The 2026 Map

The Hemp Bill That Would Make the Kid the Offender

If you are 19 and there is a bottle of CBD oil in your backpack, a bill in Congress right now would make you a federal offender.

If you are 19 and there is a bottle of CBD oil in your backpack, a bill in Congress right now would make you a federal offender. Not the store that sold it to you. You. And the oil does not have to be the kind that gets anyone high.

That rule sits quietly inside H.R. 9830, the Lawful Hemp Protection Act, filed July 22, 2026 by Representative Andy Barr (R-Ky.), with Representative Angie Craig (D-Minn.) as cosponsor. Coverage has framed it as the bill that saves hemp (Marijuana Moment, Cannabis Business Times), and there is truth in that. It would repeal the November 12 cliff, the already-enacted law (P.L. 119-37) that makes most consumable hemp THC products Schedule I this fall. One sentence repeals it, and a whole regulatory system takes its place.

We read the entire bill page by page, six times, then checked our read word for word against the official filed text. We flagged 56 issues. This brief is not that full review. It is one provision, up close. The rest of the list will get its own briefs.

So you can see the whole animal before we zoom in, here is what the bill does, in short:

1. Repeals the November 12 hemp cliff. (bill text)
2. Redefines hemp at 1 percent total THC including THCA. That saves farmers whose CBD and fiber crops fail today's tests, and it ends the intoxicating "THCA flower" market. Coverage of the change caught only the first half. (bill text)
3. Handles converted cannabinoids like delta-8 less clearly than the coverage says. That one needs its own brief. (bill text)
4. Declares hemp products are not drugs and are legally "food," vapes and skin patches included, then forbids the new supplement lane from making any wellness claim. (bill text)
5. Walls out imports: every step, farm to label, must happen in the United States. (bill text)
6. Caps edibles at 5 mg THC per serving by default but lets a vape serving carry 50 mg. Much of today's edible market would become unlawful overnight. (bill text)
7. Requires a federal Treasury permit to make or wholesale hemp products, with criminal penalties behind it, plus three separate taxes, including 5 percent of everything a manufacturer takes in. (bill text)
8. Pushes hemp drinks into an alcohol-style three-tier system and tells states to regulate hemp the way they regulate alcohol. (bill text)
9. Guarantees product testing only on the finished product, not at the farm and not in between. (bill text)
10. Pressures states into a hemp DUI system built on an officer's field sobriety judgment, by withholding 10 percent of their federal highway money. (bill text)
11. Opens a wider door into Medicare than its caption admits. (bill text)
12. And it creates new under-21 offenses. That is today's brief. (bill text)

The sentence

Section 4(b) of the bill adds new entries to the federal food and drug law's list of "prohibited acts" (21 U.S.C. 331). A prohibited act is exactly what it sounds like: a list of things it is a federal offense to do. Here is the one this brief is about, paragraph (kkk), word for word:

"(kkk)(1) The sale of a hemp-derived cannabinoid product to any person younger than 21 years of age. (2) The possession or consumption of a hemp-derived cannabinoid product by any person younger than 21 years of age."

Part (1) bars selling to anyone under 21. That is familiar ground. Federal tobacco law works the same way (21 U.S.C. 387f(d)(5)): the store commits the violation, not the customer. We have no quarrel with an age line at the register. Our own hemp principles call for one.

Part (2) is different. It makes the young person's own possession, or consumption, the federal violation. Not the seller. The 19-year-old. The 16-year-old.

Stay with that for three short paragraphs, because each one is checked against the text.

It reaches products that cannot intoxicate anyone. The offense covers any "hemp-derived cannabinoid product," and that defined term includes plain CBD. A 19-year-old veteran with a CBD tincture commits a federal prohibited act under this bill. So does a 16-year-old with epilepsy whose parents give her CBD oil. We searched the whole bill for a medical exception, a therapeutic exception, or a parental-supervision exception. There is none.

Some states do protect young patients through their own medical registries. Georgia's low-THC program is one; it gives caregiver cards to parents of children with seizure disorders. But those are state shields against state charges, and nothing in this bill honors them: its state-authority section preserves only state rules that are stricter than, or as protective as, the federal floor.

No act of Congress has done this before. There is no nationwide federal statute making it an offense for a minor to possess alcohol. The federal drinking-age law (23 U.S.C. 158) pressures states to set their own 21 rule by holding back highway money, and that is all it does. The closest thing on the books is a National Park Service regulation (36 CFR 2.35) barring underage possession on park land, and even that one defers to state law. Federal tobacco law stops at the retailer (21 U.S.C. 387f(d)(5)) and never reaches the buyer. So a bill built on the alcohol model would write into nationwide statute a crime that federal alcohol law has never had.

And the penalty is heavier than the books make it look. The bill never states a punishment for the under-21 offense. It does not have to, because the food and drug law has a default penalty section, 21 U.S.C. 333, and this bill never touches it. We searched: the bill does not mention that section once. So the default applies: up to one year in prison for any violation. The $1,000 fine printed in that old section is a dead letter, because a newer law, 18 U.S.C. 3571, raises the ceiling for this class of misdemeanor to $100,000 unless the older law specifically opts out. It does not. A second violation after a conviction rises to a maximum of three years, and three years makes it a felony under 18 U.S.C. 3559, with a fine ceiling of $250,000. To be plain about our method: that chain is our reading of the bill against the law as it stands today, and we label it that way because the bill itself is silent.

Now two honest things, and we will say them every time we write about this provision. Courts have historically not required proof of bad intent for this kind of federal misdemeanor (United States v. Dotterweich, United States v. Park), but both of those cases were about businesspeople moving products, not a person holding one, and no court has tested whether that rule reaches a kid with a gummy. And in practice, this law gets enforced mainly with product seizures and court orders against companies; that is our assessment from the FDA's own enforcement playbook (the Regulatory Procedures Manual). Federal prosecutions of individual consumers would be rare. We are not predicting teenagers in federal courtrooms. We are telling you what the law would allow, permanently, in a bill whose opening findings talk about protecting children.

And one more piece of honesty, because the full picture matters. This bill is not creating criminal exposure out of a clean sky. If Congress does nothing, the November 12 cliff arrives, and on the face of the law, possessing a hemp product with more than 0.4 milligrams of total THC per container (P.L. 119-37, Section 781) is set to become a federal drug offense for a person of any age under the Controlled Substances Act (21 U.S.C. 844): up to a year, with a minimum $1,000 fine. So for those products, this bill would trade an everyone-offense for an under-21 offense, and note the direction of the trade: the drug offense at least requires knowing possession, while paragraph (kkk)(2) states no intent requirement at all. What about the states? Some already run their own under-21 hemp rules, and they show what a lighter touch looks like. Tennessee makes under-21 possession of intoxicating hemp products a misdemeanor, but it wrote plain CBD out of the offense on purpose. Louisiana, the one state we found whose possession rule does cover CBD, caps the whole thing at a $100 ticket that by law stays off your record. Three of the six states we checked put every penalty on the store, not the kid. A fourth, Virginia, reaches the young person only for smokable hemp and only to take the product away; its statute makes seizure the sole penalty. So here is what this bill adds that nothing on the books today does: one offense covering all fifty states, carrying federal criminal exposure, reaching even the zero-THC products the cliff leaves legal under federal law, with no version of Tennessee's CBD carve-out and no version of Louisiana's keep-it-off-the-record rule. And for anyone under 18, whom federal law defines as a juvenile (18 U.S.C. 5031), the Federal Juvenile Delinquency Act routes cases to state courts unless the Attorney General certifies specific findings, so the real federal exposure lands on people 18 to 20, who are adults in federal court, though the prohibited act itself applies at any age under 21.

That gap, between the story a bill tells and the machinery it builds, is the thing we teach readers to spot. The findings protect the child. The text makes the child the offender, including the pediatric epilepsy patients whose stories built the hemp CBD movement in the first place. And Congress knows other ways. When it put tobacco under this same law in 2009, it added a civil fine route, up to $15,000 per violation (21 U.S.C. 333(f)(9)), so a tobacco case can be handled with a fine instead of a charge. And this very bill, in its tax chapter, writes an offense that requires "intent to defraud the United States." The bill uses an intent requirement elsewhere. Paragraph (kkk)(2) has none, and it sits on the criminal default.

Who pays for the lawyer

A new offense for people under 21 raises a plain question: when a 17-year-old is charged, who pays for the defense? Congress already answered that in this year's budget, months before this bill was filed. The federal juvenile justice account in P.L. 119-74 is $375,000,000. Here is the whole account.

The line for making sure a child in court has a competent lawyer reads, in the law's own words, "$2,000,000 for a program to improve juvenile indigent defense." Two million dollars, nationwide. It is the smallest line in the account, 0.53 percent of it. The help line for youth struggling with substances is $10,500,000. Now set those beside the enforcement lines in the same law.

Drug courts get $86,000,000, which is 43 times the lawyer line. The DEA's salaries and expenses get $2,580,340,000, roughly 1,290 times. To be fair: these are this year's enacted numbers, not money the bill moves, and every line in that account does real work. The point is proportion, and what this bill would add to it. H.R. 9830 creates a new federal offense for young people in a year when the one budget line for defending them in court is two million dollars. The bill adds the offense. It does not add a single defense dollar.

The fix is simple

Strike part (2). Keep part (1). The age line at the register survives, the ban on marketing to children survives, and enforcement lands where every comparable federal law puts it: on the business, not the kid.

For any congressional office looking at this in markup, both precedents are Congress's own. The civil route already exists in the same statute, built for tobacco in 2009. The intent requirement already exists in this very bill, in its tax chapter. So the question for the sponsors is narrow and fair: did you mean for a 16-year-old's CBD oil to carry federal criminal exposure? If not, the amendment writes itself.

We give the bill its due. It repeals a cliff that would outlaw most of this market in November. Its honest-labeling rules, its drug-test warning, and its ban on marketing to children are real protections, and we credit them. That is exactly why this one paragraph stands out. A bill can protect young people without charging them.

This is brief one. The taxes, the permit, the mandatory middlemen, the testing gap, and the DUI system are coming, because fences built with humane language are the ones worth reading slowly. The cliff is still November 12. We are watching both.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya writes Drug Policy Watch, tracking drug policy across all fifty states and Congress. Work with her →

Corrections. We correct errors in the open. See the corrections page.

License. This piece is published under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. "Drug Policy Watch"™ is a trademark of Jessica Mantonya. See Terms & License.

This is journalism and analysis, not legal advice. The penalty chain described is our reading of the bill against current law.

