Low-Profile Drug Dealers in Mexico City: Ethnographic Study

829426
JODXXX10.1177/0022042619829426Journal of Drug IssuesChomczy ski and Guy
research-article2019
Article
Flying Under the Radar: Low-Profile
Drug Dealers in a Mexico City
Neighborhood
Journal of Drug Issues
2019, Vol. 49(2) 308–323
© The Author(s) 2019
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https://doi.org/10.1177/0022042619829426
DOI: 10.1177/0022042619829426
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Piotr A. Chomczyński1 and Roger Guy2
Abstract
This study examines a relatively obscure group who occupy a unique position in the overall
structure of drug distribution: low-level independent dealers. Using ethnographic methods,
fieldwork, and interviews in several Mexico City neighborhoods, we discuss the activities,
strategies, and characteristics of what we designate as low-profile drug dealers. Working as
freelancers, they exploit their community connections to operate relatively autonomously.
They are socialized to function on a subterranean level of narcotrafficking avoiding the attention
of drug trafficking organizations and law enforcement. They manage licit (front businesses) and
illicit (back businesses), and tend to be in their late twenties with past experience in riskier
criminal pursuits. Because their proceeds from the sale of drugs supplement household income,
their activities expand and contract according to financial need.
Keywords
differential drug markets, drug dealing, narcotrafficking, ethnography, Mexico City
Introduction
Drug trafficking is a multifaceted and complex criminal activity that is often analyzed vis-à-vis
transnational drug trafficking organizations (DTOs).1 In the end, however, the final destination
for illicit substances are local communities where street-level dealers play a major role in the
daily activity of distribution (Potter, 2009). Before our research, we assumed that all street-level
dealers were, in some way, the end point of an uninterrupted DTO distribution network. Our aim
was to analyze the social context of street-level drug dealers in Mexico City through direct contact with them in their daily routines. Eventually, our interviews and ethnographic work revealed
a distinctive group that were unlike other small-scale dealers who were under the control of
DTOs, or their local representatives. We chose the term low profile to distinguish this group
because of their modus operandi. We became interested in the characteristics, motives, and techniques for avoiding the attention of cartels. As we discuss below, they are covert, independent,
embedded, and operate with the implicit consent of friends and family.
1University of Lodz, Poland
2State University of New York at Oswego, USA
Corresponding Author:
Roger Guy, Department of Criminal Justice, State University of New York at Oswego, 7060 State Route 104,
Oswego, NY 13126, USA.
Email: [email protected]
Chomczyński and Guy
309
Drug sales occupy a significant portion of the illicit economic activity in the Mexico City
neighborhood that was the setting for this research (Davis, 2013; Hollander, 2004; Martinez,
2005). Our research suggests that social bonds and historical factors sustain the sale of illegal drugs in Tepito. Dealers are also aided by a unique structure of protection that exists
within the community that allows them to carry on their business, and makes it difficult for
law enforcement to dislodge them. The proceeds from illicit drugs are an important supplement to legal sources of household income. Selling drugs is part of daily life, and children
are initially exposed to the trade through primary socialization by parents or kin who are in
the business. Later in adolescence, secondary socialization shapes the entry and participation in drug dealing. Low-profile dealers avoid attracting the attention of DTOs who would
require that they sell greater amounts of the product, and expose them to much more personal
risk. In short, there is a constant tension between earning more money while not becoming
too successful and, therefore, more visible to DTO, or the gangs that they employ.
Gaps in the Literature
Traditional social science literature is replete with work on drug dealing primarily in terms of
deviant activity, an individual deviant lifestyle, or as a neighborhood social pathology (Adler,
1993; Becker, 1953; Bourgois, 2003; Cloward & Ohlin, 1960; Currie, 1993; Venkatesh, 2008;
Williams, 1989). Viewing drug dealing as deviance, or as a social problem, might be influenced
by a dominant sociocultural view in most Western countries, where it involves conceiving of
drug dealing and consuming illicit drugs in moralistic terms. Others hold the position that the
moral condemnation of drug dealing stems from the fact that illicit markets are, by definition,
illegal and, therefore, undermine or otherwise impede the normal functioning of political, legal,
and economic institutions (Priest, 1994).
However, there is also some evidence suggesting that the use and presence of illicit substances
is perceived differently in Latin America than in Western countries such as the United States
(Coomber, 2015; Konecki, Kacperczyk, Chomczyński, & Albarracín, 2013). Therefore, a different cultural reference rooted in the historical presence and use of psychoactive substances has led
to more tolerance of them (Campbell, 2009; Paris, Pérez, & Raquel, 2013; Rodriguez & Martinez,
2012). Therefore, Holmes and Marcus (2005) noted that researchers designing field study in
culturally different backgrounds often unconsciously adopt their “politics of knowledge” in representing and reproducing a dominant standpoint (pp. 521-522). We sought to approach dealing
as integrated into the community fabric in a social, cultural, and occupational sense rather than
as immoral behavior.
