Your glow stick could land you in jail

Biden argues that this will never happen. "The purpose of my legislation is not to prosecute legitimate law-abiding managers of stadiums, arenas, performing arts centers, licensed beverage facilities and other venues because of incidental drug use at their events," he wrote when he introduced the Illicit Drug Anti-Proliferation Act. "My bill would help in the prosecution of rogue promoters who not only know that there is drug use at their event but also hold the event for the purpose of illegal drug use or distribution."

Unfortunately, precedents show otherwise. Biden's bill -- even with the findings removed -- formalizes what has been taking place in drug-enforcement circles for several years: Since 2000, authorities around the country have moved to shut down some of the nation's most popular dance parties, using the crack-house statue as a bludgeon and those glow sticks and chill rooms as their evidence. In many cities, such as San Diego and Fort Lauderdale, the police have even formed "Rave Task Forces" -- and study DEA-provided fact sheets that detail drug paraphernalia (sports drinks! lollipops! eye drops!) -- to shut down electronic music events and jail their promoters.

In New Orleans, for example, the promoters of one of the city's most popular dance clubs, Freebass, were charged with allowing drug use to take place at their events, despite an utter lack of evidence that they were in any way involved with or aware of drug sales. The promoters plea-bargained to avoid a costly lawsuit and ended up signing an injunction that forbade the presence of glow sticks, pacifiers, massage tables and chill rooms at any future parties (as if these were somehow to blame for the drug problem). And the Department of Alcohol and Beverage Control last week moved to shut down Ten 15 Folsom, one of the largest and most popular nightclubs in San Francisco, and accused the owners of permitting drug use to take place there. Once again, investigators pointed at the presence of glow sticks, as well as emergency medical technicians (which, ironically, Ten 15 had begun providing, by court order, after several overdoses by customers) as evidence that the club owners endorsed drug use.

The backward logic of this thinking punishes club owners and rave promoters for trying to keep their customers safe. It is inevitable that some revelers at just about any kind of musical event -- whether an Avril Lavigne concert or a techno dance club -- are going to bring and consume drugs, no matter how diligently you search their pockets or how often you eject offenders. Club owners and party promoters are aware of this (who isn't?) and often do everything they can to both limit this activity and prevent tragedies among those who pop pills anyway. It's quite possible that the Illicit Drug Anti-Proliferation Act will force panicky promoters to reconsider providing ambulances or EMTs, lest those be used as "evidence" against them. Already, many parties have stopped harm-reduction groups like DanceSafe from coming to their events to pass out safety literature or anonymously test Ecstasy pills to ensure that they aren't more lethal concoctions.

Once the president signs the bill, promoters may consider the risks and never throw parties at all. Others will simply move their parties underground to illegal locations (abandoned warehouses, empty buildings, remote fields) where they are less likely to be found by authorities but more likely to be providing an unsafe setting for their customers.

The law isn't limited to electronic music events, either. Civil liberties experts worry that it could be used as a tool of bigotry to shut down hip-hop or gay-circuit parties. In a worst-case scenario, the DEA could even bust you for a private barbecue in your home where friends light up a bong: After all, the new law covers private residences, too. That may be unlikely, but the DEA is no stranger to badly conceived drug raids.

No one is arguing that drug use doesn't take place at raves and nightclubs and concerts, that kids don't sometimes use glow sticks or pacifiers to enhance their high, or that drugs aren't harmful -- occasionally lethal -- for kids. But in its rush to stamp out America's current drug demon, Ecstasy, this sweeping and illogical legislation instead violates basic civil liberties and labels entire communities as the enemy.

All these concerns may very well have come out during public debate on the law -- but, of course, that never happened. Immediately after the AMBER Alert was passed, Sen. Leahy issued a press release complaining about the unrelated legislation that was piggybacked on the bill, singling out the Illicit Drug Anti-Proliferation Act as one of the worst offenders. "Business owners have come to Congress and told us there are only so many steps they can take to prevent any of the thousands of people who may attend a concert or a rave from using drugs, and they are worried about being held personally accountable for the illegal acts of others," he wrote. "Those concerns may well be overstated, but they deserve a fuller hearing ... I think we would have been well-served by making a greater effort to find out."

Too late. Instead, yet another badly conceived piece of drug legislation, capriciously taking aim at the enemy du jour, was rammed through the system before more rational voices could discuss it. The vote took a matter of minutes and no thought whatsoever; the repercussions of the law will be felt for years.

This story has been corrected since it was first published.