Goodbye, Fungus Fix

In Amsterdam the Psilocybe cubensis has become a regular on the menu of stimulants offered to visitors. The "magic mushroom," as it is more commonly known, has a lot going for it. It's cheap, it's organic, and upon consumption the coolest things happen to you: dustbins turn into green dragons, trees turn into vertical lines, and faces take on funny shapes. Yet the mushroom's biggest asset in the Netherlands is that it's legal. Just drop by one of Amsterdam's so-called "smart shops," with self-explanatory names such as Euphoria, Conscious Dreams or Altered State. For less than 20 bucks popular brands like Philosopher's Stone or the Golden Teacher will give you a mesmerizing evening.

Holland's fungus fantasy, however, could soon be over. Last week the Dutch health minister proposed a total ban on the sale of hallucinogenic mushrooms in the Netherlands. If the government has its way, which is very likely, the mushroom will become an illegal drug within a few months. The ban will almost certainly spell the end of an industry that has been flourishing in Holland since the mid '90s, forcing the majority of smart shops to start selling wooden shoes or Delft Blue pottery. But it also, some argue, heralds the end of the country's world-famous lenient drug policy.

Until recently Holland regarded psychoactive mushrooms as a relatively harmless intoxicator. A recent report by a government health agency called the magic fungi "no peril to public health" and saw no reason for a ban. This past year, however, Amsterdam was shaken by a number of incidents involving mushrooms. In March a 17-year-old French high-school student killed herself by jumping off a building. In July a panic-stricken tourist from Iceland plunged out of his hotel window (surviving, but ruining both his legs). Some weeks earlier, a heavily intoxicated Briton gave his hotel room a complete trashing (badly injuring himself in the process).

"Mushrooms may not be as harmful as cocaine or heroin, but we simply shouldn't take the risk of selling this stuff," says Ed Anker, an MP for the conservative ChristenUnie party who supports the ban. "I don't want to sit around waiting for another casualty."

Users and sellers of mushrooms are outraged by the ban. Paul van Oyen, a spokesman for the national association of smart shop owners, calls the government's decision "narrow-minded," adding, "The health secretary has lost his sanity." Although Amsterdam's approximately 40 smart shops don't trade only in mushrooms (most of them also sell energy drinks, aphrodisiacs and substances said to be herbal equivalents to synthetic drugs like ecstasy and LSD), they fear the end of their business. A hastily opened Web site called "Save the Mushroom" claims to have received more than 25,000 supporting e-mails in just one week.

It's not just Dutch mushroom aficionados who are up in arms. Many drug experts lament the government's decision as well. August de Loor, an independent addiction consultant in Amsterdam, warns of a shift to illegal drugs that are much more dangerous. "Right now the authorities have the possibility of monitoring the use of mushrooms," he says. "If people turn to the black market for their mushroom fix, they will also be tempted to buy stuff like LSD and GHB." This has been the crux of Dutch drug policy over the last 35 years: regulation instead of suppression, harm reduction instead of prohibition. Mushrooms have been legal, and while marijuana is technically illegal, the authorities have tolerated the purchase and use of small amounts. The government has dispensed clean needles for heroin users in some cities and, for a brief time, even offered free testing of ecstasy pills at dance parties.