The low-profile dealers who we studied were well aware that their activities were illegal, but
considered it simply as a means to generate additional income. Therefore, we approached their
dealing in occupational terms by exploring the daily lives, activities, and socialization of those
involved in it. Our position and findings are consistent with previous research, suggesting that
low-level drug distribution involves small-time dealers who sell their goods primarily to friends
and trusted acquaintances (Belackova & Vaccaro, 2013; Coomber & Turnbull, 2007; Jacques &
Wright, 2008), and that there is great variation in drug markets, and the social milieu of distribution (Coomber, 2015). We also argue that underemployment is a central motivation to enter drug
dealing, in addition to the business having intergenerational ties to family members and significant others (Macit, 2017).
The literature specifically surrounding drug trafficking in Mexico has rarely addressed
local street-level dealers who proffer marijuana, cocaine, or crack to a clientele made up of
trusted friends, or neighborhood residents. Instead, the preponderance of research has centered on the activities of transnational DTOs or threat they post to the United States (Grayson,
2013; A. Hernández & Saviano, 2013; Morris, 2013). One recent work suggests that violence
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characterizes markets when low-level drug dealers work for DTOs over control of the lucrative real estate (city plazas) that local distribution garners (Correa-Cabrera, 2017). However,
we know next to nothing of this clandestine subgroup of low-profile dealers who carry out
their activities without being directly attached to drug cartels or their associates.
Research Setting, Method, and Data
We began our work in 2015 during a postdoctorate scholarship at the Instituto de
Investigaciones Sociales at Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. We continued work
in 2016 using informants, who provide conduct interviews and participant observation on an
ongoing basis. Our data were drawn from countless hours of fieldwork and 89 in-depth interviews with residents from the neighborhoods of Tepito (45), Iztapalapa (24), and Tacubaya
(20) in Mexico City. Of these, 72 were low-profile drug dealers. One of the authors took part
in a 5-day pilgrimage from Mexico City to Chalma (the second most visited destination for
religious pilgrimages after the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe). This was a particularly
important event because it eroded the visibility of the researcher by what Stoddart (1986)
refers to as “display of symbolic attachment” by participating in routine activities of research
participants (pp. 109-113). During this pilgrimage, one of the researchers experienced a
turning point in relation to participants after long-lasting common daily routines (walking,
sleeping, eating, singing religious songs, praying, and talking) that allowed him to record
additional interviewers with community members and low drug dealers. We were also given
access to 11 video-recorded interviews with inmates from a juvenile detention center in
which detainees discussed their criminal biographies. Finally, we participated in official
meetings with social scientists focused on drug trafficking to record interviews (10) and
representatives of nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) investigating corruption, drug
trafficking activities (nine).
Our primary research strategy involved adjusting the interviews to suit the type of participant (expert or drug dealer), situation (safe or unsafe conditions), setting (office, street,
market, or pilgrimage), and interviewee characteristics (open or closed, trustful or distrustful). This meant that the interview structure depended on the general social context of conducting research. For example, the more interviewees trusted our intentions, the more they
were prepared to talk. In addition, we adjusted the interview (open ended or structured) to
the comfort level of the participant to benefit from the flexibility and potential for active
listening (Silverman, 2011). In some cases, we employed structured interviews to gather
specific information from participants. When conducting interviews with drug dealers,
inmates, and members of marginalized communities; we opted for a biographical approach
and avoided specific drug-oriented questions (Fielding, 2007). Typically, we began with
questions about their lives in Tepito, or their reasons for incarceration, for example. By contrast, our questions to specialists (i.e., volunteers working for NGOs, prison guards, researchers, or journalists) centered on DTOs and drug markets in Mexico. All the interviews were
conducted until the moment of theoretical saturation when no additional concepts were
occurring, then transcribed, translated to English, and uploaded to Atlas TI software for
qualitative analysis, coding, and analyzing data (Konopásek, 2008) using the constant comparative method (Babchuk & Hitchcock, 2013; Charmaz, 2006; Glaser & Strauss, 1967). It
was through the constant comparative method useful for modifying or broadening categories
(Silverman, 2011) that we were able to inductively generate a category of low-level dealers
as low profile because of their efforts to remain invisible to representatives of DTOs. Their
dealing, however, is difficult to understand outside of the social and historical contexts of the
neighborhood in which it occurs.
Chomczyński and Guy
311
Tepito: “Are You Buying or Selling?”
As early as the Colonial Period (1521-1829), Tepito has been known for being a densely concentrated open market distinctly different from others in Mexico City. The intricate maze of alleyways are jammed with endless rows of market stalls beneath a multitude of colorful umbrellas
and awnings where throngs of people make their way through the narrow passages amid the
constant shouting of vendors. A 1983 article in a Canadian daily newspaper described the cacophony that assails a visitor to the market.