Caption: If you are 19 and there is a bottle of CBD oil in your backpack, a bill in Congress right now would make you a federal offender. Not the store that sold it to you. You.

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How to Spot Propaganda

The best propaganda is true. It does not lie to you, it chooses for you, and then it lets you draw the conclusion yourself. Here is how to catch it.

Most people think propaganda means lies. That belief is the reason it works.

The best propaganda is true. Every fact in it checks out, because a person who wants you to believe something for a long time knows that lies fall apart and true things do not. So they do not lie to you. They choose for you. They gather up the true things that help and set down the true things that hurt, and hand you what is left, and let you conclude it yourself. You walk away certain, and you walk away with your own thought in your head, which is the finest trick in the trade. Nobody argues with a conclusion they think they reached alone.

Which means the usual advice, check the facts, will not save you. The facts are fine. The problem is the ones that never made it into the room.

So the question to carry is not is this true. It is what is missing.

Three things go missing, and once you know their names you cannot stop seeing them.

The first is the other side. Watch for the piece that gives its opponents nothing at all. Not one fair point, not one honest concession, not one place where it says this part is harder than I am making it sound. Real arguments give ground, because people who have actually thought about something know where their own case is thin. A message that is airtight from beginning to end was not thought through. It was built. When you read something and feel that pleasant click of everything fitting, stop. Life does not click. Somebody sanded the edges off before it got to you.

The second is the feeling arriving before the facts. Notice the order things reach you in. Were you told what happened, or were you told how to feel about what happened? Propaganda leads with the feeling, usually anger or fear, because a person who is already angry does not go looking for the rest of the story. If you finish something knowing exactly who to be furious at but you could not explain the actual event to a friend in two sentences, you did not learn anything. You were pointed.

The third is the name. Somebody made this. Somebody paid for it. Can you find out who?

That one sounds obvious and it is the one people skip, so here is what it looks like when it is done well. A few years ago fifty women each posted a photo of herself in the same dress. Real women, real photos, real opinions as far as anyone knows. In two days those posts reached over eleven million people and the dress sold out. What the eleven million did not know was that every one of those women had been handed the dress for free and paid between one and four thousand dollars, and that the store had written the caption requirements into the contracts and approved every picture before it went up.

The government came after the store. Not for lying about the dress. Nobody lied about the dress. What was false was the impression that fifty women had simply liked it.

Nothing in that story is exotic. It is the ordinary shape of the thing. A company with something to sell does not walk up and tell you to buy it, because you have defenses against that and everyone knows it. It arranges for the message to reach you from somewhere you trust, and the arrangement is the part you are not supposed to see.

The same move gets made with policy. Ideas arrive wearing the name of an institute, a council, a coalition of concerned citizens, and some of those are exactly what they say they are, and some are one company in a coat. You cannot tell by the name. That is the whole point of the name. You can usually tell in ten minutes, because in this country the money mostly has to be written down somewhere: charities file, lobbyists register, endorsements have to be disclosed. It is not always easy to find and it is almost always findable, and the finding is the work. It is most of what we do here, and the pattern the finding keeps turning up has a name: enclosure.

Here is the rule underneath all of it, the one that tells you whether you are looking at an argument or at a piece of machinery.

When you find out who paid, does it get stronger or weaker?

Someone who tells you upfront that they have a stake, and then makes their case, can survive you knowing. You weigh the interest against the argument and you might still find the argument good. Knowing the money does not wreck an honest case. It prices it. But when a message only works as long as you believe it came from nowhere in particular, and it falls apart the moment you find the receipt, then the hiding was not an oversight. The hiding was the product.

So: what is missing, and would telling me have cost them anything.

Now the hard part, and it is the only part that actually matters.

Everything above is easy to do to people you already disagree with. That takes no courage and it teaches you nothing, and if that is all you use it for you will end up more certain and more wrong every year. The test only counts when you run it on something that made you nod. On the post you shared. On the article that confirmed what you already suspected about people you do not like. On us, on this page, on this sentence.

Agreement is an anesthetic. It is precisely when you feel most sure, and most pleased with how sure you are, that somebody has done their work well, and the only question left is who.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We correct errors in public, on the same page as the error, with the date and a note saying what changed. We do not quietly edit and we do not pretend it did not happen. Our full corrections policy and our permanent correction log are here. If we have something wrong, tell us: contact@drugpolicywatch.info. Tell us which line, and tell us what is wrong with it. We will look at it the day it arrives. If you are one of the people or organizations named in this article and you want to respond, we will publish your response in full and unedited, on this page. Not a summary. The whole thing, in your words.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. Copyright in the original text is held by Jessica Mantonya, doing business as Drug Policy Watch. "Drug Policy Watch"™ and its logo are common-law marks. Quoted material is not ours to license. The language quoted from the Federal Trade Commission's complaint and press release is a United States government work and is not covered by our license. Not everything is under this license. The full fifty-state briefs, the live legislative trackers, and our other research and data products are separately licensed and are not covered by CC BY-NC-SA. See Terms & License.

This is journalism, not advice. The two checkable factual claims in this essay are linked in the sources above: a closed Federal Trade Commission enforcement action from 2016, and the disclosure rules that make funding traceable. Everything else is argument, and it is labeled as such. Nothing here is legal advice. We aim at the system and the pattern, never at a person, and this piece names no living person and no current organization.

Caption: Most people think propaganda means lies. That belief is the reason it works. The best propaganda is true: it does not lie to you, it chooses for you.

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Every Door but One

Pennsylvania just closed every route to cannabis legalization except the one that runs through the people who write the laws. The state does not allow the other kind.

On June 29, 2026, all twenty three Democratic members of the Pennsylvania Senate signed Discharge Resolution 4, a rarely used procedural tool that asks the full chamber to pull a bill out of a committee that will not act on it. The bill was SB 120, the bipartisan legalization framework that has sat in the Senate Law and Justice Committee for a year without a hearing. Senator Sharif Street, who led the filing, was candid about its odds: it "may not force a vote, but it does force a conversation," he said on the Senate floor as he introduced it.

It forced neither. As of July 17, the official record shows no floor action on the resolution. SB 120 remains where it has been since July of last year, in a committee whose chair is also the bill's own prime sponsor. That is the first door, and it stayed shut.

The second door closed on Sunday, July 12, when Governor Shapiro signed a $50.85 billion budget. Shapiro has proposed legalization in every budget he has delivered, and legal sales in the country's fifth most populous state are projected to exceed $2 billion in the first year. The announcement of it from the governor's own office does not contain the word cannabis. It does not contain the word marijuana. Senate Majority Leader Joe Pittman has said over the years that adult use reform is a nonstarter in budget negotiations, per Cannabis Business Times. The budget was the year's last realistic vehicle. With it signed, adult use legalization in Pennsylvania is settled for 2026.

The arithmetic behind both doors is the same. The Senate is Republican 27 to 23, a majority the party has held since 1994, and the chamber's own gatekeeper explained the logic plainly. Senator Dan Laughlin, the Law and Justice chair who co-authored SB 120 and still will not call a vote on it, told Cannabis Business Times that colleagues are willing to vote for it "if they know it's going to make it to the governor's desk," and that "they don't want to put up a vote that might harm them, politically harm them, if it's for nothing." Read that twice. The votes may exist. The willingness to be seen casting them does not.

The third door is the one that opens or locks in November. State Treasurer Stacy Garrity, the Republican candidate for governor, was asked directly in an NBC10 Philadelphia interview whether she would veto a legalization bill. Her answer was one word: yes. "I don't support legalizing recreational marijuana," she said, per the Philadelphia Inquirer and Broad and Liberty. Shapiro proposes legalization; his challenger pledges to veto it. Whatever else the governor's race is about, it is now also a referendum on whether this door exists at all.

The door Pennsylvania never built

Here is the structural fact that makes Pennsylvania different from most of the states that have legalized: there is no citizen initiative. No number of signatures puts a question on a statewide ballot. In the states where voters could go around a locked legislature, they repeatedly did; that is how legalization passed in states as different as Colorado, Michigan, Missouri, and Montana. Pennsylvanians cannot. Every change must clear a split legislature, where the House is Democratic 102 to 100 with one seat vacant, the Senate is Republican 27 to 23, and a single committee sits across the only hallway.

This matters beyond cannabis, because it is the purest form of the pattern this site exists to track. Enclosure is not only a fence around a plant. We watched the same machinery work in Nebraska, where one office holds three fences at once. It is a fence around the decision. Polling reported by Cannabis Business Times puts support for legalization among Pennsylvania voters between 56 and 69 percent, including 67 percent of Republicans in one survey. A majority of the commonwealth, nearly seven in ten voters in one survey, wants a policy. The structure returns the same answer every year, and the people the structure answers to are not the voters but the calendar of a single committee. When the public cannot reach the question, it does not matter how the public would answer it.

Meanwhile, the fences build themselves

While the legalization doors were closing, the hemp fences kept rising on their own. Section 781 of the federal appropriations law takes effect November 12, 2026, recriminalizing most intoxicating hemp products nationally; we cover that deadline in The Nov 12 Cliff. Harrisburg's own version, SB 49, failed final passage 23 to 27 on June 10; a motion to reconsider passed 29 to 21 and the bill has not moved since. And Philadelphia did not wait for either: City Council passed Bill No. 260163 by a vote of 16 to 0 on June 4, restricting intoxicating hemp products citywide. As of July 17 it sits in the mayor's office awaiting signature; the U.S. Hemp Roundtable reports it mirrors the federal 0.4 milligram total THC cap and takes effect the same day as the federal cliff.

Follow who gains from each closed door. Pennsylvania's capped medical permit holders, the vertically integrated operators and multistate companies, already received a federal margin windfall this spring when Schedule III relief ended the 280E tax penalty for medical operators, a shift we unpacked in They Are Rebuilding Prohibition Out of the Tax Code. The hemp bans, federal, state if revived, and now municipal, would remove the one large open and competitive channel where small retailers still sell without a permit fence. And the legalization stalemate preserves the capped system another year. None of this requires anyone to conspire. Each door closes for its own stated reason. The consolidation happens anyway.

One small counter-move

On July 11, the same week the budget shut the big door, Representative Nathan Davidson and seven colleagues filed HB 2694, which would reserve one additional medical dispensary permit per region for small, diverse, or disadvantaged businesses and give those businesses a path to apply when surrendered licenses are re-awarded. It is a modest bill sitting in the House Health Committee in a short season. It is also, at this writing, the only pending measure we can find that would widen the fence instead of tightening it. Worth watching for that reason alone.

