Were you shocked to see the British tabloid photograph of Olympic swim champ Michael Phelps firing up a bong at a recent college party? Many people were no doubt startled, and chagrined, to see the all-American athlete inadvertently trashing his image.Many others may have been less surprised that Phelps did the drug than that he was foolish enough to do so in public, putting his multimillion-dollar product endorsement deals at risk.
Phelps has apologized, laying blame at the fact that he’s only 23 years old and not exactly a paragon of wisdom. Please. Phelps is a grown-up and has to own his poor choices. But government statistics do indicate that the age group most likely to use marijuana is 18 to 25 years old; after that, pot use drops off sharply.
Will young Americans who buy Wheaties because they see Mr. Eight Gold Medals on the box now be more inclined to inhale pot because they see him cupping a bong? The decline in stigma attached to marijuana use could make trying it easier, but it’s hard to establish a direct connection.
While it can’t please parents that their kids’ favorite Olympic champion is revealed as a recreational drug user, the good news is that marijuana is less popular today than it was in the late 1970s. The bad news is the potency is much higher. Research over the last decade has established a link between marijuana use and forgetfulness, having to do with the effect of cannabinoids, the pleasure-giving substance in marijuana, on brain chemistry. And while marijuana is not addictive in the same way cocaine and alcohol are, scientists have found evidence that for 10 to 14 percent of the population, developing a pot dependence is all too easy.
It’s also worth thinking of another young Phelps, Rodney Phelps, a Detroit man profiled by Luke Bergmann in his acclaimed recent book “Getting Ghost.” Rodney Phelps was a young, black, petty dealer whose life was filled with all the chaos and violence that comes with living in a city and culture permeated by the drug trade. As Bergmann tells it, Phelps tried to get out of the life and start anew but was gunned down, probably by old drug-dealing rivals.
The two Phelpses lived worlds apart, but the famous one’s indiscreet pleasures depend on the daily misery of the obscure one who died young and in pain. It bears repeating that the names and faces of innocent Mexicans killed by drug cartels, for whom marijuana is their biggest moneymaker will never make it onto a Wheaties box to be seen by the privileged Americans who, like Michael Phelps, take a recreational bong hit now and again.
Yet their fates are not so easily separated. That’s something pot smokers like Michael Phelps have to own, too.