Scotland’s devastating drug death crisis would have been tackled far sooner if it had been killing middle class people rather than those from deprived communities, a senior politician has claimed.
Labour MSP Michael Marra didn’t mince his words when he described the situation as “indefensible”, pointing to stark figures showing that Scots from the poorest backgrounds are a staggering 15 times more likely to die from drugs than those from wealthier areas.
The accusation cuts to the heart of a crisis that has haunted Scotland for years. The country has long held the grim title of having the worst drug death rate in Europe, a statistic that should shame every level of government, yet meaningful progress has been painfully slow.
Marra’s argument is a straightforward one. When problems hit affluent communities, resources follow quickly. Campaigns get launched. Budgets get unlocked. Politicians take notice. But when the same scale of tragedy plays out in working class and deprived communities, the urgency somehow never quite matches the scale of the suffering.
The numbers back him up. Year after year, the drug death statistics in Scotland reveal a crisis that is not spread evenly across society. It is concentrated in areas already dealing with poverty, unemployment, poor housing and a lack of opportunity. Places where people have been failed repeatedly and where addiction has taken hold across generations.
Scotland recorded over 1,000 drug deaths in a single year for the first time back in 2019, and while there have been slight fluctuations since then, the overall picture remains deeply troubling. Campaigners and families who have lost loved ones have repeatedly called for faster action, more treatment options and a genuine shift away from criminalising people who are struggling with addiction.
Progress on measures like drug consumption rooms, where people can use substances under medical supervision to prevent overdose deaths, has been frustratingly slow due to legal barriers and political hesitation. Supporters argue these facilities save lives and have worked in other countries, but getting them off the ground in Scotland has involved years of debate with little to show for it.
For those working on the frontline of the crisis, Marra’s comments will ring true. Addiction workers and charities have long argued that stigma plays a massive role in how drug deaths are treated as a public health emergency. When the victims are predominantly from poorer backgrounds, it is easier for wider society to look away, to write it off as a lifestyle choice rather than a complex health issue shaped by trauma, poverty and lack of support.
Families who have lost sons, daughters, brothers and sisters to drug overdoses have been making this exact point for years. Many have campaigned tirelessly for change while feeling ignored by the very institutions that should be acting with urgency.
The Scottish Government has faced sustained criticism over its handling of the crisis. While it has introduced various strategies and invested in treatment services, opponents argue the response has never matched the sheer scale of the problem. The 15 times higher death rate among people from deprived areas is not just a statistic, it represents a systemic failure to protect the most vulnerable people in Scottish society.
Marra’s intervention is a challenge to politicians across all parties to ask themselves an honest question. If the same number of people were dying in leafy suburbs and affluent towns, would the response look the same? Would there still be delays, legal wrangling and half measures? Or would the full weight of government come down to solve it as quickly as possible?
The answer, most people would quietly admit, is probably not.
Scotland has the talent, the medical expertise and the resources to tackle this crisis properly. What has too often been missing is the political will to treat the lives of people from deprived communities as being worth exactly the same urgent action as anyone else.