DARE was founded in 1983 as a partnership between the Los Angeles Police Department and the L.A. public schools. The idea was simple: Officers would go into schools to talk to kids, “boosting the self-esteem of students so that they can resist the temptation to use drugs,” as the Los Angeles Times put it in a 10-year retrospective on the program in 1993.
The program drew bipartisan praise and spread like wildfire. Politicians realized that by supporting DARE, they could paint themselves as pro-cops and pro-kids: a win-win. President Ronald Reagan proclaimed the first “National DARE Day” in 1988, a tradition that continued well into the Obama administration.
Eventually, the program was in place in up to 75 percent of the nation’s school districts, by DARE’s own count. At its height, the group boasted an eight-figure budget, with much of that money coming from government sources. Individual state affiliates raised millions more.
But with success came scrutiny. Public health researchers started looking for evidence that the program was meeting its goals of reducing teen drug use. The first wave of studies, published in the early 1990s, didn’t find any.
“The effectiveness of DARE in altering students’ drug use behavior has yet to be established," concluded a University of Illinois at Chicago study in 1991.
Other research arrived at similar conclusions. In 1994, the Research Triangle Institute, funded in part by the Justice Department, conducted a meta-analysis of all the existing research on DARE. Its conclusion was withering: DARE had little to no impact on rates of teen drug use.
“DARE’s limited influence on adolescent drug use behavior contrasts with the program’s popularity and prevalence," the authors wrote. "An important implication is that DARE could be taking the place of other, more beneficial drug use curricula that adolescents could be receiving."
The Justice Department was so incensed by this unexpected finding that it refused to publish the study, according to contemporaneous news reports. “I don’t get it," DARE’s executive director at the time said of the RTI study’s findings. "It’s like kicking Santa Claus to me. We’re as pure as the driven snow."
But the kicking had only just begun. More studies showing similar findings trickled out in the 1990s. One study even suggested that DARE students were more likely than their peers to experiment with drugs and alcohol. The authors of that study chalked that up to a possible boomerang effect: “an attempt to persuade resulting in the adoption of an opposing position instead.” Telling a certain type of kid that he shouldn’t do drugs may simply result in him trying drugs out of spite.
By 2003, the former General Accounting Office launched its own DARE study to see if the Justice Department was getting a decent return on its DARE investment. The conclusion? "No significant differences in illicit drug use between students who received DARE" and those who didn’t.
The GAO report was the beginning of the end of DARE as most of us knew it. Funding started to dry up: In 2002, before the GAO report, DARE had an annual budget of over $10 million. By 2012, that figure had shrunk to $3.5 million.
By the late 2000s, DARE was faced with a choice: change or die. They opted for the former. The group decided to cautiously embrace evidence-based research after decades of antagonism toward it. The most significant change was the adoption of a new curriculum, titled "keepin’ it REAL.”
Cringe-worthy title aside, some of the research on this program to date suggests it actually works. It was commended in the recent Surgeon General’s Report on drug addiction for demonstrating efficacy at preventing substance use. The secret? “It’s not an anti-drug program," a co-developer of the new curriculum told Scientific American in 2014. “It’s about things like being honest and safe and responsible."
If it almost seems like DARE isn’t really an anti-drug group anymore, that’s because it isn’t. The group explicitly spells out this new reality in its tax filings. Prior to 2009, DARE stated on its 990 IRS filings that its mission was “to implement and support drug abuse resistance education and crime prevention programs in the USA.”
Post-2009, its mission is to simply “teach students good decision making skills to help them lead safe and healthy lives.”
Not everyone in the public health community is convinced the new DARE is any better than the old DARE. A peer-reviewed study published last year found that the specific versions of the keepin’ it REAL curriculum used by DARE haven’t been tested for efficacy.
“The systematic review revealed major shortfalls in the evidence basis for the KiR D.A.R.E. programme,” that study’s authors conclude. "Without empirical evidence, we cannot conclusively confirm or deny the effectiveness of the programme. However, we can conclude that the evidence basis for the D.A.R.E. version of KiR is weak, and that there is substantial reason to believe that KiR D.A.R.E. may not be suited for nationwide implementation."
There’s no doubt, however, that DARE is currently making an effort to adopt more of an evidence-based approach than in prior years, when the program’s practices were largely driven by the belief that they were "pure as the driven snow." This brings us back to the central irony of Jeff Sessions’s remarks on Tuesday, when he yearned for a return to the DARE of “the 1980s and the 1990s.”
Decades of research are unequivocal: The DARE of yesteryear didn’t work, and it may have actually made the drug problem worse. Instead of embracing DARE’s new evidence-based practices, Sessions offered up a return to the bad old days of drug policy, when decisions were driven by gut feeling and political expediency.