What to watch

Whether SB 49 gets its second final passage vote or dies with the session. Whether the mayor signs Philadelphia's ordinance. The August 18 special election in the vacant 12th House District. And above all November, when all 203 House seats, half the Senate, and the governor's office are on the ballot at once. Pennsylvania's constitution gives its citizens exactly one door into this question, and this year it is open. The full, sourced picture of where the commonwealth stands is on our Pennsylvania state brief, updated July 16, 2026.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We correct errors in public, on the same page as the error, with the date and a note saying what changed. We do not quietly edit and we do not pretend it did not happen. Our full corrections policy and our permanent correction log are here. If we have something wrong, tell us: contact@drugpolicywatch.info. Tell us which line, and tell us what is wrong with it. We will look at it the day it arrives. If you are one of the people or organizations named in this article and you want to respond, we will publish your response in full and unedited, on this page. Not a summary. The whole thing, in your words.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. Copyright in the original text is held by Jessica Mantonya, doing business as Drug Policy Watch. "Drug Policy Watch"™ and its logo are common-law marks. Quoted material is not ours to license. The words of Senators Street and Laughlin, Majority Leader Pittman, and Treasurer Garrity are quoted for news reporting and commentary from the official record and the named outlets, and they remain the property of their respective owners. Not everything is under this license. The full fifty-state briefs, the live legislative trackers, and our other research and data products are separately licensed and are not covered by CC BY-NC-SA. See Terms & License.

This is journalism, not advice. Every claim above is drawn from the official legislative record, the governor's office, city records, or named press reports, linked inline and in the sources. Nothing in this article is legal advice. Where we draw an inference, we say we are drawing an inference. We aim at the system and the pattern, never at a person.

Caption: Pennsylvania closed every route to cannabis legalization this year except one: November. A locked committee, a budget with zero cannabis mentions, a veto promise, and a constitution that gives voters no way around the legislature.

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The Clawback Is Collecting Signatures

H.R. 1447 sat untouched for ten months. Then the President ordered rescheduling, and the signature page started moving again. The newest name was added seven weeks after the tax relief it would revoke became real.

Two days ago we told you about a one-page bill and its twenty-one word clause. They Are Rebuilding Prohibition Out of the Tax Code laid out what H.R. 1447 does: it rewrites Section 280E of the Internal Revenue Code so that the deduction disallowance stops asking what schedule marijuana is in, and starts asking who holds an FDA approval. If that piece was about what the bill says, this one is about something simpler.

Who keeps signing it, and when.

Because a bill in committee has exactly one vital sign, and it is the signature page. H.R. 1447 has had no hearing, no markup, and no vote. Its only official action, ever, is the referral to the House Committee on Ways and Means on the day it was filed. By that measure it looks dead. Then you sort the cosponsors by date, and it is not dead. It is waiting, and it is still being joined.

The dates, in order

Everything below is from the Government Publishing Office's official bill status records for H.R. 1447 and S. 471, pulled July 15, 2026. You can check every name and date yourself at those links. Please do.

February 6, 2025. Senator James Lankford of Oklahoma files S. 471, the Senate version, with Senator Pete Ricketts of Nebraska. Lankford says out loud why, in his own press release: the bill "preempts that loophole" if the push to reschedule marijuana "is successful." The loophole he means is the tax relief itself.

February 21, 2025. Representative Jodey Arrington of Texas, chair of the House Budget Committee, files H.R. 1447 with six original cosponsors: Chuck Edwards (NC-11), Greg Murphy (NC-3), Vern Buchanan (FL-16), Blake Moore (UT-1), Gary Palmer (AL-6), and Pete Sessions (TX-17). The bill's full title says its purpose in one word: to maintain the prohibition on deductions. You maintain a thing you are afraid of losing.

Spring 2025. Four more names in seven weeks: Andy Harris (MD-1) on March 4, Adrian Smith (NE-3) on March 21, Andrew Clyde (GA-9) on March 25, Nathaniel Moran (TX-1) on April 10.

Then nothing. For ten months, on both bills, in both chambers, not one new name.

December 18, 2025. The President signs Executive Order 14370 directing the Attorney General to complete rescheduling. At 12:24 that afternoon, Kevin Sabet of Smart Approaches to Marijuana posts the six minute video we reported on this week, and names this bill as one of his four counterattacks: "That law, when passed, will make sure marijuana never enjoys preferential tax treatment under Schedule 3. We're calling on Congress to pass this bill immediately."

February 9, 2026. Michael Lawler (NY-17) signs H.R. 1447. The first new House name in ten months.

February 10, 2026. One day later, Senator Ted Budd of North Carolina signs S. 471. The first new Senate name since the day it was filed.

April 22, 2026. The DOJ/DEA order is signed, effective April 28, 2026 (91 FR 22714). FDA-approved marijuana drug products and state medical licensees move to Schedule III. The rule says the tax consequence itself, in a section headed Tax Implications:

"The Acting Attorney General further notes that, as a consequence of this rule, state licensees will no longer be subject to the deduction disallowance imposed by Section 280E of the Internal Revenue Code, which applies only to businesses engaged in 'trafficking in controlled substances . . . in a schedule I or II,' 26 U.S.C. 280E."

From April 28 forward, the relief is not a proposal. It is the law that medical licensees operate under today.

April 23, 2026. The day after the order is signed, Treasury and the IRS announce that they "plan to issue guidance to address the principal federal tax issues stemming from the Final Order," and that the guidance is expected to include a transition rule under which rescheduling "generally will be considered to first apply for a business's full taxable year that includes the effective date." In plain terms: the relief is expected to cover all of 2026 for a calendar-year business, and not the years before it. The guidance itself has not issued as of this writing; the announcement of the plan has.

June 3, 2026. Lankford and Arrington, the two sponsors, write to Treasury Secretary Bessent pressing him on how much of the relief he intends to allow, and for how many prior tax years. Note the order of events: Treasury had already said, in April, that it planned to apply the relief to the full current tax year. The sponsors' letter came six weeks after that. While the bill waits, its authors work the same question from the agency side.

June 15, 2026. Paul Gosar (AZ-9) signs H.R. 1447. Seven weeks after the relief took effect.

What changed between the tenth signature and the thirteenth

When the first eleven members signed, in early 2025, the bill was insurance. Rescheduling was a proposal in a stalled rulemaking, 280E relief was a possibility, and cosponsoring cost nothing because it took nothing from anyone.

The three names added in 2026 put their names to the same policy in a changed world.

By February 9, 2026, the President had ordered the rulemaking finished. By June 15, 2026, the relief was in force. Arizona licenses medical marijuana dispensaries through its Department of Health Services. New York registers medical operators under section 35 of its Cannabis Law. Those licensees, in those two states and every other medical state, have been out from under 280E since April 28. So for the two newest House signers, whose own states license medical operators, a signature added now is not insurance against a possibility. It is a commitment to take back relief those operators hold today.

That is what the word clawback means, and it is why the dates matter more than the count.

Now the honest paragraph about the count

Thirteen names in the House out of 435. Three in the Senate out of 100. Two new House signatures and one new Senate signature in all of 2026. That is not a wave, and we are not going to call it one. No committee has scheduled this bill for anything. Most bills referred to Ways and Means die there quietly, and the 119th Congress ends January 3, 2027; any bill that has not passed by then must be refiled from zero.

Here is what the small number does not undo. The bill's sponsor chairs the House Budget Committee. Six of the thirteen House signers, including Arrington himself, sit on Ways and Means, the committee that holds the bill and writes every tax law in the country (committee roster, checked July 15, 2026). The country's most effective prohibitionist organization has called for its immediate passage, on camera. And its authors are simultaneously pressing Treasury to narrow the relief by guidance while the statute waits its turn.

A bill like this does not need momentum. It needs a vehicle. Tax provisions ride: into year-end packages, into reconciliation bills, into extenders nobody reads. One line in a conference report would do it. That is analysis, ours not anyone's admission, and we label it as such. But it is why a one-page bill with no hearing and a live signature page is worth watching in a way that its action history does not suggest.

What to watch

The Ways and Means calendar. Any markup notice naming H.R. 1447, or any tax package moving through the committee, is the moment this stops being theoretical. Six signers are already in the room.

Treasury. The April 23 announcement promised guidance and described the expected transition rule. The guidance itself has not issued as far as we can find, and the June 3 letter from the bill's own sponsors pressed Secretary Bessent on its scope. What Treasury finally publishes will tell you how much of the relief the administration intends to deliver, and H.R. 1447 is the instrument for taking back whatever that turns out to be.

The sponsor's own clock. Arrington announced on November 11, 2025 that he will not seek reelection, in his own office's words. The 119th Congress is his last. If his bill is going to move under his name, it moves by January 3, 2027, because after that both the bill and its sponsor are gone and someone else has to refile it.

The signature pages themselves. They are public, they update, and they are the bill's pulse: H.R. 1447 cosponsors, S. 471 cosponsors.

The rest of the plant. The DEA hearing on rescheduling everything outside the medical channel was scheduled to conclude no later than July 15, 2026, the day this piece is dated. Whichever way that proceeding ends, H.R. 1447 is written so the outcome does not matter: the deduction disallowance would no longer ask what schedule marijuana is in at all.

The clause does the sorting, exactly as we reported on July 13. An FDA-approved product under a DEA registration deducts. Everyone else does not. The only thing that has changed since the first signatures is that the relief being clawed back is no longer hypothetical, and the people signing know that now.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We correct errors in public, on the same page as the error, with the date and a note saying what changed. We do not quietly edit and we do not pretend it did not happen. Our full corrections policy and our permanent correction log are here. If we have something wrong, tell us: contact@drugpolicywatch.info. Tell us which line, and tell us what is wrong with it. We will look at it the day it arrives. If you are one of the people or organizations named in this article and you want to respond, we will publish your response in full and unedited, on this page. Not a summary. The whole thing, in your words.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. Copyright in the original text is held by Jessica Mantonya, doing business as Drug Policy Watch. "Drug Policy Watch"™ and its logo are common-law marks. Quoted material is not ours to license. Kevin Sabet's words, the text of H.R. 1447 and S. 471, and the federal documents quoted here are quoted for news reporting and commentary, and they remain the property of their respective owners. Not everything is under this license. The full fifty-state briefs, the live legislative trackers, and our other research and data products are separately licensed and are not covered by CC BY-NC-SA. See Terms & License.

Disclaimer. This is journalism, not advice. Nothing in this article is legal, tax, medical, or financial advice, and it should not be relied on as any of those. If you have a tax question about Section 280E or any other provision, talk to a tax professional. Fact and analysis are labeled separately, on purpose. Every factual claim in this piece is sourced, and the primary documents are linked so you can check them yourself rather than take our word for it. Where we draw an inference, we say we are drawing an inference. Where we do not know something, we say we do not know it. We aim at the system and the pattern, never at a person. We did not seek comment from the members named here before publishing; if any of them tells us why they signed, we will publish it in full, unedited, on this page.