The streets are alive—you might almost say, at war—with the sound of music. Mariachi melodies
blare from one stall in a head-on contest with the marimba music pumping from the next. Not to
mention the insistent strains of Elvis Presley, Donna Summer and Julio Iglesias, or the rhythmic
competition of deep, male, Mexican voices touting their wares. (Ross, 1983, p. 16)
Intense smells are also as dense as the auditory bombardment. The food stalls and push carts
(often with grills) are a common sight in Mexico City and number in the tens of thousands. In
Tepito, there is the illusion that they are more numerous partly because of the distinctively narrow passages crowded with the kaleidoscope of stalls that local residents like Raul acknowledge
are difficult to negotiate, especially for those unfamiliar with the neighborhood.
It’s very difficult to recognize where are you going because it’s almost impossible to identify the
name of a street. If you are not from the neighborhood it’s almost impossible to find your way
through the passages to a specific house to go to.
The clustering of products is possible because the market appears to outsiders as a dense labyrinth of colorful umbrellas, stalls situated on narrow alleys and streets, which act as a multilevel
protective camouflage for illicit trade.
Historically, nicknamed “el barrio bravo” (the brave neighborhood) for its rough reputation,
Tepito was a port of entry for urban migrants attracted by the opportunity for work. Poverty has
characterized the neighborhood since its inception, and it has the noteworthy distinction of being
the site of Oscar Lewis’ The Children of Sanchez. It is also the last of the so-called “horseshoe
slums” that once surrounded central Mexico City characterized by the “casa de vecindad,” an
equivalent to densely populated tenements, and a natural setting for the formation of the open-air
market (tianguis) of today (Hernández & Roush, 2008). That Tepito is a well-known hub of market activity is illustrated in the quote in the above from a Mexican cashier in the United States
when we asked about Tepito. Over time, the neighborhood has evolved into one of Mexico City’s
most well-known outlets for fayuca (contraband) that involves anything from pirated CDs and
DVDs, fake designer products, and firearms, but especially illicit drugs (Davis, 2013). Vendors
are geographically concentrated and specialized in the type of merchandise (e.g., drugs) or service (e.g., prostitution) that they offer. One informant, Raul noted that,
For example, in Tenochtitlan, Jesús Carranza and Aztecas [streets] there are many drug selling points.
They have all sorts of front [legal] businesses but their main income comes from drug dealing.
Through the years, I have seen entire neighborhoods dedicated to this type of business.
There is probably nothing that one could not purchase in Tepito with the right connections and
adequate funds. One informant, Raul went on to estimate that, “I cannot say for sure but I think
probably 80 percent of Tepito’s [business] is illegal or related to illegal things.” In addition, secondary sources confirm that the illicit market occupies a significant part of economic activity in
Tepito (Davis, 2013; Hollander, 2004; Martinez, 2005). As mentioned, illegal vendors benefit
from a complex neighborhood infrastructure that minimizes the risk of apprehension, facilitates
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escape, and notice by strangers. Tepito has also become progressively violent in the past decade
because of two interrelated factors: (a) greater aggressiveness among the drug cartels for territorial control and (b) the government’s attempt to recover the territories controlled by cartels
(Pereyra, 2012; Veiras & Inzunza, 2018). Much of intercartel violence stems from the destabilization of single cartels that controlled large areas, what Rios (2013) referred to as an “oligopolistic” to a “competitive” situation, when a number of cartels vie for control of territories necessitating
the intervention from the military, which has further fragmented and intensified the violence,
leading cartels to form their own militias for protection (Trejo & Ley, 2018).
For the reasons outlined above, Tepito is dangerous and unhospitable to researchers. In
such settings, it is essential to be assisted by an insider who is familiar to residents, and knows
the neighborhood. Through a number of initial inquiries, we met Miguel (a pseudonym), an
indigenous and respected member of the neighborhood who has extensive contact with streetlevel dealers. We discussed our interest in the local drug trade, and assured him that our
research would pose no harm or threat to those involved in this activity. After considerable
persuasion, he agreed to assist us in the field by introducing us to the dealers who we interviewed. Without his assistance, we would not been able to complete our research. He explained
the functioning of the formal and informal networks in Tepito, Iztapalapa, and Tacubaya, and
secured entry and interviews by using his personal contacts with people who otherwise remain
invisible. Such snowballing is a common and useful technique for ethnographers to obtain
participants in research settings that may be closed to outsiders (Berg, 2007; Giampietro &
Molle, 2017). Research also suggests that such an intermediator is essential in such a hostile
environment to gain entry and establish trust in the community (Chomczyński, 2018; Fielding,
2007; Jenkins, 2015). Miguel also triangulated observations, provided extensive field notes
after forays in the field, and delivered additional information when we faced ambiguity, or a
lack of data during our analysis.
