Whether we’re conscious of it or not, we come into contact with addiction in some form every day. We often trivialise it, belittle it, ignore it or accept it depending on what exactly we’re talking about. It’s reflected in our language.

We don't think of “getting hooked” on sugar, TV and social media, being a gym-junkie or a shopaholic as addiction. We just think of these everyday predilections as part of being human. We even turn a blind eye to problematic behaviours such as drinking or gambling to excess — in part because they're legal.

But when the substance or behaviour moves from the fringes and those affected are unable to cope in society, our attitudes can drastically change.

Our language and tone becomes judgemental and we label people as addicts, junkies and druggies. Without thinking, we strip the "addict" of humanity as we explain their existence away with a few select words.

It’s frightening how quickly we can disregard our fellow human beings, shooing them from our lives like human clutter. We perhaps justify our behaviour with the presumption that drug users are invariably synonymous with "criminals" and "degenerates". Not at all like us.

Are we so different? Did we simply make better decisions than that person on the street asking for a buck? Did we just say no? Were we brought up in a better home? Did we avoid the wrong crowd? Were we smarter? More ethical?

It would be too easy to assume that was true and move on. But that is far from true. Instead we'll find that there’s not a single demographic immune to addiction.

Equally, there are plenty of people who fit the criteria of addiction who are not criminals. A failed "war on drugs" has provided all the evidence we need to see that criminalisation is an exercise in futility.

Instead of offering treatment and opportunities for recovery, we criminalised addicts — and to what end? People don’t just say "No" when told to. Nor is punishment — even jail time — sufficient to deter people from risky behaviours and substances.

We can look to the USA for ample evidence of this. That country has just five per cent of the world’s population but nearly 25 per cent of the world’s incarcerated people locked up in their prisons. And an astounding fifth of its 2.3 million prisoners are behind bars on drug charges. Many are imprisoned merely for the possession of drugs.

Portugal has taken a different approach. In the 1990s the country was wracked by a drug epidemic which led to significant drug-fuelled violence and death. In 2001 Portugal decriminalised all drugs. The outcome was that drug use actually decreased, deaths by overdose plummeted by 80 per cent, and new HIV infections among drug users fell from 52 per cent to seven per cent.

We shouldn't be surprised by these results. Portugal began dealing with addiction as a health problem. The substances remained illegal but possession of small quantities ceased to be. People are now referred to professional medical services rather than to police stations and courtrooms. Portugal wants its citizens to recover and has taken action to support recovery rather than following a punitive approach.

In Sydney a "safe injection" room facility has operated for nearly 20 years. It follows the same principle of harm reduction. While the drugs themselves are still illegal, with the provision of this safe space and clean needles there has been not a single overdose or infection.

It’s undeniable that the way we treat people — all colours, creeds, persuasions, and lifestyles — matters.

The way we choose to treat our most vulnerable and dependent people matters even more. Policies made with compassion and well-researched information save lives and safeguard the humanity of each person. We can all learn from this.

Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 237 May 2019: 26