Writing and making Traffik was an extraordinary experience, which came about almost on impulse. At lunch with the producer, Brian Eastman, he said that Channel 4 was looking for a contemporary social drama. Did I have any ideas? I said immediately that I’d always wanted to do something big and international about drugs, but without any morality attached. I had nothing more – no story, no characters, and certainly nothing to say about the subject. I talked as though I had been thinking about the idea for years, but in truth it had just surged into my head, in response to his question. It was a good start.

Whenever I begin writing a project I spend a long time thinking about what I do not want it to be. Drugs was one of those subjects that TV had done to death, with endless thrillers and cop shows, but they all tended to have a simple moral battle between the forces of law and order (good) and the criminals (bad). To reassure the audience that the war on drugs was not futile, and to provide a suitably dramatic climax, they invariably ended with ‘Mr Big’ being captured and an enormous haul of drugs being taken off the streets, saving our children once again. Not only was this predictable, but it also seemed to me to be dishonest and unhelpful. Supposing our drugs policies were making things worse rather than better? Supposing people took drugs not because they were stupid but because drugs made them feel better, or less terrified of life? Or the people who grew and sold drugs were doing so simply to survive? Supposing the war on drugs was completely unwinnable?

So, instead of ending with a big drugs bust, Traffik starts with one, and then shows how the route is put back together over the next six months. It is not the story that audiences are used to, and it is a depressing one, but I wanted to examine the drug business as though it were just like any other industry; how it works, and what kind of people are involved in all stages of production and distribution.