Low-Level Dealers and the Household Economy in Mexico City
A prominent mural in Tepito photographed by one of the authors reads, A Dios le debo la vida a
Tepito la comida, translated as “I owe my life to God and food to Tepito,” refers to the primacy
of community for individual survival. In this article, we argue street-level drug dealing is an
important activity that generates additional household income for unanticipated costs such as the
purchase of a dress for a quinceañera (a 15th birthday celebrating a girl’s coming of age) or help
a relative in financial straits. Miguel summed up the context of work for low-profile drug dealers
and the importance of Tepito as a drug market.
They [low-profile drug dealers] have a “front business” that acts as an alibi for their income, making
the economy of the neighborhood more diverse and complex. They deal with a diverse variety of
substances, (mainly marihuana, cocaine, ecstasy and other recreational drugs). Tepito acts as an
important distribution center, and all around Mexico City there are small points where the drugs are
sold in retail.
Those engaged in the back business of drug dealing are responding to an economy that fails to
adequately provide opportunities in the legitimate sector of work. Illicit drug sales offer an alternative family survival strategy, that can expand or contract based on need or risk. Miguel made
this clear in the following observations about low-profile drug dealers:
Most of the guys selling drugs came from families with a long tradition in commerce or craftsmanship;
work that prepares most of them for the illegal trade and business. Many of these guys would rather
work in legal jobs if they had the opportunity to obtain decent salaries to support the needs of their
Chomczyński and Guy
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families. This is a tendency that I have seen in many corners of our country [Mexico] both rural and
urban environments and its impact in Tepito. It is an everyday reality.
Miguel’s comments allude to the ties to legitimate sales of products for which Tepito is historically known. The presence of vendors unable to support themselves with licit sales of
merchandise also possess the skills to transition into the underground economy. That economic disadvantage underlies drug selling is consistent with previous and recent research on
drug dealing as a source of supplemental income, or entrepreneurial activity (Hagedorn,
1994; Jankowski, 1991; MacCoun & Reuter, 1992; Macit, 2017; Sandberg & Pedersen, 2009;
Venkatesh, 2006).
Keeping a Low Profile: A Matter of Survival
Sanchez is one of the low-profile drug dealers who we interviewed in the course of our research.
He shares many of the characteristics with his colleagues. Like others in the trade, he adjusts his
dealing to the economic needs of the household. Sanchez began his criminal pursuits by stealing
jewelry and watches in the upscale Mexico City neighborhood of Polanco. After the birth of his
daughter, he switched to selling drugs by using proceeds from fencing his loot to purchase a sufficient quantity of cocaine. Dealing, independently, was also a less risky pursuit compared with
robbery. He was able to make this transition because of his extensive contacts in Tepito from the
business selling watches operated by his grandfather and mother. Therefore, it was logical that
his front business be the same as his family’s métier. As all the low-profile dealers who we studied, drug dealing is enmeshed in their lives in the community, and inseparable from their other
commercial activities.
Operating out of a small market stall, Sanchez sells watches as a legitimate front business; he
also peddles small amounts of cocaine, and marijuana to help support his wife, daughter, and
relatives. He tries to keep both activities separate, although he is not always successful. Other
dealers have similar challenges. Interviewed in Reclusorio Norte Prison, Ramón discussed the
duality of managing his dealing, family life, and legitimate source of income:
I used to work, I sold newspapers on the street, that was my job. And the other business [selling
drugs] was an aside, but I kept on working, I had another kind of life. In my house was a lifestyle,
and in the streets was another lifestyle, you understand me?
However, for all low-profile drug dealers, the proceeds from drug sales are no different from
income derived from legal sources, in that, it is used for the household economy.
Like his colleagues, Sanchez uses his connections in the community to sell to friends and
trusted clients. Another low-profile dealer, Roberto echoed this. He only sells to people he knows
or those recommended by friends. After witnessing a sale, we inquired whether he would sell to
anyone who approached him, he shook his head and said,
No, you see, because he [the client] was recommended from people I already knew for a long time, I
sold to him. If they [buyers] aren’t recommended by somebody, and they arrived asking me to sell
them, I would say: “No my friend, I don’t sell anything, I’m just here fixing my garden or walking
my dog.” My friend was the one that introduced me to them. Dealers in Tepito are very distrustful
and they don’t sell to anyone they don’t know, unless someone else introduce you.
Like his counterparts in the trade, Sanchez obtains his product indirectly through intermediaries, thereby avoiding direct contact with DTOs. When asked whether he purchased his supply
from a cartel, Roberto stated, “No, the truth is, I only get my product from guys from Tepito and,
middlemen, only intermediaries.” When pressed to answer, Sanchez admitted that his cocaine
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may originate from mules who smuggle it inside their body on planes, or larger shipments from
the Caribbean. Because it is more profitable, he often boils the powdered cocaine with baking
soda to make crack, a more potent form of the drug. For Sanchez, making crack is also necessary,
at times, when the cocaine is smuggled inside the body because the capsules acquire the stench
of human bowels.
I’ve seen that my friends buy the cocaine that’s available at the time, making the most of it by
different means of transport. It could come from mules, by air or sea. They cook the cocaine to
produce crack. There are also a lot of products that can be added in this process to extend the profit.