Caption: H.R. 1447, the bill that would take back the cannabis industry's 280E tax relief, has had no hearing and no vote. Its signature page is still growing, and the newest name came seven weeks after the relief became real.

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They Are Rebuilding Prohibition Out of the Tax Code

Marijuana was ordered rescheduled. Within hours, the country's leading prohibitionist announced four counterattacks. One of them is a single clause in a one-page bill, and it would hand the burdens of legalization to the corner dispensary and the benefits to the pharmaceutical company.

Here is the sentence. It is twenty-one words long, it sits at the end of a one-page bill nobody is covering, and it decides who owns the cannabis plant in America.

"...which is prohibited by Federal law or the law of any State in which such trade or business is conducted."

Hold onto it. We will come back to it, and when we do it will be the most expensive clause in American drug policy.

On December 18, 2025, the President signed Executive Order 14370. Its title is Increasing Medical Marijuana and Cannabidiol Research, and Section 2(a) carries the line that mattered: "The Attorney General shall take all necessary steps to complete the rulemaking process related to rescheduling marijuana to Schedule III of the [Controlled Substances Act] in the most expeditious manner in accordance with Federal law."

Fifty years of argument, and the reform movement had won.

That same afternoon, at 12:24, Kevin Sabet posted a video.

Watch it here. Six minutes. Go watch it before you read another word of this, because everything below is checked against it.

Sabet runs Smart Approaches to Marijuana, the most effective prohibitionist organization in the country. (We trace its regulatory-capture playbook in SAM and Regulatory Capture.) He advised the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy under three presidents. His video runs a little over six minutes, and in it he does not concede a single thing. He announces four counterattacks.

We hold that video. We hold the second one too, the one his organization posted six months later, during the hearing. The Internet Archive will not preserve posts from x.com, so we recorded both ourselves and transcribed them. Every quotation below is checked against our own copy of his own words.

We do not host, publish, or distribute either recording, and we are not going to. They are his. The only place to watch them is his own account, and both are linked here so you can go and check us. We keep our copies for one reason: so that if the posts come down, the record of what he said does not.

Seven months on: a petition in the D.C. Circuit. Two bills in Congress. A question on the Massachusetts ballot. And a fourth move that, as far as we can find, nobody has acted on yet.

He lost, publicly, on a Thursday. He had a national strategy by lunch.

First: what actually happened to rescheduling, because almost every account of it is wrong

The executive order did not reschedule anything. It told the Attorney General to finish a rulemaking.

On April 22, 2026, the Acting Attorney General signed a final rule, published in the Federal Register on April 28 and effective that day, that finished part of it. Two things went to Schedule III: FDA-approved drug products containing marijuana, and marijuana held under a state medical marijuana license. The rule created an expedited federal registration process for those licensees, and it justified the whole thing by reference to the 1961 Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs.

Adult-use marijuana was left in Schedule I. That is most of the legal market in this country.

The same day, DEA withdrew the old hearing it had noticed back in 2024 and noticed a new one for the rest of the plant, to open June 29, 2026.

So: the medical channel is in Schedule III. The rest of the plant is not. It is being fought over in a federal hearing room in Arlington, Virginia, in a proceeding that opened June 29, 2026 and closes no later than Wednesday, July 15, 2026.

That distinction is the hinge of everything below. Keep it.

One: he retained a former Attorney General of the United States

"As we speak, we are preparing to file suit against the administration to block this rule if it should ever be made final. We have retained Torridon Law and Bill Barr, former Attorney General of the United States, to lead this charge. Bill has assured me we have an excellent case."

William Barr served as Attorney General twice, under George H. W. Bush and again under the first Trump administration. He is a partner at Torridon Law PLLC.

The petition came. Smart Approaches to Marijuana, with the National Drug and Alcohol Screening Association, asked the D.C. Circuit to set the rescheduling aside. We have not obtained the filing itself. We are relying on Marijuana Moment's reporting that it exists and is pending, rather than describing to you the arguments of a document we have not read. We are working on getting it and we will publish what it says.

We do not need it to know the retention is real, because he said it twice. On June 29, 2026, on his organization's own account, he said it again:

"We're proud to be there, sitting with former Attorney General Bill Barr's law firm, and they've just been excellent to work with."

It is not a threat he made. It is a retainer he announced, and then sat beside for six months.

Two: the clause

Section 280E of the Internal Revenue Code forbids a business that traffics in controlled substances from deducting ordinary business expenses. Rent. Payroll. Advertising. Security.

It does not disallow the cost of the goods themselves. Which is why the pain lands hardest on retail, where there is little cost of goods and mostly overhead, and lightest on cultivation, which can bury much of its cost in the product. It is why a dispensary's effective federal tax rate can run far above a normal company's while a grower's looks ordinary. 280E is not really a tax. It is a market-structure weapon, and it lands on the storefront.

Now the mechanism. The current 280E is keyed to the schedule. It reaches trafficking in "controlled substances (within the meaning of schedule I and II)." Move marijuana to Schedule III and 280E switches off by operation of law. No new statute needed. That is the single largest practical benefit rescheduling delivers. It is, in dollar terms, most of what the whole fight was about.

You do not have to take our word for any of that. The government says it itself. The April rule contains a section headed Tax Implications, and in it the Administrator writes:

"The Administrator further notes that, as a consequence of this rule, holders of state medical marijuana licenses will no longer be subject to the deduction disallowance imposed by Section 280E of the Internal Revenue Code, which applies only to businesses engaged in 'trafficking in controlled substances . . . in a schedule I or II,' 26 U.S.C. 280E."

Read that again, because it is doing two things at once. It confirms the mechanism: 280E is keyed to the schedule, and leaving Schedule I turns it off. And it tells you that for state medical licensees, this is not a future benefit. It already happened, on April 28, 2026.

Which means H.R. 1447 does not merely withhold relief from them. It takes back relief they already have.

Whether it turns into money in anyone's hands is a separate question, and it is not settled. The April rule only encouraged the Treasury Secretary to consider retrospective relief. Treasury has issued no guidance. And on June 3, 2026, Senator James Lankford and Representative Jodey Arrington wrote to Treasury Secretary Bessent, pressing him on what relief he intended to allow and for how many prior tax years.

Remember those two names. They are the sponsors of the bill you are about to read.

Here is what Sabet announced on December 18:

"We also are going to take the fight to big marijuana's bank account. That's thanks to the No Deductions for Marijuana [Businesses] Act, introduced in Congress by House Budget Committee Chair Jodey Arrington and Senator James Lankford. That law, when passed, will make sure marijuana never enjoys preferential tax treatment under Schedule 3. We're calling on Congress to pass this bill immediately."

H.R. 1447, the No Deductions for Marijuana Businesses Act, was introduced February 21, 2025 by Representative Jodey Arrington of Texas, with Representatives Edwards, Murphy, Buchanan, Moore of Utah, Palmer, and Sessions. It went to Ways and Means. The Senate companion was filed February 6, 2025 by Senator James Lankford of Oklahoma with Senator Pete Ricketts of Nebraska.

It is one page. Read the bill yourself, here. It takes ninety seconds, it is written in plain English, and you do not need us to tell you what it says.

It rewrites 280E to read, in full:

"No deduction or credit shall be allowed for any amount paid or incurred during the taxable year in carrying on any trade or business if such trade or business (or the activities which comprise such trade or business) consists of trafficking in (1) marijuana (as defined in section 102(16) of the Controlled Substances Act), or (2) controlled substances (within the meaning of schedule I and II of the Controlled Substances Act), which is prohibited by Federal law or the law of any State in which such trade or business is conducted."

Two things are happening in that sentence, and the second one is the whole game.

First: marijuana gets its own numbered line. It is lifted out of the schedules entirely and named as a standing category. That severs 280E from the drug schedule. Move marijuana to Schedule III, move it to Schedule V, and it makes no difference at all, because the statute has stopped asking what schedule it is in.

Second: read the last clause. The disallowance reaches a business "which is prohibited by Federal law or the law of any State in which such trade or business is conducted."

Sell marijuana outside an approved, federally registered channel and you are still prohibited by federal law at Schedule III. You lose your deductions.

Sell an FDA-approved marijuana drug product, under a DEA registration, and you are not prohibited by federal law at all. You deduct.

The bill does not disallow deductions for marijuana. It disallows deductions for the marijuana that nobody holds an approval for.

That is not our reading. That is the sentence.

One limit, since we quoted the whole thing: full descheduling would remove the federal prohibition and the clause would have nothing left to grip. The bill severs 280E from the schedule. It does not sever 280E from prohibition. Nobody in this fight is offering descheduling. Short of that, the clause holds.

And do not let anyone tell you this bill was a panicked reaction to the executive order. They saw it coming. Lankford said so the week he filed it, in his own press release: the bill "preempts that loophole" if the push to reschedule marijuana "is successful." He wrote it in February 2025, ten months early, to hold a line that was already under pressure. Look at the bill's own title: "To amend the Internal Revenue Code of 1986 to maintain the prohibition."

Maintain. It sat on the shelf for ten months. The day the President signed, Sabet picked it up. We have tracked the bill's quiet progress since, in The Clawback Is Collecting Signatures.

What the bill actually does, stated plainly

Rescheduling still happens.

Every new federal burden lands. FDA jurisdiction. Labeling rules. Advertising standards. The whole apparatus.

And the one thing the industry was going to get in exchange is taken back by statute.

Is it left with nothing? No, and we are not going to say so. Two benefits of Schedule III survive H.R. 1447 untouched. Research gets easier, for universities and nonprofit labs as much as for anyone. And the path to an FDA-approved cannabis drug gets cheaper and faster.

Now look hard at who that second one is worth anything to.

It is worth nothing to a dispensary in Northampton. It is worth a great deal to a company that can fund a clinical trial and file for an approval.

So it is not a trap that catches everyone. It is a sorting machine. Schedule III minus 280E relief hands the burdens to the storefront and the benefits to the pharmaceutical company. And the bill's own final clause does the sorting, in one line, in writing.

We are not here to defend anyone's tax bill. 280E relief scales with size, and the biggest multi-state operators would capture most of it, and they are building fences of their own. That is not our fight.

Our fight is that the tax code is being used to decide which fence stands.

Three: he invited three federal agencies to police the plant

"We also call on the Food and Drug Administration, the Federal Communications Commission, and the Federal Trade Commission to immediately begin monitoring the activities of big marijuana to ensure they are not in violation of the myriad new rules they are now subject to under Schedule 3."

