Chutes and Ladders
- Lisa Poggi
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Recently, I was discussing the substance use epidemic with a friend who works in addiction advocacy. We were talking about the obstacles, hurdles, and pitfalls my son William encountered in his struggle with and eventual death from heroin. In a flippant moment, I described his experience and that of many like him as a game of “Chutes and Ladders” where the board only contained chutes.
That remark is, in fact, my dismal assessment of the possibility of obtaining any kind of substance use treatment; the remote possibility of obtaining effective, quality treatment; and ultimately the even more remote likelihood of achieving sustained recovery. People do recover, but I doubt few would argue that the necessary hard work of recovery balances precariously beside chance. Chance plays too large a role in overcoming the flaws in our system, the chutes.
Out of curiosity, I went to the internet to see what I might learn about “Chutes and Ladders”. The board game we know today in the U.S. originated in ancient India, where it was called “Snakes and Ladders”. Originally meant as a game of instruction for Hindu children, the square where each ladder started stood for a virtue (Generosity, Faith, Humility). Those with the head of a snake in them stood for a vice (Lust, Anger, Murder, Theft). In the original, the snakes (Had they slithered over from Eden?) outnumbered the ladders. The game was meant to represent a life’s journey. The final square represented Moksha, spiritual liberation.
When the game arrived in England in the latter part of the 19th century via returning colonial families, Victorian virtues and vices replaced those of India. Ladders (Thrift, Penitence, Industry) led to squares of Fulfillment, Grace, and Success. The snakes of Indulgence, Disobedience, and Indolence led to Illness, Disgrace, and Poverty. Were there people with addiction inhabiting those squares? In the English version of the game, the number of snakes and ladders was equalized, sin and the chance for redemption balanced.
In 1943, Milton Bradley released a version of the game, renamed “Chutes and Ladders”. The now familiar playground setting on the game board replaced the snakes, which were received negatively by American children. In Canada, the game remained “Snakes and Ladders.” The American version retained artwork teaching children morality lessons: good deeds being rewarded at the top of a ladder, mischief and foolish behavior at the top of a chute shows a child suffering consequences at the bottom of a chute. Since 1943, there have been numerous versions of the game released both in the U.S. and abroad.
So, what might a substance use version of the game look like? It would revert to a heavy moral tone for starters. That would most certainly mean a return to “Snakes and Ladders”. Or maybe “Adders and Ladders”. A tempting devil snake pushing substances on the weak-willed and morally bereft would be an absolute must. And, of course, the ratio of snakes to ladders would tilt heavily in favor of the snakes. It would be, as in ancient India, representative of life’s journey.
Ladders (Medication Assisted Treatment, Harm Reduction, Narcan [gains you an extra roll of the dice perhaps], In or Out Patient Treatment) would lead toward Sobriety, Self-knowledge, and
Fulfillment. The Treatment ladder would certainly land one in square 28 on the path to full recovery.
Snakes would abound (Lying, Stealing, Anger, Insurance Denial, Arrest, Bogus Rehabs, just to name a few) and would slide you back to Cold Turkey, Disgrace, Poverty, Homelessness, Loneliness, and Despair – again to name a few possibilities.
Somewhere near the top of the board would be two highly venomous snakes – the Relapse Twins. The bite of one would take you “back to square one”, a phrase that apparently had its origin in “Snakes and Ladders.” The bite of the other would take you to Rock Bottom, not a square full of motivating self-recognition, but rather an extra square below the bottom of the board that immediately eliminates you. No more rolls of the dice, game over for you. This is, after all, a game that replicates life.
It’s an ancient game. Still little room for compassion, science, or innovation. It’s the game we play everywhere in this country of ours. Rock Bottom piles up nearly two hundred bodies a day.
by Bill Williams
Bill is the father of two. His son William died of an overdose in 2012 and he has been a relentless advocate for access and insurance coverage for addiction treatment ever since.
Check out Bill's blog @ http://billwilliamsblog.blogspot.com
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