Spice

Meet Spice. 

In the 1980s John Huffman, a chemistry professor at Clemson University (South Carolina), and his team of researchers started to synthethise cannabinoid compounds as a study into cannabinoid receptor genetics, and to treat chronic pain associated with medical conditions such as cancer. Over the next twenty years Huffman would go on to create 400+ compounds, all of which contained Tetrahydrocannabinol (or THC), the primary psychoactive element of cannabis. 

Some years later, in the early 2000s, a new legal high drug entered the market. Spice, taking its name from Spice Melange - the drug fictionalised in Frank Herbert’s Dune - was seen as a effective cannabis substitute with manifest psychedelic effects, unlike most other legal highs on the market at the time. That first incarnation of Spice was based on one of the many compounds that had been synthesised by Hoffman and team. 

Fast forward 15 years and “Spice” - now a generic term for a range of similar psychoactive drugs - is the scourge of the homeless and prison system in equal measure. A series of bans - of certain legal highs in 2009 and then the all-encompassing Psychoactive Substance Act in 2016 - have pushed the drug underground and while the drug can no longer be purchased on the shelves it continues to be readily available to the homeless community in particular, especially those based in the larger cities.

And what started as a relatively harmless “fake weed” has now morphed into a drug that is wildly inconsistent from batch to batch, with differing, and oftentimes unidentifiable chemicals, resulting in a range of different strengths, side effects and dangers. A particular strain of Spice in Brooklyn, New York, was found to be 85 times stronger than THC, while another tested in the UK was found to contain a chemical which had led to 10 deaths in Japan. A recent batch, sampled in Manchester and given the moniker “Annihilation”, was found to be some 10 times stronger than ‘usual’.

Known in some circles as the “zombie drug”, Spice often induces a catatonic state in the user. Walk around Piccadilly Gardens in Manchester - day or night - and the evidence is there. Users can be found lying, comatose, on the streets or leaning, as if set in stone, on doorways. And the side effects are manifold: throwing up, violently accelerated heart rate, breathing difficulties, aggressive behaviour and suicidal thoughts. 

On my travels in the city centre I meet Tim (name changed) - he’s been on the streets for 6 months and is a recovering heroin addict. He tells me of the time he tried Spice - “3 drags, mate, that’s all it took’ - and the resulting trip to A&E - “I was seeing triple, couldn’t breathe and was tripping my head off. It was horrible. 100 times worse than any skag I ever did.” Spice is clearly a means to self-medicate for those experiencing the hardships of homelessness but the negative effects, not to mention the addictive nature of the drug, surely out-weigh those positives. 

That makes the results of a charity-led study done in 2017 all the more disquieting. Statistics indicate that upwards of 90% of the homeless community have taken Spice. Dr Robert Ralph, a professor at Manchester Metropolitan University says that it’s “common for people to say it’s overtaken their heroin or methadone addiction”, suggesting those existing users, whilst ever remaining on the streets, will continue to take the drug. And as the number of homeless continues to rise so does too the number of new users. 

Emergency services in Manchester are groaning under the stress of repeated call-outs to the city centre. A contact in the Ambulance Service explains they  “receive multiple calls a day with the hot spot being around Piccadilly and the Northern Quarter which is extra strain on a very busy service”. Similarly the Police are underfunded and understaffed to deal with the issue - over the course of one weekend alone they had to respond to 58 Spice related incidents.

In 2013 Operation Mandera was launched by the police to respond to “antisocial and drug-related activity in Piccadilly Gardens”. Partnerships have been formed with key social bodies, including the local courts as well as the City Council Antisocial Behaviour Action team to target dealers. In a 7 month period in 2017 47 people were arrested in connection with spice dealing. And while the emergency services’ unstinting efforts to tackle the blight on their home city are to be lauded there remains the feeling that it is not enough. If anything the visible numbers of those on Spice is increasing, and all the while this has a detrimental effect on local businesses and the reputation of Manchester, as well as diverting key city-based resources.

The council has initiated the City Centre Accountability Board - comprised of local business representatives, senior council members and the police, while the mayor has called for additional funding to aid the fight on Spice. New users of the drugs, and recent additions to the homeless community, add to the already growing gap between available hostel spaces and the number of people on the streets. The generosity of local Mancunians is not unlimited either.

In the same 7 months reporting period for the police 64 users were referred to support services. This doesn’t preclude those people reusing the drug, and indeed barely scratches the surface of the ~90% of homeless people in Manchester that use the drug. Theirs is a worryingly vulnerable segment of society - a dealer was recently arrested for targeting homeless people waiting for beds at a cold weather refuge - and one to which the city must continue to increase funding, on-street support and medical services, not to mention addressing the problems leading to homelessness in the first place.


Upon discovering that his compound was the basis for a drug ravaging cities and ruining lives, John Huffman stated that “someone opened Pandora’s box”. Urgent steps must be taken to put a lid on this critical issue before it’s too late.