We found no public record of any of the three acting on it. We searched their public announcements and enforcement pages and came up empty. We did not run a systematic docket review of all three agencies, so we will not tell you it definitely has not happened. We will tell you we looked and found nothing. It remains a request.

But do not skip it, because it is the strangest thing he says.

A prohibitionist is arguing that Schedule III makes cannabis more regulable, not less. He says it outright: rescheduling "exposes them to an even wider array of risks and federal agency enforcement," and "there are exactly zero FDA-approved uses for raw, crude marijuana."

He is not wrong about the mechanics. That is what makes it worth your attention.

In June he went further, and said it in a complete sentence. Twice.

"Plenty of FDA-approved medications based on marijuana, which we have no problem with."

"Those that need the medical properties of marijuana, we have no problem with that. They go through the FDA like every other medication does."

He is not opposed to cannabis medicine. He is opposed to cannabis medicine that has not been through the FDA. That is his position, in his words, twice, and he is entitled to hold it.

Here is the question he has not answered, and we would like him to. An FDA approval has an owner. It costs a fortune, it is granted for a defined and standardized product, and it is only worth its cost to whoever holds exclusivity at the end of it.

So what happens to the plant that has no owner?

He has not said. We are asking it here, in the open, and if Smart Approaches to Marijuana answers, we will publish the answer in full, unedited, on this page.

This next part is our extrapolation and not his statement, and he is free to reject it. But run his argument to the end and it lands here: everything outside the approved channel becomes contraband, or an unapproved medical claim, or an advertising liability waiting for the FTC. Not abolished. Relocated.

Schedule III does not deregulate the plant. It moves the fence out of criminal law and into administrative law and intellectual property. The gate does not open. It gets re-keyed.

And that is the same gate the pharmaceutical capture model is building. We are not saying Sabet wants a drug company to own cannabis. He has never said that, and we have no document that says it. We are saying something narrower and much harder to answer: whatever anyone intends, these moves make the unpatented channel more expensive and the patented one comparatively cheaper. That is not a motive. That is an incidence, and incidence can be counted.

There is a name for where that ends, and it is not monopoly. Michael Heller and Rebecca Eisenberg called it the anticommons (Science, 1998): when too many parties hold a right to exclude, you do not get efficient ownership. You get underuse. Their worked example was biomedical research, where fragmented upstream patents kept downstream drugs from ever being built.

Cannabis is a candidate. Hundreds of compounds, a combinatorial space of preparations, and a patent layer that is being built right now over chemotypes and extractions and formulations. Fence enough of that and nobody can build anything, including the drug companies.

So the honest prediction is not that the market gets transferred. It is that the market gets smaller. Fewer preparations. Fewer indications. Higher prices. A plant people used freely for thousands of years, reduced to whatever two or three molecules somebody found it worth patenting.

Enclosure does not require anyone to hate the commons. It only requires that everyone agree it needs a gate.

Four: if you cannot win in Washington, buy the ballot line in Boston

"Now, today, for the first time, I can also announce our multi-million-dollar-led support for two grassroots campaigns to end marijuana sales and commercialization in Maine and Massachusetts. We still have the power to take back our public health."

He did not have to tell us this. That is what makes it the most useful sentence he has ever spoken.

SAM Action is a 501(c)(4). It is not required to disclose its donors and it does not. Every reporter who ever tried to trace prohibition money into a state ballot campaign has hit that wall. Sabet announced the spending himself, on camera, in the same breath as the lawsuit. We do not need to say "dark money." We can just quote him.

To the Coalition for a Healthy Massachusetts, the committee behind the measure to repeal legal cannabis sales, SAM Action gave 1,550,000 dollars, and is its sole funder. Roughly 1.44 million of that paid for the signature drive. (Those figures, including the sole-funder claim, come from Cannabis Business Times' reporting on the campaign's filings and run through the end of 2025. We have not opened the Massachusetts Office of Campaign and Political Finance records ourselves, and we will say so rather than imply we have. The next disclosure is due in September.)

To the parallel Maine campaign, SAM Action gave 2,000,000 dollars, which we did take from the primary: the Maine Ethics Commission's own major-contributor report. (That report tells us the amount. It does not tell us nobody else gave, so we are not calling it the sole donation.)

Maine's effort failed to reach the 2026 ballot. Massachusetts did not. On November 3, 2026, Massachusetts voters will be asked to repeal the legal cannabis market that Massachusetts voters created in 2016.

Now be precise about what that money bought, because the precise version is colder than the angry one.

It did not buy a single signature. Paid signature gathering is legal and ordinary, and the tens of thousands of people who signed were paid nothing and sold nothing.

It bought a ballot line. Access to the one arena where an ordinary person outranks a lobbyist. A citizens' initiative whose entire budget came from one out-of-state nonprofit that has not disclosed who paid for it.

Elinor Ostrom's third principle for a healthy commons is that the people the rules affect can take part in changing them. (More on that idea in The Commons.)

This is that arena, entered by wire transfer.

Meanwhile, in Arlington

The hearing that decides the rest of the plant is happening as you read this.

It opened June 29, 2026 at the DEA Hearing Facility in Arlington, Virginia. Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek C. Julius presides. DEA Docket No. 1362, Hearing Docket No. 26-96. (Orders are posted here.) It concludes no later than Wednesday, July 15. No livestream was permitted. The paper record is the record.

DEA selected seven interested persons to participate. They are a drug-testing trade association, a state bureau of investigation, Smart Approaches to Marijuana, the states of Nebraska, Idaho and Indiana, an anti-impaired-driving group, and two physicians. Every one of them opposes rescheduling. We found no pro-reform participant among them. (Our field guide to that room is Who Got a Seat.)

The executive order itself notes that the underlying proposed rule drew "nearly 43,000 public comments." A comment docket is self-selected and is not a poll, and we will not pretend otherwise. But it was the only formal channel the public was given.

Not one of those 43,000 people has a chair in that room.

Smart Approaches to Marijuana has one. And on June 29, Sabet said this:

"We're happy that we've subpoenaed DEA's top, one of the top scientists there."

We are reporting that he said it. We are not reporting that it is true. The account of a subpoena traces to The Drug Report, which is SAM's own publication. DEA has never posted a ruling on SAM's request, and we have checked that docket every day since July 1. A prehearing statement is not a subpoena; subpoenas issue under the judge's authority, not a party's. Until the docket says otherwise, we are not going to tell you a private organization compelled a federal scientist to testify.

What we can tell you is the shape of the room. A private advocacy organization, funded by donors it will not name, is a party with standing inside a federal rulemaking. The 43,000 commenters are not.

The number we could not close

In December, Sabet says the industry gave "tens of millions of dollars to the President and his campaign."

In June, pointing at something specific, it narrows. Now it is "donations from people like Kim Rivers who donated to inaugural committees and MAHA PACs." Kim Rivers is the chief executive of Trulieve.

In the same sentence he goes further and attaches a motive to a federal decision. We are not going to repeat that part. Nothing in the public record establishes that any donation caused a scheduling decision, and an accusation does not become reportable because the man we are investigating made it first.

Here is what we found when we went to the Federal Election Commission ourselves.

Neither of those contributions came from Trulieve or from Kim Rivers.

We are not putting a total at the bottom of that column.

We searched federal committee filings. We did not trace state committees, trade associations, lobbying registrations, or the undisclosed nonprofit money that funds both sides of this fight. We do not know the denominator. A number we cannot complete is not evidence, and printing a subtotal against his sentence and inviting you to draw the obvious conclusion would be an accusation wearing a hedge.

So we cannot tell you whether his figure is right or wrong. We can tell you we went and looked, we can show you exactly what we found, and we can tell you what we did not find. When we can close it we will publish it, including if it turns out he was right.

What the moves have in common

Look at what they do, not at what anyone meant by them.

H.R. 1447 raises the cost of operating, through the tax code, by design. The call to the FDA, the FCC, and the FTC raises the cost of operating, through enforcement exposure. The ballot measure raises the cost to infinity, in one state.

On all three, the burden lands on the channel that has no approval behind it. On all three, the holder of an FDA approval pays none of it.

The lawsuit we are not going to score, because we have not read the petition, and the April rule it attacks is the same rule that moved FDA-approved marijuana products into Schedule III. We will tell you what it does when we have read it.

A commons is never lost in one place. It is lost the way a field is fenced. A petition here. A clause in the tax code there. Three agencies invited in through the front door. A ballot line paid for in a state where the voters already answered.

You can win in Washington and still lose the plant.

And here is the part they cannot buy

Look at what every fence in this article costs.

A federal appeal costs money. An FDA approval costs a fortune. A ballot line in Massachusetts cost 1,550,000 dollars.

Publication is free. And it cannot be undone.

You cannot patent what is already in the public domain. Prior art is the only instrument in this entire story that costs nothing and runs in one direction only. Publish the genetics. Publish the standards. Publish the preparations, the methods, the data. Every part of the plant that is written down and given away, in public, before someone files on it, is a part of the plant that no one can ever take back.

Be honest about its limits: publishing does not stop a bad patent from issuing, and it does not stop someone patenting an improvement on top of what you published. What it does is put the published thing permanently out of reach. Forever. For free.

Every gate in this story has to be bought. The commons only has to be written down.

And the 1,550,000 dollars bought a ballot line. It did not buy a majority.

That is still sitting there, unpurchased, on November 3, 2026.

He published his plan in daylight, on a Thursday, at 12:24 in the afternoon.

We were watching. That is the job. The rest of it is yours.

Drug Policy Watch is a one-person newsroom. Our work is free to read and it always will be. We do this because a literate public rolls back enclosure, and because the people who are building these fences are counting on you not to read the bill.

Read the bill.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We correct errors in public, on the same page as the error, with the date and a note saying what changed. We do not quietly edit and we do not pretend it did not happen. Our full corrections policy and our permanent correction log are here. If we have something wrong, tell us: contact@drugpolicywatch.info. Tell us which line, and tell us what is wrong with it. We will look at it the day it arrives. If you are one of the people or organizations named in this article and you want to respond, we will publish your response in full and unedited, on this page. Not a summary. The whole thing, in your words.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. Take it. Use it. That is the whole point. You may copy it, redistribute it, translate it, remix it, and build on it, in any medium, on three conditions: credit us, do not use it primarily for commercial gain, and release whatever you build on it under the same open license, so that it stays as free as you found it. The ShareAlike condition is not a formality. It is the anti-enclosure clause. It is the same principle this article is about: what is opened must stay open. A compliant credit looks like this: Source: Drug Policy Watch (drugpolicywatch.info), used under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. with the link pointing to this page. If you adapted it, say so and say what you changed. Copyright in the original text is held by Jessica Mantonya, doing business as Drug Policy Watch. "Drug Policy Watch"™ and its logo are common-law marks. Quoted material is not ours to license. Kevin Sabet's words, the text of Executive Order 14370, H.R. 1447, and the federal filings quoted here are quoted for news reporting and commentary, and they remain the property of their respective owners. His videos are his. We link to them on his own accounts and we do not host, mirror, or redistribute them. Not everything is under this license. The full fifty-state briefs, the live legislative trackers, and our other research and data products are separately licensed and are not covered by CC BY-NC-SA. Write to us if you need them. See Terms & License.

