Intrepidus

What were your thoughts on this incident between Livingston's Cammy Kerr and Rangers' Mikey Moore? Find out what SFA head of refereeing Willie Collum said on that, and much more, here: youtube.com/watch?v=4C6P-M…

Scotland's vape shop registration scheme can today be exposed as a farce. A Record investigation found any business could register their shop with no safety checks and within a day be on the SNP Government’s Register. dailyrecord.co.uk/news/scottish-…

Scotland's vape shop registration scheme can today be exposed as a farce. A Record investigation found any business could register their shop with no safety checks and within a day be on the SNP Government’s Register. dailyrecord.co.uk/news/scottish-…

Announced today: suspected drug deaths in Scotland have risen by 8%. Glasgow’s drug consumption room opened in January 2025. More than a year on, deaths have increased, with the sharpest rise in Glasgow itself. At the very least, the claim that these facilities reduce deaths at a population level remains unproven. That is the context. And it matters, because if you want to understand why Scotland remains the drug death capital of Europe, it is no longer enough to look at policy alone. You have to look at who shapes it. I’ve just watched & read the transcript from the Scottish Drugs Forum’s 40-year anniversary discussion. It was meant to be a celebration. What it actually offers is something far more revealing. A rare, unguarded glimpse into how influence, funding and narrative have become tightly woven together in Scottish drug policy, and how difficult it has become to meaningfully challenge that system from outside it. What is most striking is not simply what was said, but what it reveals when you listen carefully. Beneath the nostalgia and warm self-congratulation sits a candid picture of how a government-funded policy actor understands itself, its influence, and its place within the system. This is not neutral reflection. It is an organisation effectively interviewing itself about its own importance. The tone is reverential. The former CEO is not meaningfully challenged. He is affirmed, warmed up, and invited to narrate a version of events in which the organisation appears as founder, conscience, translator of evidence and defender of the vulnerable. One could reasonably read this as institutional myth-making rather than critical reflection. One of the most revealing remarks comes early. “I didn’t really have much of a boss. I think I had three appraisals in 36 years.” That may sound like a throwaway line, but it raises a serious question. What does accountability look like for an organisation that has had decades of influence over public policy, with long tenure and apparently limited external scrutiny? In any other area of public life, that would invite examination. There is also a clear tension running throughout the discussion. On the one hand, the organisation describes being under threat, facing hostile reviews, and navigating political pressure. On the other, it openly describes deep involvement in shaping strategy, influencing policy, contributing to national programmes, and working closely with government. Taken together, this suggests an organisation that is both influential and embedded within the system, even while retaining a self-image that includes elements of outsider status. That tension matters. The work of McPhee and Sheridan provides a useful lens here. Their analysis argues that established drug policy communities in Scotland play a significant role in shaping policy responses and can contribute to what they describe as “placebo policies”, where the appearance of action is prioritised while deeper structural causes remain insufficiently addressed. They note that established policy communities influence both emergency and strategic responses, allowing government to appear active while avoiding harder questions about deprivation and inequality. researchgate.net/publication/37… Read through that lens, parts of this discussion take on a different meaning. What is repeatedly emphasised is not outcome, but influence. Not whether the system has worked, but whether the organisation has remained central to shaping it. There is extensive discussion of access, positioning, narrative and survival. There is comparatively little sustained reflection on whether the dominant policy model has delivered what was intended. A particularly candid line is this: “we could have gone out all guns blazing and then we would’ve not existed.” That appears to acknowledge a tension between organisational survival and the willingness to openly challenge policy direction. It is not unique to this organisation. It is a known risk across publicly funded bodies. But it does raise a fair question about how far such constraints shape what can be said, and what cannot. Even more striking is the remark that “a sad irony… is that an outbreak… actually helped us stay in existence.” Taken at face value, it reads as honesty. But it also illustrates a broader dynamic where institutional relevance can become tied to ongoing crisis. That is not an accusation. It is a structural risk that deserves scrutiny. There are further moments that deepen that concern. It is acknowledged that criticism of government campaigns could risk funding consequences, suggesting that the boundaries of acceptable challenge may be shaped, at least in part, by financial dependence. In another example, messaging during the anthrax outbreak appears to have been constrained in order to maintain a consistent public line, even where practical differences in risk were understood. These are not presented as controversies within the discussion itself. Yet taken together, they point to a wider issue. When policy actors are closely tied to funding structures and system alignment, the space for independent challenge, even in moments of crisis, may become narrower than is publicly acknowledged. McPhee and Sheridan also highlight concerns about closed networks and limited transparency, noting that decision-making has taken place within “closed drug policy networks” and that this creates challenges for accountability. researchgate.net/publication/37… They go further, arguing that collaboration between Audit Scotland and Scottish Drugs Forum represented “a missed opportunity for an independent review”, pointing to the considerable influence such bodies have in shaping narratives, policy and programmes. That is a serious observation. When placed alongside this discussion, the alignment is difficult to ignore. The emphasis on “changing the narrative” is particularly telling. There is truth in the need to reduce stigma. But when narrative becomes a central achievement in itself, it raises a question. Does language risk substituting for measurable change? Better framing does not, on its own, reduce deaths. The discussion around “lived and living experience” also deserves careful reading. The participants stress that they are facilitating rather than directing voices. That may well be their intention. But in a system where funding, platforms and policy access are mediated through established organisations, it is reasonable to ask how those voices are selected, amplified and shaped, and how that influences the wider policy conversation. There is also a revealing dismissal of what is described as the “pointless debate” between abstinence and harm reduction. For many, that is not a trivial disagreement but a central question about the purpose and direction of treatment systems. Framing it as merely divisive risks minimising substantive differences in approach and outcome. On the national mission, the conversation highlights influence over medication-assisted treatment while expressing frustration about implementation and bureaucracy. What is less directly addressed is whether the overall approach has achieved its aims. McPhee and Sheridan suggest that major initiatives such as the Drug Death Task Force and national mission can function as “placebo policies”, signalling action while avoiding deeper structural drivers. Taken together, the conversation offers an insight into an organisation that is deeply embedded within the policy system it seeks to influence. It presents itself as experienced, evidence-informed and committed to improvement. At the same time, it raises legitimate questions about how influence is exercised, how success is measured, and how open the system is to external challenge. A reasonable reader might conclude that this is not simply an independent advocacy voice, but a policy actor operating within a close relationship with government, shaping both programmes and the narratives that surround them. In a country where deaths have risen again, and where the highest increase is in the very city hosting a flagship intervention, that question is no longer theoretical. If the same voices shape the policy, the funding and the narrative, who is left to hold the system to account? You can listen to the interview here linkedin.com/posts/new-epis…