Even in the most complex and painful circumstances, people can come together

Adults found with up to 2.5 grams of these substances are no longer subject to arrest or fines. Instead, they’re offered information and support to access addiction treatment. Researchers shared early findings from the policy shift—too detailed to unpack here - but what struck me most was the sheer quantity involved. Consider this: the lethal dose of fentanyl is around 2–3 milligrams, roughly the size of five to ten grains of salt. That means 2.5 grams could potentially kill an entire Scottish village. The scale is staggering.

I visited a neighbourhood drug consumption room to understand how frontline services are adapting to the changing drug landscape and the challenges of decriminalisation. I am always deeply impressed - both in Canada and Scotland - by the professionals who dedicate their lives to supporting people in crisis. Yet, the experience was sobering.

The centre’s manager, compassionate and candid, told me staff rarely stay longer than two years. The emotional toll of repeated overdoses and the loss of clients becomes overwhelming. When asked which drugs they encountered most, the answer was chilling: fentanyl, alfentanil, and remifentanil; short-acting opioids that require frequent dosing to stave off “dopesickness”. Then came the mention of nitazenes, a new class of synthetic opioids more potent than fentanyl.

When I brought up heroin, a dark humour surfaced. Staff spoke wistfully of the days when heroin was the primary concern - at least then, they knew how to respond to overdoses. Now, with nitazenes and other synthetics, the rules have changed.

Naloxone, a life-saving antidote for opioid overdoses, must be administered in multiple doses - sometimes five or more - to have any effect. I carry Naloxone, for some of these drugs are here already, but only a single dose. It made me wonder how much of a difference I could make - and whether I need a bigger handbag.

Public drug use was visible, and the people I saw were heartbreakingly young. The challenges were immense. Yet amid the chaos, there were moments of profound compassion and community resilience. One initiative stood out: the “block leader” programme. Every three hours, someone abstains from drug use to support others - responding to overdoses, cleaning the streets, and engaging with neighbours and local businesses.

The results were remarkable. The block surrounding the centre was spotless. Thousands of bags of rubbish had been collected. There were over 10,000 interactions with residents and nearly 15,000 with tourists - offering directions, resolving disturbances, and fostering shared responsibility. Block leaders helped move people on when they were causing obstruction or nuisance - generally without incident, testament to their sense of community.

This experience reminded me that even in the most complex and painful circumstances, people can come together to create something hopeful. And yet, even in Ottawa, access to recovery services remains limited. Not everyone will succeed -but I left wanting something different for them. Something better.

Karyn McCluskey Chief Executive Community Justice Scotland