Disclaimer. This is journalism, not advice. Nothing in this article is legal, tax, medical, or financial advice, and it should not be relied on as any of those. If you have a tax question about Section 280E or any other provision, talk to a tax professional. If you have a legal question, talk to a lawyer. Fact and analysis are labeled separately, on purpose. Every factual claim in this piece is sourced, and the primary documents are linked so you can check them yourself rather than take our word for it. Where we draw an inference, we say we are drawing an inference. Where we do not know something, we say we do not know it, and we tell you what we looked for and did not find. We report accusations. We do not adopt them. Where a person quoted here makes a claim about someone else, we report that the claim was made and we say plainly whether the public record supports it. We aim at the system and the pattern, never at a person. We did not seek advance comment for this piece. Everything reported here about Smart Approaches to Marijuana comes from statements its president made publicly, on camera, on his own and his organization's accounts, and from federal documents that anyone can pull. The invitation to respond is open, it is unedited, and it does not expire.

Every factual claim is documented and linked in the sources above. Independent journalism and analysis, not legal advice.

Caption: Marijuana was ordered rescheduled. Hours later, the country's leading prohibitionist announced four counterattacks. One is a twenty-one-word clause in a one-page tax bill.

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Federal Cannabis Policy Convergence: What's Happening in the Next Five Months

Three concurrent federal actions will reshape the cannabis landscape by November 2026. Industry stakeholders need to understand what's coming and what it means for their business.

The convergence

On June 29, the DEA holds a rescheduling hearing that will determine if cannabis moves from Schedule I to Schedule III. On November 12, federal restrictions on hemp-derived cannabinoids take effect, making delta-8, delta-10, THC-O, and THCP Schedule I controlled substances nationwide. In between, pharmaceutical firms are advancing FDA approvals for standardized, full-spectrum cannabis medicines under patent protection. The outcome won't be simple legalization or criminalization. It will be a stratified system in which different segments of the cannabis industry move in opposite directions.

The federal roadmap: the 2026 National Drug Control Strategy

On May 4, 2026, the White House published a comprehensive 195-page National Drug Control Strategy that treats cannabis through two distinct lenses: criminalization and pharmaceuticalization.

On criminalization: state-legal cannabis cultivation is explicitly framed as cover for transnational criminal activity. The Strategy singles out Chinese organized crime operations, citing specific evidence: in Oklahoma, law enforcement estimates that Chinese criminal groups run more than 80% of the state's marijuana and hemp farms. Federal enforcement has been consolidated under Homeland Security Task Forces, the same organizational structure used against fentanyl cartels designated as Foreign Terrorist Organizations. Domestic cannabis distribution is now subject to material-support-for-terrorism statutes.

On pharmaceuticalization: the Strategy elevates FDA-approved cannabis medicines (Marinol, Epidiolex) as the federal government's authoritative reference on cannabis health effects. It explicitly invites the pharmaceutical industry to develop cannabis-use-disorder medications. It frames high-potency cannabis and hemp-derived products as "emerging drug threats" requiring federal enforcement.

What this signals: the federal government will tolerate cannabis when it is FDA-approved, pharmaceutical-grade, and patent-protected. Everything else faces enforcement.

The hemp deadline: November 12, 2026

Section 781 of the FY2026 Continuing Appropriations Act changed the legal definition of hemp. Effective November 12, 2026, delta-8 THC, delta-10 THC, THC-O-acetate, THCP, any synthetic or chemically converted cannabinoid, and products with total THC above 0.3% (measuring total THC, not just delta-9) will be reclassified as Schedule I controlled substances. This is statutory law. No administrative rule-making is required. The date is fixed.

The entire ecosystem of hemp-derived cannabinoid retailers, manufacturers, and wholesalers currently operating under the 2018 Farm Bill faces federal reclassification on November 12, 2026. Products that are legal in all 50 states today will become Schedule I on November 12. For hemp operators, this is not a procedural matter. This is a business-continuity question.

The pharmaceutical pathway: what's happening in real time

Separately from federal policy, pharmaceutical firms are moving rapidly to capture medical cannabis through FDA approval. In September 2025, a German pharmaceutical firm called Vertanical published a Phase 3 clinical trial in Nature Medicine showing that a full-spectrum cannabis extract was effective for chronic low back pain compared to placebo. A month later, they published a second Phase 3 trial in Pain and Therapy showing the same extract was superior to opioids on both pain relief and gastrointestinal side effects.

These aren't isolated trials. They are the proof-of-concept that whole-plant cannabis, when characterized and standardized to pharmaceutical specifications, can pass FDA-level clinical trials. The extract is patented. The cultivar is proprietary. The extraction process is proprietary. The delivery platforms are proprietary. This is not dispensary cannabis. This is pharmaceutical cannabis, and the dispensary economy cannot match the regulatory complexity or the patent protection.

The June 29 hearing: where it gets decided

On June 29, 2026, the DEA will hold a public hearing on cannabis rescheduling. It will determine whether state-licensed medical cannabis programs receive federal regulatory recognition, whether research access to cannabis expands, and whether the path opens for pharmaceutical development. An April 2026 order from Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche already moved FDA-approved cannabis products into Schedule III. The June 29 hearing will determine whether state-licensed medical cannabis follows, or whether the system remains bifurcated (FDA-approved = Schedule III; state-legal = Schedule I). This is where organized industry voice matters: NORML has requested a seat, and who testifies, whose data gets cited, and whose interests are on record will shape the outcome.

The stratification: who wins, who faces risk

If federal policy proceeds as written, the cannabis industry splits into distinct regulatory segments with opposite trajectories:

• FDA-approved pharmaceutical cannabis: moving into Schedule III, federally reimbursed, patent-protected. The pharmaceutical industry's lane. Now through 2027.
• State-licensed medical cannabis: legal under state law, federal status uncertain until June 29. Decided at the hearing.
• Adult-use / recreational dispensaries: legal under state law, federally illegal, facing increasing FTO-style enforcement under the Homeland Security Task Force structure. Ongoing, escalating.
• Hemp-derived cannabinoids: currently legal nationwide, moving to Schedule I on November 12, 2026.
• Home cultivation: variable by state; federal enforcement pressure ongoing.

The outcome is not one regulatory system. It is parallel systems moving in opposite directions. That is the real story.

What to do now

Hemp-derived cannabinoid operators have until November 12, 2026. The statute is written and the date is fixed, so the strategic options are inventory liquidation, product reformulation, state-level workarounds, or legal-defense preparation. Consult legal counsel immediately.

Dispensary and adult-use operators should organize for June 29, document regulatory compliance and community benefits for the hearing record, understand their federal exposure, build coalitions, and engage state-level policy.

Medical cannabis operators should prepare for June 29 as a decision point and document clinical outcomes, patient populations, and compliance, the evidence that matters at the hearing.

All stakeholders should secure legal representation at the June 29 hearing, understand the pharmaceutical competitive landscape, and engage in public education, because the National Drug Control Strategy contains claims about cannabis health effects and organized-crime connections that the public record can contest.

The longer story: pharmaceutical capture

There is a structural argument worth understanding beneath these immediate actions. Public-health researcher Dr. Del Potter has published an analysis arguing that federal policy is creating a stratified access architecture: pharmaceutical-grade cannabis becomes regulated medicine (expensive, reimbursed, patent-protected) while dispensary cannabis faces criminalization. His case is that Vertanical has shown whole-plant cannabis can pass FDA-level trials, that FDA approval provides the legitimacy the 2026 Strategy requires, and that patents on cultivar, extraction, and delivery lock out non-pharmaceutical producers. His counterargument is that the cannabis community should build its own FDA-pathway program under nonprofit governance, taking full-spectrum cannabis through Phase 3 trials and licensing it non-exclusively, at an estimated $70 to $130 million over six years. This is one researcher's serious interpretation, but it describes a regulatory outcome that is currently unfolding.

Key dates

• June 29, 2026: DEA rescheduling hearing. Medical cannabis status determined.
• November 12, 2026: Hemp restrictions effective. Hemp-derived cannabinoids become Schedule I.
• Ongoing: Pharmaceutical FDA submissions advance; HSTF enforcement expands.

This analysis synthesizes federal policy documents and published research. It is not legal advice, regulatory guidance, or official government position. Industry stakeholders should consult legal and regulatory counsel specific to their business and jurisdiction.

Who Got a Seat: A Field Guide to the Seven Voices the DEA Chose to Hear

Correction, July 12, 2026. An earlier version of this piece described the attorneys general at the DEA hearing as a four-state bloc including Louisiana. That is wrong. Louisiana moved to withdraw as a designated party on June 24, 2026, and Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius granted the motion on June 25, writing that Louisiana thereby "waives its status as a person entitled to a hearing." The hearing bloc is three states: Nebraska, Idaho and Indiana. We published on July 9 and 10 and missed an order issued two weeks earlier. The error was ours. Louisiana had already withdrawn from the parallel D.C. Circuit petition, so it has now left both fights, and it is the only one of the four that runs its own medical cannabis program. (Order of Chief ALJ Julius, June 25, 2026; reported by The Marijuana Herald.)

The cannabis rescheduling hearing running right now in Arlington has seven invited participants, and all seven oppose the change. Here is who they are, what they want, and what each one stands to gain. Know the room.

Last week we wrote about the empty chairs: how the DEA built a hearing on the future of cannabis and invited no one who supports reform. Roughly 92 percent of the more than 42,000 public comments backed rescheduling or wanted the government to go further, and none of that majority got a seat. NORML, the Drug Policy Alliance, the industry group ATACH, and others all applied and were all turned away, on the logic that a person who supports a rule cannot be "adversely affected or aggrieved" by it, and so has no standing to speak.

This piece is about the chairs that are filled.

