Fentanyl kills thousands every year in America. Will Europe be next?

On the northern edge of Paris, far from the brasseries and museums, lies a cautionary tale of what happens when humanity trips up. Beneath a slew of motorway interchanges near the Porte de la Chapelle, dozens of dead-eyed drug addicts aimlessly wade through a makeshift campsite of tents and trash. There is no hope left here, just the stench of excrement and despair. On a recent visit, your columnist was too reticent to ask the hollowed-out souls wandering by which poison had caused their fall; but the place is known as la colline du crack, or crack hill. Social workers come and go; the authorities otherwise turn a blind eye. Police have moved the encampment around over the years, better to keep the inconvenience of human misery away from gentrifying neighbourhoods nearby.