His marijuana varies in strength, but comes primarily from suppliers in Sinaloa. Like Roberto, he
obtains his products from intermediaries. In this way, he avoids being under their control of a
cartel, and is forced into a “contract” to sell greater amounts, exposing him to the danger of the
intense competition for drug selling points and violence that comes along with it. Roberto recalled
the fate of a friend who disappeared while working for a cartel.
Researcher: Why did you decide not to work directly with the cartels?
Roberto: Well because, they mentioned that working for a cartel means never seeing your family again. You can’t get out, they [others] have told me, because of fear.
Researcher: And, how does it go, if you know some cases of people that worked directly with
the cartels, how did it go for them?
Roberto: Well the truth is my friend worked for a cartel with the guys from Tepito, and the day
least expected he never returned to his home, they never found him.
Researcher: He worked directly with the ones from Tepito? And who eliminated him?
Roberto: No, well the truth is I couldn’t tell. Suddenly his wife called me asking me if I had
seen him, if he was with me. I told her he wasn’t with me, and I hadn’t seen him in several
days.
Rodolfo, a dealer who worked for a cartel, illustrated the competition and unpredictable risk
involved in vying for locations to sell their product.
Competition for locations to deal drugs is constant. Cartels pay government officials for protection to
sell drugs in certain locations. We have to send all of our money from drug sales to the cartel. My
boss was killed by members of the same gang that I worked for. If the money collected is not in line
with the expectations of the head of the cartel he sends representatives to investigate. These
representatives who observe clandestinely and if they discover that they are skimming money, they
execute them. This is also why that lower level bosses are continually searching for methods to
conceal earning from the upper echelon of the cartel.
Again, Ramón discussed the difference of being an independent dealer and working for a cartel.
The difference [of working for a cartel] is if you have a cartel everything is violence. I have seen, I
lived in these moments, now I see it on television. They pay poorly, you understand me . . . there is
very little money. You have to enter the violence they live in, because in the end, they are like a
family. The same company, you understand me. If they have problems, you have problems.
Cartel control over street-level dealers not only yields income but also provides information for
local enforcers for a DTO (Durán, 2015). Therefore, there is a legitimate reason for any dealer to
avoid working for a cartel by remaining out of sight, and operating under the radar so to speak.
Chomczyński and Guy
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One manner of avoiding attention is by selling to trusted clients, and by not attracting attention
by being too successful.
Apart from the danger and risk, Sanchez also felt that working for a DTO would place other
constraints on him, “I don’t want to be forced to sell in the plaza out of small box [market stall]
twelve hours a day, every day,” he commented referring to why he maintains a low profile in his
drug selling. Juan, a low-profile dealer whose front business is tee shirts, stated the cardinal rule
to avoid being under the thumb of a DTO: “The unwritten rule is that you can supplement your
home budget with small amounts of drug dealing, but your total budget cannot be based on drug
dealing.”
Socialization and Low-Profile Drug Dealers
Through our research, we found that socialization is useful in understanding how low-profile
dealers learn the behavior, motives, and justification from those in whom they have most direct
and intense contact. Within this socialization framework, family and peers are the source and
influence over attitudes, beliefs, values, and behavior (Oetting, Deffenbacher, & Donnermeyer,
1998; Pettigrew, Shin, Stein, & Van Raalte, 2017). Socialization also places emphasis on the role
of the social environment in furthering decisions concerning deviant behavior (Duck, 2014), and
peers who “transmit the norms for deviant behavior” (Higgins, Ricketts, Marcum, & Mahoney,
2010, p. 133; Wiatrowski, 1978). Explaining how low-profile drug dealers are socialized into
work meant observing their daily routine, taking part in countless informal discussions, and carrying out interviews. Socialization provided the explanatory lens through which dealers internalize their perception of drugs, how they recognize their business partners, and conceptualize risk.
It is also helpful to incorporate Sutherland’s (1947) theory of differential association in understanding the extent and process of socialization of the low-level drug dealers interviewed for this
research. He argued that universal sets of social conditions precede entry into criminal activity.
The outcome of socialization leads to an excess of definitions favorable to the violation of law
over definitions unfavorable to the violation of law mediated by the frequency, priority, duration,
and intensity of contact (Matseuda, 1988; Sutherland, 1947). In the case of low-level drug dealers, socialization with intimate groups provided them with the techniques and skills for their
work, as well as the rationale and justification for doing so.
Primary Socialization
Primary socialization is both the first and key component that shapes a child’s perspective on
illicit drug dealing even if they are not fully conscious of it. In families, children incorporate the
notion that drug dealing is a normal activity that generates profit (Higgins et al., 2010; McCord,
1991). The extent to which children are socialized at an early age became clear to us when
observing the packaging of cocaine in a safe house of a low-profile drug dealer. The field notes
below reveal that primary socialization and commonly shared definition of the role of drugs in
community life have its roots in early childhood.
