Dean Smith (WA, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

I rise today to speak on an issue that is not a happy one but, nonetheless, has to be faced up to by the nation, by this parliament, by state parliaments and by communities at every level. When we talk about the abuse of methamphetamine, crystal meth or ice, in the community, it is a problem that many Australians probably associate with inner-urban areas of the nation. However, there is a significant body of evidence now that clearly shows those perceptions need to change. While the scourge of ice is undoubtedly a problem in our cities, the crisis has moved far beyond metropolitan boundaries.

The use and abuse of crystal meth is now widespread in many regional centres and communities across Australia. In many respects, the impact of meth is felt even more keenly in regional communities than in our cities because these regional areas, in many cases, do not have comparable law enforcement resources or treatment options for drug addiction that may be available to those in more populated areas. Worse still, those who profit from the sale and supply of these drugs are openly exploiting this fact and flooding some regional communities—including Indigenous communities—with crystal meth. This cynical exploitation of regional communities is perhaps one reason why the use of ice is growing so rapidly.

Precise estimates vary from study to study, but several indicate increases in the use of ice by Australians of around 10 per cent nationwide over the last three years. Research suggests that around 350,000 Australians smoked, snorted or injected crystal meth over the past 12 months. That would be an alarming statistic for any drug, but, when we are talking about a drug so insidious, one that wrecks relationships, careers, families and entire lives, it is clear that we are dealing with an epidemic. As I noted a moment ago, no Australian is beyond the reach of this drug. It is time for us to stop thinking of ice as a drug abused only by those down-and-out types squatting in derelict buildings in city centres. This is happening in the cities, in the suburbs and, increasingly, in rural communities.

Just last month, the extent of what is happening was highlighted in a confronting edition of the television programme Four Corners, which examined what is happening in several small regional communities in Victoria and Tasmania. But there is no reason to think that what was shown is restricted to those two jurisdictions. This program could just as easily have been filmed in some of Western Australia's regional communities. Indeed, the prevalence of ice in Indigenous communities is, to my mind, one of the epidemic's most alarming aspects. Professor Marcia Langton, a respected Indigenous leader who has done extensive work in some of Western Australia's Indigenous communities along with Andrew Forrest, had this to say in The Australian:

We heard many reports of ice or methamphetamines in remote communities … there is a youth epidemic of amphetamine use and there are organised drug-dealing syndicates that have a network of distributors in Aboriginal communities who market drugs.

This will destroy a generation of Aboriginal youth. This is affecting the ability of young people to get into training.

The extent of the situation was driven home for me by another very powerful piece in The Australian, which focussed on Port Headland, in the Pilbara region in my own state of Western Australia. It struck a particular chord with me because Port Headland was where I grew up and where my father served as the local policeman. Of course, Port Headland was a very different place then, in many respects. Gone now is the sleepy, innocent atmosphere as the strength of WA's mining and resources sector has taken over in recent years and transformed the town and its neighbouring communities. There is much to celebrate in that fact, but, at the same time, we cannot ignore the fact that there have been some significant and serious downsides.

On 8 October, The Australian's Paige Taylor related the story of Alfred Barker, an Indigenous elder in Port Headland. Many years ago, in finding a constructive way to deal with a personal tragedy, Mr Barker helped to renovate an abandoned property in Edgar Street, Port Headland and turned it into a 'sobering up shelter'—a place where Indigenous people could go to get themselves back on track. However, Mr. Barker despairs at the current situation in relation to the prevalence of methamphetamine in the local community and feels his shelter is powerless to assist. These are his own words:

You can't build a shelter from those drugs, no shelter from that stuff … They go downhill quick on that.

The tale he tells is a familiar one. Although well-paid miners may have been the original target market for meth pushers in the Pilbara, suppliers have broadened their sights and now target a far wider population that includes some of the region's poorest people, including Indigenous people.

A similar picture was painted by a recent report that focussed on methamphetamine use in the Northern Territory, which again highlighted 'the emergence of injecting drug use within the Aboriginal community'. It is clear that methamphetamine is not a drug that respects geographic boundaries, race or socioeconomic status. And its impacts are devastating. One of the recovering addicts featured in the recent Four Corners episode, identified as 'Ethan', said that the year he spent addicted to crystal meth turned him into a monster. He said:

I just wanted to see blood. That's all I wanted. Because you know I wanted to kill someone almost—like I was ready to.

The account is confirmed by Ethan's mother, who described her son this way:

And he just… he just… his mouth opened like a furnace and he looked like he could've lifted the house up, he could've just… his rage was so immense.

This is perhaps the most terrifying aspect of the ice epidemic, because this is not a drug that people necessarily take and then stay at home until the effects wear off. Ice users are walking the streets, driving cars, interacting with people going about their day-to-day lives. The effects of the drug make their behaviour difficult to predict, and they can suddenly turn irrational and violent.

Then there are the flow-on impacts, which are especially pronounced in regional communities. An increase in methamphetamine abuse invariably leads to increasing instances of robbery and theft as users seek ways to fund their addiction. Then there are the increasing instances of violence and assault, as people high on crystal meth lose all sense of rationality and lash out. One police superintendent from regional Victoria told Four Corners that ice is 'probably our biggest driver of crime'.

Perhaps the most terrifying aspect of the entire ice explosion in Australia is the age of its victims. This was brought home to me in sharp relief just yesterday in this Senate. As it happens, during a Senate select committee hearing I asked a witness who is involved in the provision of drug rehabilitation services if he could identify any particular shift in demographics of the sorts of people accessing treatment services. His answer was a powerful illustration of what is happening. He said:

Ten weeks ago we organised a football game, AA versus NA—Alcoholics Anonymous versus Narcotics Anonymous. The NA boys won, by the way. The thing I saw was that the NA demographic has altered massively. They are now 18-, 19-, 20-, 21- and 22-year-olds, young people getting clean from ice and methamphetamine. It is awfully difficult for AA to compete against that backdrop, because the AA midfield has an average age of 50!

A pleasant twist on a tragic story. Now that shows you what exactly is happening and it is backed up by other media reports we have seen, including the Four Corners item I have referred to today. This ice scourge is affecting very, very young people; children aged 10 and 11 are presenting at hospitals with symptoms of methamphetamine abuse. And the problem is not going away. Our head in the sand approach must be changed for a call to action.

Just yesterday, in The West Australian, it was confirmed that WA has the highest rate of methamphetamine use in the nation. Most worryingly, those taking methamphetamine in its 'purest' form, as crystal or ice, was at 78.2 per cent—well above the national figure of 50.4 per cent. The methamphetamine crisis is a national challenge, and all available evidence points to a crisis that is deepening. No longer can we afford to view methamphetamine abuse as a problem afflicting a small group of inner city people. As I have attempted to highlight today, the crisis is happening now and many regional communities are in its grasp. It is a challenge that governments at every level, educators, institutions and families must work together to address before we lose yet more of our young people to the vile clutches of this insidious drug. Today I will write to the chair of the Senate Community Affairs References Committee to propose a national inquiry into the use and consequences of methamphetamine abuse in regional Australia.