in the supply business”, selling a few drugs to his friends. Already that
evening there had been several callers. There was another knock on the door
and two girls walked in. Making light conversation, I asked if they were
going out that Monday night.
“Oh no. We’re knackered,” they replied. “We’re just picking up because Sarah’s
coming home tonight. So we thought we’d all celebrate”.
A University of Manchester spokesman said: “Any student with problems or
concerns about their health, including worries about alcohol or drugs, can
make an appointment with the student occupational health service, where they
will receive confidential advice and support. The university also provides a
confidential counselling service that offers help with any personal issues
affecting work, self-esteem, relationships, mental health or general
wellbeing.”