On one occasion, I was carrying out interviews with drug traffickers in a safe house where cocaine
was being divided into smaller portions for sale. In the same room were young children, and their
mothers along with a number of dealers working. The situation appeared odd to me. Under the
desk where adults with masks were working packaging the cocaine, children as young as six or
eight months old were playing while a powdered cocaine “fog” was descending in their midst.
When some women present would take the babies away, they would crawl back on all fours back
to the same area.
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Journal of Drug Issues 49(2)
Although clearly dangerous to their health, it is also apparent from the passage above that very
young children were being exposed to the presence of drugs, and other illicit substances, taking
them or/and selling as normal mundane behavior—Sutherland’s (1947) excess of definitions
favorable to the violation of law.
At the time of his interview, Manuel was in a juvenile detention facility for drug dealing. He
became interested in selling drugs as a normal means to earn money from his mother who began
using and selling as early as he could remember.
My mother was almost always on the streets because she drank heavily and used and sold drugs. She
also spent some time in prison. I was delayed in starting primary school she [his mother] lost my birth
certificate. Although I lived with my father and two brothers for a while, I left his home to go live
with friends because I started to like to get drugs, stealing and wandering the streets. It was natural
for me to sell drugs
Another juvenile in detention, Ricardo, studied until the first year of secondary school and
stopped at 13 years because school officials expelled him for selling drugs to his classmates.
Since then, he sold drugs and gave the extra money to his father to help him support his
brothers.
For these children, drug dealing is an activity that is taken for granted (Garfinkel, 1967;
Schütz, 1953) and acceptable, by observing their parents (fathers especially), friends, acquaintances, and neighbors who are engaged in it. The opportunity to personally observe several dealers packaging a product in this manner occurred only once in the course our work. However,
through the banality of the actors, we deduced that this was a routine activity, and that no precautions were taken to shield children from it. We, therefore, concluded that it was normal for children to be present and spend time nearby. The normalcy of being in the drug trade is accomplished
through years of primary socialization that eventually results in youth assuming a more active
role in it later in life.
Secondary Socialization
Secondary socialization tends to reinforce family and environment influences that are established
at an early age during primary socialization, which, in this case, shapes attitudes toward drug
dealing as common and almost inherited from those around you (Mortimer & Simmons, 1978).
In effect, secondary socialization transforms drug dealing from being solely an observed phenomenon to a professional activity while inculcating proper relations with business partners (e.g.,
suppliers, colleagues, and clients). Family members who are involved in the trade also facilitate
secondary socialization. Another low-profile dealer, Jorge, stated that “my father and brothers
were dealing, and me too.” In her recent study in Turkey, Macit (2017) found support for intergenerational ties to drug market participation. Ricardo, a dealer awaiting trial who was interviewed for this study, discussed his early socialization by peers and older adults.
I was part of a group. There were other male adults who taught us what to do. I knew them since I
was a kid. When I was 12 years old, I bought a gun and killed someone. It was a group that was
selling drugs and weapons. They pointed out businessmen or deputies to kidnap them or told us to
kill them.
The socialization experienced by Jorge and Ricardo occurred in the context of intimate groups
who imparted the means, justification, and rationalization for their behavior. In informal discussions, low-profile dealers revealed that their entry began by observing those more experienced at
the trade through learning and imitation (Akers, Krohn, Lanza-Kaduce, & Radosevich, 1979;
Tarde, 1962).
Chomczyński and Guy
317
When discussing the low-profile drug dealers in Tepito, Miguel explained that criminal solutions involving kin follow from economic conditions.
Many of the dealers have worked since teenagers as a crew supporting each other in different
situations. Money isolates people and even in their problems it’s the first and most important element
for resolving any situation When you don’t have this resource you have to be closer with your kin
trying to support each other throughout the problems of life. This gives them a different way of
thinking and relating with their environment a different set of tools to transform their reality.
The manner in which these dealers respond to the environment (e.g., poverty) dictates the adaptation: drug dealing. Secondary socialization provides the outlook and rationalization for the illicit
economic activity and income that drug dealing provides.
Secondary socialization also prepares low-profile dealers to negotiate their business environment. Because they are independent freelancers compared with being obliged to work for DTOs,
they must be more cognizant of the police because no organized group protects them. We
observed two basic ways of dealing with the police: bribes or avoidance. Bribery involves developing their own relations with law enforcement officers on a local street level, which is very
common in Mexico. It is well known that police corruption (especially on the local level) involves
acts of bribery in the “everyday interactions with citizens whereby police officers use their power
to obtain money” (Chêne, 2010, p. 2). Although it is not difficult to secure police protection, lowprofile dealers do not possess the extra cash to do this. Therefore, they do what most citizens do:
Stay away from the police. Avoidance is a strategy based on a deep distrust of all law enforcement because of the rampant police corruption where the “honest performance of one’s nominal
duty is treated as deviant behavior” (Botello & Rivera, 2000, p. 61). Citizens and dealers alike
are also aware that, in most cases, when apprehended, they are likely to be tortured and mistreated (Azaola, 2009, 2015). When asked about being arrested, Manuel (juvenile awaiting trail)
recalled that, “when the police detained me, they beat me and gave me electric shocks to my
testicles to make me confess.” This is why dealers and the public prefer to avoid contact with the
police at all costs.
