Learning about addiction at IHRA's exhibition week
Exhibitions are always what I would call an ‘experience’. This is usually what I’m thinking as I lug yet another box onto the exhibition stand. In many ways the curse of the exhibitor, all this behind-the-scenes action can often detract from the real, enjoyable experiences available at a show.
Fortunately for me, this week’s exhibition, held by the International Harm Reduction Association, was something of a treat. Of course there was the usual sweating and swearing; the near death experiences as one hangs precariously by a single finger from the top of the stand; and the imminent possibility of electrocution as yet another extension lead is plugged into an already overworked mains supply. But here was the chance to experience something quite different from the usual B2B extravaganzas that I’m used to.
The IHRA conference was just as it sounds: an event that gives people the chance to learn, impart and share knowledge on harm prevention. And it’s true to its word. This is a truly international event, with delegates from all corners of the globe: Afghanistan, Thailand, Denmark, Malaysia, Tanzania and Jordan, to name but a few. Added to this layer of diversity is the sheer breadth of job titles, with everyone from psychiatrists, researchers and professors, through to chief executives, vice presidents and programme managers, in attendance.
As an exhibitor I was there to help promote the solutions available from Argus Global – a recent client of 2nd Head. Argus delivers biometric solutions that (amongst others) automate the dispensal of scheduled poisons, such as methadone. Straightforward as this may be in concept, the reality of a commercial exhibitor in this environment is slightly more complex. Unlike the B2B set-ups that I’m used to, where suppliers unashamedly promote their wares (why would they not?) to representatives from other businesses, here things are on a less equal footing.
For one thing, there are the moral issues that surround the idea of making money from a solution that helps to manage drug addiction. While a hospital director with a large budget will be used to making purchasing decisions that involve commercial suppliers, many of the delegates here are from a distinctly non-business background. For the ex-addicts, social workers, pharmacists, psychiatrists and professors, there is no business abstract here. This is a very real issue that directly impacts everyday lives.
That is not to say that we experienced any kind of backlash from delegates, but we had to be extraordinarily mindful of their concerns. And while any good marketer or sales person will have a strong awareness of context when promoting their products or services, in such a sensitive and non-commercial environment, there’s no doubting that the goal posts are moved.
I became particularly aware of this when a man started talking to me about alternatives to methadone. We had a fascinating discussion, thankfully aided by the insight of my ex-surgeon business partner, about the viability of methadone for addicts and how it can also be used in conjunction with other approaches. These are issues that I know very little about, but it’s deeply interesting to engage in dialogue on the subject.
On the other hand, there’s a lot less ‘marketing speak’ than you’d usually expect. I spent much of my time on the stand staring at a delightfully frank pop-up banner from Exchange Supplies, which declared ‘Take care of your veins... Avoid abscess, dirty hits, embolism and oedema. Avoid injecting particles.’ Not to mention the slogan on another stand, which claimed: ‘A fresh approach to needle exchange’- brutally honest, but of course in this environment it was entirely apt.
Upstairs in the posters area I spent some time reading research findings and case studies from the many different institutes involved in harm reduction. One such poster provided a case study on GSE (group sex encounters) and the intervention efforts to prevent the spread of disease in these scenarios.
Later on I stumbled across a seminar on intervention methods for heroin use: ‘Route Transition Interventions: Public Health Gains from Preventing or Reducing Injecting’, where I learnt that a) there is a country that borders Romania, called Moldova (apparently I wasn’t alone in my geographical ignorance) and b) in Moldova heroin has a purity of less than 2%, which means it can’t be injected. I also learnt that, surprisingly, Austrians prefer to snort rather than inject and that snorting is more common in younger users. And perhaps of most interest to me, the idea that drug users who don’t inject, perceive themselves as ‘users’ as opposed to ‘junkies’. I could go on...
While in some ways I felt like a tourist, casually observing a world that was not my own, it was undoubtedly a valuable way to discover more about the issues at stake.
But it wasn’t until words like ‘salacious’ were bandied about that I realised exactly how contentious harm reduction methods could be. I had naively assumed that the researchers, benignly striving for the greater good, could only be viewed in a positive light. I was proved wrong as a voice from the back of the room angrily berated one of the speakers for his intervention work, which he deemed insulting to the intelligence of drug users. At which point I felt my own flash of indignation on the speaker’s behalf, then quickly reminded myself that this is not my world and I should humbly acknowledge my own ignorance on these issues.
I ended my time at the conference in a ‘dialogue’ session, where people openly discussed the issues they faced with drug intervention, ranging from the difficulties surrounding current users working in clinics, to attempts to overcome CRB checks and look at ‘suitability’ of workers instead.
As I left the session and returned to my marketing head, I took the chance to take one last tour of the exhibition hall, hoping for the odd bit of inspiration to get me on my way. The most obvious of which was a wonderful stand from Frontier Medical, with a whole range of interactive features, including draws full of sweets...
On turning the corner, I found myself round the back of the stands, where tables were strewn with all sorts of promotional and educational paraphernalia. Amongst which were hundreds of little white badges with the text ‘NICE PEOPLE TAKE DRUGS’. Just as I’m thinking about this statement, a man approaches the table and picks up a handful saying: “They’re not bad people. Lots of bad people don’t take drugs. Shipman, he didn’t take drugs. Huntley, he weren’t on drugs.”
He’s a gentle soul, but there’s something frantic in his eyes that says there’s a story. Before I have a chance to ask him, he’s off round his own corner and into the distance.
So I leave the conference feeling less like a marketing professional and more like a person who’s had the privilege to meet and begin to understand the role of harm reduction. Which is why as I’m driving up the M6 I think “Nice people take drugs... yes they do.”
