The Sun called David Flynn the "drug rap cook". Acc­ording to the Star, he was the "dopey cannabis cook". In the Mirror, the headline writer came up with "cooking pot". The tabloids knocked a lot of craic out of him, but all the media gave it plenty of wellie. It was a good yarn, a nice antidote to the doom and gloom enveloping the country.

Last Tuesday, Flynn pleaded guilty at Cork Circuit Criminal Court to growing and possessing cannabis plants. He used the stuff as an ingredient in making pizza, biscuits, cakes, dessert, butter and wine. He called the cookies Marrakesh Biscuits, while the wine was labelled Crème de Gras. There was also Cannon Butter and Alternative Pizza. He printed labels with logos and distributed the food and drink among his circle of friends. No money was exchanged. The gardaí accepted completely that the man was not a drug dealer. Judge Patrick Moran handed down a three-year suspended sentence.

I know Dave Flynn for the past 25 years. Understandably, he didn't want to talk last week. He's keeping a low profile, as you do when a prison sentence is suspended over your head. We're not close, but we do have a number of mutual friends. For what it's worth, I consider Flynn to be what the Americans call a stand-up guy. He's far from the stoner which the media coverage might be interpreted as portraying him.

He always had a bit of get up and go about him. He is an entrepreneur, not in the manner in which that label has been abused over the last decade, but in the true sense of the word. He has started a number of food businesses, and applied himself through hard work and enthusiasm. Circumstances dictated that he wasn't always successful, but in the best tradition of business, he always failed well, by starting out anew.

He is also in possession of a wicked sense of humour, and that more than anything is probably what prompted him to go to pot on the cooking front.

His harmless exploits were innovative, which should recommend him to the smart economy. There might even be an opening in the green economy for this sort of thing.

My primary issue with the Flynn case is a personal one. Why didn't I get to sample the nosh? I know of one mutual friend who ate at Flynn's table, and he maintains it was as fine a feed as you're likely to get this side of a Michelin-starred restaurant.

Yet, there I was for the last few years, up to my ears with the economy, bank­ers, developers, Nama, and whither an invitation to break bread did I get? If only I had had the opportunity to get stuck into a slice of that pizza, spread a little extra butter, and satisfy my sweet tooth with a few Marrakesh Biscuits.

For a few fleeting hours, the ills of the economy would have been so easily tackled, chilling out, instead of going forward. Contagion could have been temporarily arrested.

The toll of doom would have been replaced by an evening of mellow tunes, the gloom transmogrified into bloom. Like Brian Lenihan, I would have considered everything to be absolutely manageable.

If you're out there, Flynner, I'm seriously offended at the slight. You could have brightened up my life. And imagine what you could have done for your country if you'd invited Ajai Chopra and Olli Rehn around for some cheese and biscuits and a glass of wine?

On a more mundane level, the tribulations of Flynn once again highlight the ludicrous approach to soft drugs in this country. Despite acknowledging that Flynn had no real criminal intent, it was deemed necessary to prosecute him. That meant he had to live with the real prospect of going to prison, should he have encountered a judge with strong opinions on any sort of drug use or cultivation.

For sure, the legalisation of cannabis would present difficulties unless agreed at an EU level. But there would be nothing to stop An Garda Síochána and the DPP dealing with cases such as this through a warning, or at worst, as a summary offence in the district court. There is enough real crime out there to be going on with.

In the context of our current life and times, the case also illustrates the constraints and priorities of the criminal justice apparatus in this country. Cannabis-growing for personal use has shot up over the last few years. The explosion in cultivating the drug is being attributed to the economic downturn. It's cheaper to grow pot than hand over large sums to publicans.

Taking potshots at potheads is child's play for the criminal justice system. The law is clear, and the alleged offenders unlikely to be either resourced or inclined to move legal mountains in order to avoid prosecution. That most of the alleged offenders are otherwise law-abiding citizens, who do no harm to anybody, is not taken into consideration.

It's a different ballgame when dealing with those who bear responsibility for the recession that has prompted more people to grow cannabis. Here, the law is ill-equipped to tackle the moral degradation that has led to havoc being wreaked on large swathes of the population.

Here, the alleged offenders lawyer themselves up to the extent that the law is little more than an obstacle to be negotiated around. Here, in some instances, the state actually colluded in the moral degradation by turning a blind eye to nefarious activity. For these people, the law is designed to ensure that they can get away with almost anything bar actually throwing money into a bag marked 'swag' and taking off at speed.

The capacity and priorities of the criminal justice system appear to be a function of the wider political culture, where the crimes of the élite are either ignored, or classified merely as "inappropriate behaviour".

You would want to be smoking some seriously wicked funny stuff to come up with a system as warped as that. Despite all that, Flynner, I'm still seriously cheesed off.

mclifford@tribune.ie