Research suggests that trust between dealers and clients is an essential component of the illicit
drug market (Chalmers & Bradford, 2013). Also through socialization, drug dealers learn that
trust not only minimizes the chance that sellers will take advantage of buyers but also ensures
that they operate in a climate of protection by selling mainly to known clients (Denton, 2001;
Mieczkowski, 1994; Potter, 2010; Werse, 2008). Despite the precautions of selling to trusted
clients and friends, there is always inherent risk in dealing, or missteps that may expose a dealer
to danger. During secondary socialization, low-profile drug dealers learn and develop their own
skills in “business communication” with their clients. In spite of the relatively low danger
involved in their work, risk is an ever-present reality. In addition, because their transactions are
not protected by armed associates like those affiliated with cartels, low-profile dealers must be
able to respond to being ripped off in the course of a sale. Secondary socialization prepares dealers to assume that any relationship with a buyer carries inherent risk of having their product
stolen, or a situation gone awry. The precarious nature of dealing, and the possibility of violence
that could ensue is evidenced in an example reflected in field notes:
While interviewing a group of low-profile drug dealers several broke off to conduct a deal. Shortly
thereafter, I noticed that they had begun to argue with the client. They then took out knives and
chased him down. They cut him on his back, thighs, buttocks, and arms, and let him to run away.
They re-joined us while wiping the knives on their clothing to clean the blood off. They explained to
me that when they were ready to close the deal, the client reneged on the price which they interpreted
as mistrusting them. They cut him to simply teach him a lesson.
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Journal of Drug Issues 49(2)
Apart from the possibility of danger inherent in the sale of illicit drugs, the example above illustrates a practical lesson in the process of secondary socialization. Overall, however, spontaneous
violence does characterize sales carried out by low-profile drug dealers because they operate
through networks of friends on the basis of trust. The main point here is that socialization prepares dealers to handle unpredictable circumstances.
Social Bonds, Trust, and the “Planned Scenario”
Low-profile dealers in Tepito have deep roots in the neighborhood in which they do business.
Their social and familial networks overlap with their daily activities. As mentioned, one advantage of this is that their close connections with the community allow them to carry out business
in relative safety. They know their clients by way of personal friendship, family members, or
recommendations from other buyers. This also minimizes the possibility of snitches going to the
police. Sanchez emphasized this while sitting in his “office” in the market. “The [low-profile]
dealers know everyone and everyone knows them, and that’s how it works. We all have friends
or family members that benefit from our profits.” After considerable contacts with a number of
low-profile dealers, we received permission by Sanchez to visit a safe house, where a number of
trusted clients purchased drugs, or other dealers congregated to sell. One of the author’s field
notes reveals the casual nature of interaction among the dealers and their associates, no doubt
because of the amount of trust they shared.
We arrived at the drug-selling point; a normal house with six young men who looked to be in their
twenties men working mainly with cocaine and marijuana. Some were dealing, some were not. There
were scales, plastic bags and a lot of cash inside this place. A man was resting on a sofa and looked
as if he had a terrible hangover. One skinny guy was controlling the door: watching who was going
in and out the room. At least ten people entered this place throughout our interviews (three women)
buying crack and cocaine distributed from the corner of the house by one of the men present.
Everybody knew each other.
The safe house lacked the implicit competition that characterizes drug markets or selling points
that are fertile ground for DTO violence. The relative relaxed atmosphere prevalent in this distribution point distinguishes the method and means by which the low-profile dealer functions and
bonds with others in the neighborhood.
In spite of the trust and stability of dealing with people who they know, they are also prepared
through socialization process that it is nearly inevitable that they will be apprehended at some
point. The social bonds that low-profile drug dealers have in the community, however, are important in sustaining them while imprisoned, an inevitable part of their consciousness of a shared
criminal trajectory their social bonds inherit (Higgins et al., 2010). Our interviews in correctional
facilities revealed that incarceration is part of a planned scenario that low-profile dealers are
prepared for mentally. Secondary socialization provides the protocols for adjustment to temporary stints in prison, in addition to offering psychological support from those on the outside.
Miguel highlighted that importance of community support while incarcerated.
They have to rely on the community because it is the only way they can survive inside the facilities.
The terrible conditions, corruption, and extortion that reins in reclusorios [prisons] leave them in a
very vulnerable position, and only with the help of their family or their friends they can purge their
time successfully having enough money, food, or clothes to survive their sentence.