The hearing opened June 29 inside DEA headquarters in Arlington, Virginia, before Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius, and runs through July 15. There is no livestream. The judge acknowledged the "national public interest" in the proceeding and then ordered that it "not be televised, livestreamed, or broadcasted in any way." If you want to watch democracy decide what happens to a plant that more than 42,000 people wrote in about, you need a seat in a small room in Virginia. So let us do the next best thing and tell you exactly who is in that room, because these seven were not chosen at random. Together they make a complete argument, each supplying a piece the others cannot.

A designated participant is not a commenter. Participants can call witnesses, introduce evidence, cross-examine, and file legal briefs. What enters this record shapes the judge's recommendation, the DEA's final decision, and the litigation that follows. The seven below are building that record alone, with only the government, the rule's official proponent, on the other side.

We profile them in the order they testify. For each one, the same three questions: who they are, what they will argue, and what they stand to gain. That last question is the one we always ask at Drug Policy Watch, and it deserves an honest warning before we start: the answers are not the same for all seven. Some of these participants have a direct financial stake in keeping the plant restricted. Some have an institutional one. And two of them are private citizens carrying real grief, whose sincerity we do not doubt and will not insult. A field guide that flattens those differences into one villain would be propaganda. This is not that.

July 2: The drug-testing industry

The National Drug and Alcohol Screening Association (NDASA) is the trade association of the drug-testing business: the labs, collectors, medical review officers, third-party administrators, and testing companies, consolidated into the industry's dominant group when the older DATIA association merged into it in 2023. Its executive director, Jo McGuire, testifies that the rescheduling proposal failed to address transportation safety, and the group is calling a former Department of Transportation official, Patrice Kelly, as a witness. It has also called on Congress to keep transportation workers subject to testing and announced a campaign to preserve DOT's testing authority.

What does NDASA stand to gain? This one is arithmetic. Marijuana is the single largest thing the drug-testing industry tests for: industry market research puts the cannabis segment at roughly 57 to 59 percent of testing revenue, the biggest share of a U.S. testing services market that runs to hundreds of millions of dollars a year, with workplace testing in the billions. Every state that legalizes, and every employer that stops testing for THC, shrinks that market. The most protected slice of it is federally mandated DOT testing, which is exactly the ground NDASA has chosen to defend. Its safety language may be sincere in parts, but it is self-interested in whole. NDASA is also a petitioner in the D.C. Circuit litigation against the April order, and it filed a separate lawsuit alongside SAM. Of the seven, this is the cleanest case of a fence-keeper: an industry that profits from the wall, fighting to keep the wall.

July 6: The prohibition movement's hub

Smart Approaches to Marijuana (SAM) is the country's most visible anti-legalization organization, founded in 2013 by Kevin Sabet and former Congressman Patrick Kennedy. It runs as four interlocking legal vehicles out of one Alexandria office suite: a charity, a think tank, a federal PAC, and, at the center, a 501(c)(4) called SAM Action whose donors are legally hidden and whose net assets reached about $23 million by the end of 2024 after contributions jumped roughly 446 percent in a single year. We have documented where SAM's money goes: it is the sole funder behind the 2026 Massachusetts recriminalization campaign and a Maine effort now aimed at 2027. Where the money comes from, no public document says. That is the design.

At the hearing, SAM is reaching for scientific authority. It says it will call Bertha Madras, the Harvard professor and former federal drug official who is the opposition's most credentialed scientist, and, remarkably, a DEA pharmacologist named Luli Akinfiresoye, an agency scientist whose earlier report linked cannabis to psychosis and cognitive harm. The DEA has resisted producing its own employee as an opposition witness, which tells you something about how strange this proceeding is: the agency proposing the rule is fighting not to have its own scientist testify against it.

What does SAM stand to gain? Here honesty requires care. There is no primary document showing pharma, alcohol, or tobacco money behind SAM, and Sabet denies receiving any. The documented problem is different: an organization whose funders are invisible by design is stockpiling millions to re-criminalize what voters legalized, and a hearing like this one hands it the official record it needs. SAM's win condition is not a product or a market. It is the fence itself.

July 7: The bereaved father

DUID Victim Voices is, for practical purposes, one man: Ed Wood, a retired medical-device CEO whose 33-year-old son Brian was killed by two drug-impaired drivers. Wood built a small organization around a single argument: until there is a reliable roadside test for THC impairment, expanding legal cannabis is irresponsible. He wrote the 2017 Colorado law requiring the state to collect drug-impaired-driving data, and he has published peer-reviewed analysis of Colorado's drugged-driving numbers. That data work, and his standing as a bereaved parent, are what he brings to the record.

What does Ed Wood stand to gain? Nothing, as far as we can document, and we want to say that plainly. This is not an industry front. It is a father who lost his son. His concern about impaired driving is legitimate, the gap in impairment testing is real, and the drug-policy-reform movement does itself no favors pretending otherwise. Our disagreement is with the leap: from a true premise, that THC impairment testing is inadequate, to the conclusion that the whole plant should stay in the most restricted schedule in federal law. The impairment-testing gap is an argument for building better science, which Schedule I itself has obstructed for more than half a century. Note what his presence does for the coalition, though: the sympathetic witness supplies the moral weight, and the organized interests around him get to stand in it.

July 8: The credentialed physician

Kenneth Finn, MD is a pain-medicine physician who spent his career in Colorado and now practices in Prescott, Arizona, board certified three times over, former president of the American Board of Pain Medicine, and editor of a 2020 Springer volume, "Cannabis in Medicine: An Evidence-Based Approach." He is also a leader of the International Academy on the Science and Impact of Cannabis (IASIC), the physician network that produces and circulates cannabis-harm research and testimony for hearings like this one. He will argue that the science on cannabis harms is stronger than the public believes, the benefit claims weaker, and that dispensary products are not standardized medicine.

What does Dr. Finn stand to gain? Not money, so far as anyone has documented, and calling him a shill would be both unfair and easy to rebut. His function is different: he is a credential provider. Prohibition argued by a lobbyist sounds like prohibition; argued by a triple-boarded pain physician with a Springer textbook, it sounds like medical caution. The honest response is not to attack his credentials but to note two things. First, the selection: many equally credentialed clinicians read the same literature and reach the opposite conclusion, including the federal government's own scientists at HHS, whose review of the evidence is what recommended Schedule III in the first place, and none of them got a chair. Second, the network: IASIC sits inside the same opposition ecosystem as SAM and the rest of this list. Expert testimony that arrives through a movement's pipeline is movement testimony, however good the CV.

July 10: The state police

The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation is the only government law-enforcement agency on the list. Its witness, Erica Stephens, assistant special agent in charge of the Tennessee Dangerous Drugs Task Force, will testify that marijuana deregulation, including hemp legalization, has made enforcement harder, invited criminal organizations into the market, and harmed Tennesseans, and that the rescheduling proposal "overlooks or ignores substantial evidence."

What does TBI stand to gain? Follow the structure. TBI's task force manages Tennessee's marijuana eradication program with funding from DEA grants. A state police agency whose drug mission and grant streams are built around prohibition is testifying, in a DEA proceeding, for keeping prohibition. Nobody needs to act in bad faith for that incentive to matter; institutions defend their missions. And one point in its testimony deserves to be taken seriously rather than scored: police are right that hemp legalization made marijuana enforcement a mess. Products are indistinguishable, labs are overwhelmed, prosecutions falter. But the difficulty of policing a plant is evidence about the policy, not just an argument for restoring the ban.

July 13: The pharmacist who lost his sister

Phillip A. Drum, PharmD is a California clinical pharmacist, more than thirty years licensed, with a doctorate from UCSF. His sister Rosemary was killed by a driver reported to have been impaired by marijuana, and that loss is the stated origin of his research on cannabis-impaired driving, including published analyses of fatal-crash data and a 2015 study arguing that blood-testing delays undermine DUI enforcement. He is the second of the two individual medical voices, and in one witness he combines what Finn and Wood each bring separately: clinical credentials and a victim's standing. He also connects back to the same IASIC network as Finn, where his speaker biography appears.

What does he stand to gain? Like Wood, nothing we can document, and the same respect applies. The same reply applies too: the impairment-testing gap is real, and it is an argument for research, not for Schedule I. It is worth saying twice, because it is the hinge of the whole hearing: the schedule these witnesses are defending is the single biggest reason the science they say we lack does not exist.

July 14: The attorneys general

The states of Nebraska, Idaho, and Indiana close the hearing as a joint participant, three Republican attorneys general offering the state-sovereignty case. Louisiana was originally the fourth, and withdrew. On June 24, 2026 it moved to withdraw as a designated party, and Chief ALJ Derek Julius granted the motion on June 25, writing that Louisiana thereby "waives its status as a person entitled to a hearing" and may no longer file or be heard in the matter. Their prehearing brief argues that marijuana causes psychiatric harm and is linked to homelessness, traffic accidents, trafficking, and crime, and their real argument is a firewall claim: that rescheduling medical marijuana will accelerate adult-use legalization. Their witnesses are notable. Deepak Cyril D'Souza, director of the Yale Center for the Science of Cannabis and Cannabinoids, will testify on abuse liability and mental-health risks, and Humboldt County, California Sheriff William Honsal will testify that legalization expanded rather than eliminated the illicit market.

Be precise about who is actually doing what, because the coverage often is not. The hearing bloc is three states. The related D.C. Circuit lawsuit was filed by three (Nebraska, Indiana, Louisiana), and Louisiana withdrew from that petition too, leaving two active litigants. Idaho never sued at all. So Louisiana has now walked away from both fights, the lawsuit and the hearing. And Louisiana, alone among the four, runs its own state medical-cannabis program. The state with the most to lose from Schedule I is the one that left. What do the AGs stand to gain? This is politics, not commerce: a values signal to their base and a federalism fight that fits these offices' broader litigation posture. They supply what no advocacy group can, the standing and authority of governments, and they are the participants most likely to carry this fight into the courts no matter what the judge recommends.

The room, assembled

Step back and look at the design. An industry with a nine-figure revenue stream defended by mandatory testing. A dark-money hub with $23 million banked while it bankrolls recriminalization campaigns. A physician network to supply the credentials. Two grieving private citizens to supply the moral weight. A police agency to supply the badge. Four attorneys general to supply the flag. Each chair fills a gap in the others' case: money, science, grief, force, and sovereignty, seated together, cross-examining no one but the government.

That is not a hearing in any sense your civics teacher would recognize. It is a record under construction, built by one side, for use in the litigation and rulemaking to come. The seven are not equally culpable and not equally motivated, and we have tried to be honest about which is which. But they are playing one coordinated position, and the public, the patients, the growers, the 92 percent, are not on the field.

