Sweden’s political culture, and often I find this extends to the rest of the Nordics as well, are strangely contradictory. On one hand, it is a socially liberal paradise, touting progressive policies for the LGBTQ+ community, a sex-positive culture, generous healthcare, secularization and gender equality – or at least compared to other countries. On the other hand, however, they are almost religiously moralistic in other areas, particularly those that deal with addiction such as drugs, alcohol and gambling. The Swedish state still maintains an iron-clad monopoly on the sale of alcohol, and they still try heavily regulating gambling through the state-run monopoly of Svenska Spel, though the advent of the internet has somewhat hampered these efforts. Advocating for the legalisation of marijuana is still synonymous with political suicide, even though most of western Europe is well on the path already, following Canada, much of the US and elsewhere in the western world. The problem isn’t necessarily the policies themselves, though one could certainly critique them, but rather that there is no discussion at all. Certain questions are treated not as political disagreements, but as moral transgressions.
A culture that cannot debate stagnates. How are we meant to address a drug addiction crisis that ravages communities and tears families apart when mere possession can land someone in jail? And even if one avoids prison and completes rehabilitation, how are they supposed to re-enter society with a criminal record hanging over them? At that point, the punishment no longer targets the harm, but the person. This is where Swedish liberalism quietly gives way to something else: moral hygiene. The goal becomes not to reduce harm, but to signal virtue; not to manage vice, but to pretend it can be eradicated. Sin is not confronted, rather it is quarantined. So consider this article the defender of sin and all the gross, yucky things we are too morally superior to even discuss.
Defending Sin Is Not Endorsing Harm
What can make this topic a bit uncomfortable are not just the moral undertones, but also because there are some very valid points about harm. Hard drugs do kill both directly and indirectly in the drug trade. Alcoholism is a societal detriment and children raised in an alcoholic environment are more likely to be mentally ill. Gambling leaves families destitute through no fault of their own. Saying that I support sin can almost feel like I also support the harm it does, but that is a logical fallacy. Rather, my argument is that other countries have proven that prohibition is not always the right answer, and open debate is necessary to move policy to where the population really are, whereas taboo kills any discussion before points are even made. The argument is not necessarily that all drugs should be legal, but surely there must be a middle ground. Marijuana is a less addictive alternative to sleeping pills, and there are indications that LSD can help with depression and PTSD, but the taboo is so strong that it is difficult to study scientifically in Sweden.
In fact, the strong focus on the harm takes away from the fact that it can also do a lot of good. I have a close friend going through intense chemotherapy. For twelve days in a row, they writhe in pain at night, but they’re allergic to painkillers. They can’t sleep. They can’t eat. They worry about their illness every day. The only relief they’ve finally, finally experienced is a bit of weed, which has helped them sleep and dulled the pain. How in the world could that be harmful? Sinful? Immoral? Free and open debate about what is and is not sin, and how to properly regulate it, is needed for these issues to be fully understood. Again, there is no need for full legalisation if the Swedish people don’t want it, but the debate itself is needed to at least allow medical marijuana (which is technically legal, but has only been prescribed to six people ever in Swedish medical history).
There are even more reasons to consider why “sin” is not absolute, but relative. Continuing with the cannabis example, law enforcement reports have indicated that a majority of Swedish criminal gangs’ revenues come from the sale of cannabis. Legalisation would cut deeply into the coffers of the gangs, and eliminate many of the territorial disputes that have led to violence on the streets of Swedish towns and cities. Research from Canada proved that the legalisation of cannabis there reduced gang revenues by more than half, thereby significantly reducing both violence and arrests. In addition, tax revenue from the legal sale of cannabis represented over 1% of all taxes collected in Canada last year, making the industry a net contributor to the economy, rather than a dangerous, unregulated black market.
As European countries from Germany to Spain have implemented their own models of cannabis legalisation, Sweden has continued to bury its head in the sand when it comes to this particular vice. An argument often heard from Swedish opponents to the discussion is that it’s a “gateway drug,” but that is only true when it is illegal – criminal drug dealers are incentivised to push harder, more addictive and more expensive substances. Removing the interaction with criminal dealers altogether and allowing the government to control distribution of marijuana as they do for alcohol (and as Québec, for example, already does for cannabis), surely removes the “gateway.” Over 7% of Swedes under 30 use cannabis, and a regulated, taxable market controlled by the government would be a much better alternative than them continuing to buy from gangs incentivised to sell them far worse, more addictive products.
In any case, the major point of this piece is not to critique cannabis policy specifically, but rather to show how it exemplifies an overly moralistic culture with regards to almost all discussion about sin in Swedish politics. The fact is that the debate itself is a political dead-end, and even Simona Mohamsson, leader of the Liberal Party who earlier in her career once did publicly call for cannabis legalisation, no longer feels comfortable discussing the topic now that she is party leader. There is a shameless hypocrisy in all of this; while relatively harmless “soft” drugs, gambling and even alcohol will all remain tightly controlled until a thorough debate can take place, I don’t expect any member of the Riksdag to risk their career by calling for any regulation of snus.
Moving Forward
I like to finish with concrete solutions, but for this problem, it’s particularly hard. I can suggest that people speak about it more, but that really has no effect unless politicians can do it without fearing for their careers. Maybe that day is coming sooner than we think, as young Swedes are increasingly becoming “drug liberal” (though it should be noted that they are still far behind their peers in the rest of Europe, for example over one-quarter of Germans use cannabis). For now, all I can advocate for is the mere possibility of discussion, no matter the outcome, rather than the freezing silence of the current debate. Next time a politician says something controversial, maybe take a second to consider what they say before judging, and our political culture would improve already. Consider whether this topic is controversial because of your deeply held beliefs, merely from gut instinct, or because of evidence-based debate. If you, just as me, can discuss the best – and worst – ways to regulate sin, you may just find yourself on the right side of history. Keep in mind, less than a hundred years ago, homosexuality was just as “sinful” as cannabis is today.