While incarcerated, inmates also rely on familiar rituals in the community such as a religious
pilgrimage that they regularly participate in to cope with being separated from family and associates. Miguel evidenced that “they go in the pilgrimage in their minds even when they are
Chomczyński and Guy
319
incarcerated. They follow the procession that they have been on previously. ‘They must be there
by now,’” noting how recalling the path along the way was a means to escape the reality of prison
life. There are other ways that families sustain themselves, as well as support loved ones who are
incarcerated. During a religious pilgrimage, a son symbolically took his father along by strapping
a framed photo of him to his back, for example. These rituals and strong connection to the community also allows inmates a smooth transition into the community once being released. The
intergenerational shared collective trajectory of incarceration also means that imprisonment carries no overt condemnation or shame for those temporarily removed from the community. In
addition, strong ties to family and friends mean that, on release, they are also able to resume their
businesses smoothly without experiencing a gap in their personal biographies, characteristic of
those who normally spend time in prison in countries such as the United States.
Discussion
Whereas much of the research on DTOs tends to center on their roles and position in the transnational distribution of drugs, our research highlights a seldom-discussed and essential component
of drug trafficking in Mexico City—the low-profile drug dealer whose clientele are trusted neighborhood residents. These freelance dealers are an essential link between the large and amorphous
DTOs, local consumers of illicit drugs. Our findings indicate that low-profile drug dealers are a
distinct group that are different from those working for DTOs. Low profile are risk-aversive dealers characterized by ability to remain invisible to protect their independence, and avoid the danger of working for a cartel. Our evidence supports previous research, which suggests that lower
level drug distribution does not necessarily involve the threat of violence, and that small-time
dealers sell their goods primarily to friends and acquaintances (Belackova & Vaccaro, 2013;
Coomber & Turnbull, 2007; Jacques & Wright, 2008).
Our research suggests that children are socialized to the normalcy of drug dealing at an early
age through the frequency and duration of contact of those around them, particularly significant
others. The drug dealers who we interviewed incorporated their children into their activities as
infants by allowing them to observe their activities in protected environments such as drug-safe
houses, blurring the distinction between licit and illicit business. This primary socialization is
reinforced later in adolescence through more active and conscious participation under the tutelage of older and trusted significant others, or family members. This is consistent with recent
research establishing intergenerational ties to drug trafficking in Turkey (Macit, 2017).
In addition, we argue that economic necessity and custom give way to drug dealing as a viable
means to supplement family income that is a flexible and able to expand and contract according
to the gap in earnings. As such, a dealer can adjust his or her sales activities to seasonal shortfalls
in household income, or the necessity to cut back in light of police crackdowns, for example.
Because this informal work is necessary for family survival, and contributes to the local economy, low-profile dealers enjoy protection and tacit acceptance from other family members and
the community at large. Therefore, drug markets are not simply an expression of supply and
demand (Ruggerio & South, 1995), but are also part of daily social relations among neighborhood residents, and important to the local economy.
Finally, our findings suggest that the presence of social bonds supports and facilitates the
work of low-profile drug dealers in Tepito. The strong bond to the community and social bonds
to friends and family members provide the emotional support while incarcerated, as well as the
ability to resume their illicit business when they are released from prison.
Authors’ Note
Portions of this study involving human participants was approved by the University of Lodz, the Universidad
Nacional Autónoma de México, the EURICA Mobility Program.
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Journal of Drug Issues 49(2)
Acknowledgments
We also benefited from a generous relationship with members of El Comisión de Derechos Humanos del
Distrito Federal who facilitated informal unstructured interviews with inmates in juvenile detention centers
(males: San Fernando, Centro Especializado para Adolescentes Alfonso Quiroz Cuarón; females:
Comunidad de Mujeres) and prisons in Mexico (Reclusorio Norte, and El Centro Federal de Readaptación
Social [Cefereso] número 13, CPS “OAXACA”). This research benefited from a number of persons and
institutions. Elena Aozola, PhD, senior investigator at the Centre for Advanced Studies and Research in
Social Anthropology in Mexico City; Rodrigo Cortina Cortés, independent researcher in Mexico City; Tim
Clark, PhD, a former intelligence planner at Joint Task Force North, a U.S. Department of Defense unit;
EURICA Mobility Program financed by European Union, Instituto de Investigaciones Sociales at
Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México; and members of El Comisión de Derechos Humanos del
Distrito Federal.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or
publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Note
1.
We make no distinction between drug cartels and drug trafficking organizations (DTOs). Although
academic literature of late tends to employ the term DTO, our participants referred to them as
cartels.
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Author Biographies
Piotr A. Chomczyński, PhD, is an associate professor in the Department, Faculty of Economics and
Sociology at the University of Lodz, Poland. For the last 7 years, he carried out ethnographic work in detention centers in Poland. He has published in the areas of juvenile justice, sociology of deviance, and qualitative methodology.
Roger Guy, PhD, is a professor in the Department of Criminal Justice at the State University of New York
at Oswego. His work has appeared in the Journal of Contemporary Criminal Justice, Journal of Applied
Social Science, Victims and Offenders, and Federal Probation.