They are derelict, and we should not be afraid to say so

As an adjective, “derelict” means abandoned, given up on or forsaken by its natural owner or guardian. It can describe a thing, a place or a person.

Those are harsh words when you apply them to the people who approach us every day on the sidewalks, in the alleyways and at the intersections of our cities. These are the people who sleep on park benches and build shelters out of cardboard and scrap in all kinds of weather.

They may be living with addiction, homelessness, mental illness or poverty, with no money except what the government gives them. They scavenge, some steal what belongs to others, and many poison themselves with cheap alcohol or street drugs. They are often treated like garbage, and too many come to see themselves the same way.

Am I blaming the victims? No. Am I calling them names to demean them? No. If you have never worked with people in this situation, what I am writing may sound outrageous. I have worked with such clients in New York City, Washington, D.C., and Toronto, as well as in rural areas where unemployment is widespread.

Small towns across the Midwest of Canada and the United States struggle with unemployment and social stigma. The mountain communities of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Tennessee and Kentucky, down through Georgia and into Missouri, know what it is like to live in an economically depressed region. Those communities have the wealthy, the middle class, the working class and those who have nothing at all. Call it a North American caste system at work.

Many of the people we pass on city streets came from rural areas, looking for jobs and opportunity. Some never find a place in the city, or work, or family. Society tends to forget them or push them aside, because they make no financial contribution. They become derelict: abandoned by others, ignored, living on society’s scraps, and often turning on themselves. Suicide, self-harm and addiction are all part of this picture.

Society tries to help, but in my view much of that help ends up enabling people in their troubles. Supervised consumption sites let people keep using “in a safe place,” and while they do offer counselling and referrals, too few people ever move on to treatment. Shelters house people in crowded dormitories with bunk beds, which breeds conflict, and in too many shelters and drop-in centres drug dealing continues because residents’ privacy is protected above all else.

Do I feel sorry for these people? Not in the way you might expect. Many are where they are because of bad choices, their own, their families’ or their employers’. Instead of confronting their situation, many give up, emotionally and spiritually. Some die on the streets or in shelters from the cold, from crime or from drugs. Many show they cannot care for themselves, let alone their families. Society needs to take direct action, and that action needs to be firm, with the goal of saving lives.

May I suggest a solution? It will not please the left or the right. Mental illness is everywhere, in homes, schools, businesses and on the streets. Our governments avoid confronting it because the cure would limit the personal freedom of the people affected and put a financial burden on taxpayers. They talk the talk but will not walk the walk on public safety.

Anyone who sleeps outside when it is minus 30 or minus 40 and refuses a shelter bed is, in my view, putting their life in serious danger, and that should be treated as a mental health emergency. Police should be able to take them not to jail but to a place of safety. This is where fiscal conservatives and penny-pinching businesses will complain. These people should go to properly prepared centres where they can be assessed, given a medical checkup, fed and given a bed. Psychologists, social workers and addiction counsellors employed by the city or province would assess each person and direct them to rehabilitation, education, skills training or hospital care, as they need.

Apply the big stick, but open society’s hearts and minds to these people as well, hoping for the best while preparing for the worst.

Every province already allows involuntary psychiatric assessment in some circumstances, and Alberta has moved to allow involuntary addiction treatment. My proposal would go further. Society has to settle the privacy question: should we stop and help someone in need, or let them work it out for themselves? Sometimes a person needs firm, compassionate public action for their own good. Poverty and social exclusion do not have to be accepted, as they have been for centuries.

So, folks, what is better: a person who can contribute to society, or someone we must keep lifting up because their problems and mental injuries are never resolved? We can save lives through a transformational program run by public authorities, or we can accept that people may choose to destroy themselves through addiction, poverty and mental illness. Choose wisely.

Steven Kaszab lives in Bradford, Ont. The views expressed are the author’s own.

If you or someone you know is in crisis, call or text 9-8-8, the Suicide Crisis Helpline, available across Canada 24 hours a day.