Book Review: "Chasing the Scream" by Johann Hari

I think I was put off from reading Johann Hari because of the plagiarism thing that apparently happened (though I don't trust the news because everyone's talking rubbish anyway) but I think that because of the fact his book was used for the basis of a movie I enjoyed in the past, I wanted to read this for ages. I've had it for a long time and only recently given it a chance, though I regret not reading it earlier. I did really enjoy it and it took a great hold on me as it went through the life and death of my favourite female singer ever: Billie Holiday.

Hari begins by examining the origins of the global war on drugs, tracing its roots back to the early 20th century. He introduces Harry Anslinger, the first commissioner of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics in the United States, as a central figure in the story. Anslinger’s campaign against substances like heroin, cocaine, and marijuana was driven by racial prejudice, moral panic, and political opportunism. Hari explains how Anslinger’s efforts framed addiction as a criminal issue rather than a public health challenge, laying the foundation for decades of punitive policies worldwide. I've learnt about Anslinger in the past but not in this much detail. It was quite compelling to read this as a piece of true crime narration as opposed to a textbook structure (which is where I read the story in the past).

The book investigates the devastating consequences of drug criminalisation, focusing on its impact on individuals and communities. Hari provides evidence of how punitive laws have disproportionately targeted marginalised groups, exacerbating social inequalities. He explores how the criminalisation of drug use has led to mass incarceration, particularly in countries like the United States, and fuelled violent black markets controlled by organised crime. Hari argues that this approach has failed to reduce drug use or address the root causes of addiction. Well, I'm glad we have established the fact that incarceration does not, in fact, help anything when it comes to addiction and possibly, due to stress, makes things a lot worse than they need to be.

Throughout the book, Hari weaves in deeply personal stories of individuals affected by addiction and the drug war. He profiles addicts, law enforcement officials, and families caught in the crossfire, humanising the statistics and policies. These stories, such as those of Billie Holiday (persecuted by Anslinger for her drug use) and Chino Hardin (a former drug dealer turned activist), reveal the complex realities of lives shaped by the war on drugs and highlight the resilience of those striving for change. This was perhaps my personal favourite part of the book due to the intensity of the story of Billie Holiday. It was so sad revisiting the way she grew up and became a singer because I had previously read that story in a novel called Lady Sings the Blues which was by Holiday herself.

The book provides a detailed analysis of the economics of the global drug trade, explaining how prohibition fuels violence and corruption. Hari visits regions such as Ciudad Juárez in Mexico, where drug cartels thrive in the absence of legal markets. He shows how the enormous profits generated by the black market incentivise organised crime and undermine governments, perpetuating cycles of violence and instability. Hari argues that legalisation and regulation could weaken cartels by removing their primary source of income.

I like the fact that Hari tries to get his information first hand rather than simply relying on stories and evidence given by other people. He starts to build this image of people being addicted to drugs and it not entirely being their own fault, but through a mixture of economic factors and the only emotional way out that is accessible being drugs - it seems more inevitable than anything else. If you want to know more about this then I suggest that you check out a book called The Social Distance Between Us by Darren McGarvey which covers this in one or two of the chapters - especially regarding the poor.

Hari highlights the human cost of prohibition by profiling individuals who have suffered under punitive drug laws. He tells the story of Maria, a mother in Juárez who lost her son to cartel violence, and Bud Osborn, a Canadian activist who fought for safe injection sites in Vancouver. These accounts illustrate the real-world consequences of policies that prioritise punishment over compassion, revealing the systemic failure to protect vulnerable populations. Profiling has never worked and I was interested to learn how this was done by design by people like Anslinger in order to criminalise not the dealers, but the takers.

All in all, Hari concludes with a powerful call to end the war on drugs, framing it as a moral and practical imperative. He urges readers to challenge the stigma surrounding addiction and advocate for policies that prioritise humanity and evidence over ideology. Hari’s final message is one of hope, suggesting that change is possible if society embraces empathy and rejects the punitive approach that has failed so many for so long.