There’s an old term, “scofflaw,” that refers to a person who refuses to obey the law. The Chronicle reported over the weekend about a scofflaw named Stephon Fowler, a drug addict and dealer who plies his trade on Sixth Street, arguably the worst street in San Francisco.
On any given day, Fowler can be found “hawk[ing] fentanyl and crack…as customers cluster with glass pipes and tin foil…”. A Chronicle reporter, working on a story about Mayor Breed’s latest “crackdown” on open-air drug use and dealing, interviewed Fowler to ask what he thought about the National Guard and California Highway Patrol being brought in to help combat drug crime. Fowler replied jauntily, “Ain’t gonna happen…The only thing that could get me to stop [dealing and doing drugs] would be God.”
It’s not likely that God will intervene to stop Fowler and people like him. But there’s something else that can put a stop to his aberrant behavior: haul his ass to jail immediately and make sure he doesn’t get out anytime soon.
I think this is the reaction most people have concerning these drug dealers. Lock them up and throw away the key! Unfortunately, though, there are a lot of people who don’t like this tough-on-crime approach. They insist on expensive treatment for people like Fowler. But I doubt if any form of therapy can ever change his way of thinking. He’s confident nothing can change him—and he doesn’t want to be changed. He’s 100% sure he can continue to outwit the justice system in San Francisco. And he’s probably right, because the city’s authorities—from the Mayor and Supervisors on down—refuse to get real with these criminals. A normal city would round them up and hustle them off to jail, but San Francisco isn’t a normal city; it’s San Fransicko, and Oakland is even worse. At least San Francisco’s Mayor talks about getting tough on drug criminals. Sheng Thao doesn’t even mention it. She’s too busy tweeting about Pride Month and ferry boats to be bothered about crime.
But back to Mr. Fowler. Can you imagine the chutzpah of a drug dealer who boasts to a reporter that no one and nothing can ever stop him? I would suggest that this insouciance is the direct result of generations of progressive activism in San Francisco—activism that has enabled criminals of every sort, who know how unlikely it is that they’ll ever be arrested for their crimes. Indeed, when San Francisco calls itself a sanctuary city, it is: a sanctuary for drug users and dealers.
Why can’t this city make up its mind to do what should be done? I know it’s not as simple as merely scooting Fowler off to the county jail. The District Attorney would need to file charges against him; a court trial would follow (assuming Fowler pled not guilty), and a jury would have to make up its mind to convict. Obviously, many things could go wrong during this lengthy process, and most likely the local media would express sympathy toward Fowler, the way they always do with drug dealers. People would write angry letters to the editor urging “treatment, not jail” for misunderstood dealers like Fowler. There would be demonstrations: FREE FOWLER signs, angry gestures toward cops, the ACLU filing some kind of lawsuit. The city would be ripped open, and meanwhile, the bodies would pile up, of people killed because they took fentanyl. And the politicians would continue to blab stupidities about “thoughts and prayers” while refusing to dismantle a system that favors drugs over people.
So why can’t we do it—pick Fowler up, throw him in jail, and let him know that his smirky self-confidence was maybe a little misplaced? When he’s facing the prospect of spending years in an 8’ x 10’ cell with a metal toilet and concrete floor, he might understand that, not God, but his fellow citizens finally decided to stop his rampage through our society. As the word gets out there on the street that San Francisco is finally cracking down on drugs, I assure you the dealers will find another city to pillage. But please, not Oakland!
Steve Heimoff