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By any statistical or logistical analysis, Measure 110 — Oregon’s first-in-the-nation attempt to address drug abuse by shifting the focus from legal punishment to treatment and recovery — hasn’t worked.

Yet.

Truth is, Measure 110 might never work. The law, which sharply reduced criminal penalties for possession of smaller amounts of drugs, has created a slew of side effects that opponents anticipated or feared would happen.

Overdoses across the state have risen 61% (as opposed to 13% nationwide) since Measure 110 went into effect in February of 2021, according to Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Much of the money diverted from cannabis taxes has yet to find its way to some much-needed areas — such as establishing treatment and rehabilitation programs.

Beyond that, law enforcement officials — including Jackson County Sheriff Nate Sickler — have pointed out increases in accompanying crimes, and the decrease of cases going to the county’s drug-court program.

“Without accountability, or the ability to derive a better choice,” Sickler recently told The Atlantic Monthly magazine, “these individuals are left to their own device.”

The recent session of the Oregon Legislature made some structural revisions in Measure 110 but, in terms of public perception, it might be a matter of too little, too late.

Whereas 58.5% of state voters approved of Measure 110 when it was on the November 2020 ballot, one recent statewide poll found that more than 60% now believe the law needs to be changed.

Others, such as the Jackson County Board of Commissioners, suggest that simply continuing to make revisions is insufficient.

The commissioners last week called for Measure 110 to be repealed, citing “the derogatory effects and long-term effects to the health, safety and welfare to the citizens of Jackson County.”

Other counties across the state have discussed officially making similar feelings known. Regardless of how Measure 110 would, or could, be repealed, the idea of returning to the decades-long failure known as the “War on Drugs” doesn’t seem to make much sense, either.

In the same Atlantic Monthly report, Julia Pinsky — co-founder of the local Max’s Mission outreach and harm-reduction nonprofit organization — agrees that “perhaps some consequences might be a helpful thing” in retooling Measure 110, but that “you shouldn’t have to go to prison to be treated for substance abuse.”

The question, as we see it, shouldn’t be centered entirely around whether to keep Measure 110 on the books. Repealing it might be seen as a political victory for the “throw them all in jail” crowd, but it does little to attack the underlying issue of drug abuse.

Yes, overdoses have spiked since the law went into effect — but so has the use and availability of fentanyl. This is a chicken-or-the-egg scenario where it doesn’t matter which came first … people are dying.

Even while calling for repeal, the county commissioners acknowledge that simply killing Measure 110 isn’t a panacea for what ails our society.

“This is not about turning our backs on those grappling with addiction,” Commissioner Rick Dyer wrote in a Guest Column for the Times. “It’s about adopting a more comprehensive approach.

“We need to prioritize a delicate balance between accountability and treatment, addressing the root causes of addiction.”

Measure 110 hasn’t worked … yet. It might never work. But before throwing it out entirely, it would serve the state and our community best to have a workable alternative in place to achieve that “delicate balance.”

Because returning to the failed policies of the past takes us down the same road that led us to Measure 110 in the first place.