The plant belongs to the commons. The room, this month, belongs to the fence.

This piece draws on Drug Policy Watch's intelligence dossiers on each participant, part of a larger sourced suite on the money and networks around cannabis policy. Our earlier piece on the empty chairs and the money behind the hearing is in the Beyond the Headlines: Follow the Money: The June 29 Hearing. Every factual claim above is sourced below; the "what they stand to gain" readings are our editorial analysis of those facts, labeled as such.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Every factual claim is documented in the sources above; the "what they stand to gain" readings are editorial analysis of those facts, labeled as such. Independent journalism and analysis, not legal advice.

The Room Where the Fences Converge

Correction, July 12, 2026. An earlier version of this piece described the attorneys general at the DEA hearing as a four-state bloc including Louisiana. That is wrong. Louisiana moved to withdraw as a designated party on June 24, 2026, and Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius granted the motion on June 25, writing that Louisiana thereby "waives its status as a person entitled to a hearing." The hearing bloc is three states: Nebraska, Idaho and Indiana. We published on July 9 and 10 and missed an order issued two weeks earlier. The error was ours. Louisiana had already withdrawn from the parallel D.C. Circuit petition, so it has now left both fights, and it is the only one of the four that runs its own medical cannabis program. (Order of Chief ALJ Julius, June 25, 2026; reported by The Marijuana Herald.)

The government spent this week in an Arlington hearing room arguing that marijuana is medicine. That is the good news. The harder question, the one no witness was allowed to raise, is who will be permitted to grow it, sell it, and own its genetics once the fight is over.

There is a hearing happening right now in a federal building in Arlington, Virginia, and almost no one is allowed to watch it. No livestream. No video feed. No public audio. If you want to know what is being said about the future of the cannabis plant in the United States, you have to physically stand in line outside the Drug Enforcement Administration by 7 in the morning and hope you are one of the few admitted before the doors close. On the third day, the administrative law judge barred public attendees after 8:50 a.m., a cutoff that had not been announced (Cat Packer, Drug Policy Alliance, in Marijuana Moment).

The hearing began June 29 and must conclude no later than July 15. Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius presides (Marijuana Moment). It will decide whether marijuana, as the Controlled Substances Act defines it, moves from Schedule I, the category for drugs with no accepted medical use, to Schedule III. That is the whole formal question. It is smaller than it sounds, and the reasons it is smaller are the reasons this piece exists.

What actually happened in the room

Something strange is unfolding, and it is worth saying plainly because it cuts against fifty years of expectation. The federal government is arguing that cannabis is medicine, and it is doing so forcefully.

The Department of Justice is the proponent. Its first witness, Dr. Dominic Chiapperino, who directs the Controlled Substances Section at the FDA, testified that marijuana has a currently accepted medical use and a lower abuse potential than alcohol and opioids, and he walked the court through the HHS analysis that found accepted medical use for anorexia, nausea, and pain (Marijuana Moment; Filter). The second witness, Dr. Corey Burchman, a New Hampshire pain physician, moved from the science to the clinic and described transitioning patients off opioids and onto cannabis.

Because the DEA barred cameras and any livestream, what the public gets of that testimony is secondhand, filtered through the reporters and attorneys allowed in the room. By the account of the neutral cannabis press, Burchman told the court that once medical cannabis was available he and his colleagues would "avidly use that ability to limit opioids," and that some patients came off prescription painkillers entirely. His sharpest line drew the contrast plainly. "Withdrawal from opioids is like a dumpster fire," he said. "Withdrawal from marijuana is more like a dying glowing ember of a campfire" (Marijuana Moment; High Times). Hold that against a colder fact: every one of the seven outside participants the DEA selected to take part opposes rescheduling (Cannabis Business Times). The government is arguing for the plant. The invited public is arguing against it. That is the actual shape of the room.

The chair that was left empty

Cat Packer of the Drug Policy Alliance sat in that room for two days and was turned away on the third. Her account is the one to read alongside the testimony, because she was watching for a different thing: not what was said, but who was never allowed to say anything.

By the neutral cannabis press's account, the DEA denied participant status to the Drug Policy Alliance, NORML, the Marijuana Policy Project, the Cannabis Regulators of Color Coalition, the Latino Cannabis Alliance, Law Enforcement Action Partnership, Doctors for Drug Policy Reform, the Parabola Center, Supernova Women, and Students for Sensible Drug Policy. Only the seven opponents can present witnesses, introduce evidence, and cross-examine the government; their own witnesses, still to come, include Harvard's Bertha Madras and Yale's Deepak Cyril D'Souza (High Times). As Packer writes, when the people most affected by federal marijuana policy are excluded, the record itself narrows. There was no testimony on the harms of criminalization, none on the racial disparities in enforcement, none on the Nixon-era Shafer Commission's own recommendation against criminalizing possession (Shafer Commission report, 1972). This was true even though, when the public was invited to comment on rescheduling, a peer-reviewed analysis in the journal Addiction found that 92.4 percent of more than 42,000 comments supported removing cannabis from Schedule I (Johns Hopkins). The overwhelming public majority has a seat nowhere in the room.

Hold those two accounts together and you have the honest picture. A doctor gave real and moving testimony about real patients. And the proceeding was built so that only one narrow argument, the medical-use question, could be heard at all.

Read the fine print: this is already half done

Here is the part the headlines blur, and it matters for everything that follows.

The rescheduling of medical cannabis has already happened. On April 22, 2026, Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche signed a final order moving FDA-approved marijuana medications and marijuana produced by state-licensed, DEA-registered medical operators into Schedule III; the order was published in the Federal Register and took effect on April 28, 2026 (Gibson Dunn; Federal Register; Congressional Research Service). That order is final. It is not what this hearing is reconsidering. As Packer puts it, those decisions are done, and everything else that falls within the federal definition of marijuana remains in Schedule I. The Arlington hearing is the fight over that everything else, and it is running alongside a set of legal challenges to the April order, now consolidated before the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit (Marijuana Moment).

You can already see the doors this opened. For decades, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office refused cannabis trademarks because the goods were not lawful under federal law. The April move to Schedule III changed that overnight, and cannabis attorneys said so plainly: rescheduling opens a narrow but real path to federal trademark registration for state-licensed medical products, and it makes cannabis patents easier to enforce in federal court, where the illegality defense had blocked earlier suits (Banner Witcoff; Kean Miller). The medical lane has been formalized. The genetics and the chemistry are now easier to fence. The hearing decides who else gets in.

The tell: pocketbook interests

If you want to know what this is really about, read what the government itself said this week. In its July 3 filing in the D.C. Circuit litigation, the DOJ argued that the drug-testing industry and a pharmaceutical company opposing rescheduling are defending their "pocketbook interests," not the public (Marijuana Moment). The Justice Department, arguing for the plant, named the machine of prohibition as a set of businesses protecting revenue.

You can see that machine flexing in real time. On June 29, the day the hearing opened, a coalition led by the American Trucking Associations wrote to Blanche, DEA Administrator Terrance Cole, HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., and Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, warning of "serious safety concerns" and asking the agencies to guarantee that truck drivers, pilots, and other safety-sensitive workers keep getting tested for cannabis (Marijuana Moment). Their worry is procedural and revealing: federal workplace testing is anchored to a 1986 Reagan executive order that defines illegal drugs as Schedule I and II (Executive Order 12564, U.S. National Archives), so moving cannabis to Schedule III could unwind the legal scaffolding the testing regime is built on. The House Appropriations Committee has already moved to preserve testing "regardless of any future changes to the legal status or scheduling" (Marijuana Moment). A whole industry exists to test for this plant, and it is lobbying to keep the requirement even as the government reclassifies the thing being tested. That is what a pocketbook interest looks like when it is frightened.

While the top of the plant is medicalized, the bottom is being fenced

Now widen the lens, because the hearing is only one front. This is the pattern we have documented for months at Drug Policy Watch, and it is repeating on schedule.

As the medical and corporate lane opens at the top, the ordinary person's access is being closed off at the bottom, and New England is where you can watch it happen this year.

In Massachusetts, a measure is on track to reach the November 3, 2026 ballot that would repeal legal recreational sales and, crucially, repeal the right to grow cannabis at home. Personal possession would stay decriminalized and the medical program would be untouched, but the licensed adult-use market and home cultivation would end (Ballotpedia; Bloomberg Law). The Secretary of State certified 78,301 signatures in December 2025, and the state's high court rejected a challenge to keep it off the ballot (NBC Boston). Public support is thin, around 20 percent in a February University of New Hampshire poll, but it is advancing anyway, and ballot measures with committed money behind them do not need majorities to reshape a debate.

Maine's version of the same idea would also end the commercial adult-use market and repeal home cultivation while sparing medical, and it also failed to gather signatures in time for 2026, so its committee is now aiming at November 2027 (Marijuana Moment; Ballotpedia).

Look at what both measures share. They do not touch the medical channel or the possession of a small amount. They target two things specifically: the legal open market, and the right to grow your own. That second one is the purest form of the commons. Growing a plant for yourself is the one thing no company can charge you for. It is the rail that, if protected, makes full enclosure impossible, which is exactly why it is the rail being pulled.

Who is paying, and why it is hard to see

The money behind these two fights is not a mystery to us, because we traced it through the filings.

Both committees are funded, as sole or dominant donor, by SAM Action Inc., the 501(c)(4) arm of Smart Approaches to Marijuana, which by law does not disclose its donors. Its 2024 IRS Form 990 reports $8,601,743 in contributions, a jump of about 445 percent from $1.58 million the year before, and it sits on roughly $23 million in net assets while spending only about $1.17 million in the year (figures from SAM Action's 2024 Form 990 via ProPublica Nonprofit Explorer; committee totals from state campaign-finance filings). That is a war chest being stocked, not a campaign being run lean. From it, SAM Action has put roughly $1.55 million as sole funder into the Massachusetts committee, the Coalition for a Healthy Massachusetts, and about $2.0 million as sole donor into the Maine committee, Mainers for a Safe and Healthy Future.

The structural detail worth sitting with is who keeps the Massachusetts committee's books. Its treasurer is Charles Gantt, of Bulldog Compliance, who through that firm and its parent, Red Curve Solutions, is also the named treasurer of a pro-Trump super PAC, Make America Great Again, Again! Inc. The same firm keeps the books for both the recriminalization committee and a super PAC in the president's orbit. We can see the money go out. By the design of the 501(c)(4), we cannot see who put it in.

And do not forget the calendar. The federal hemp ban under Section 781 of P.L. 119-37 takes effect November 12, 2026, using a total-THC accounting method and a cap of 0.4 milligrams of total THC per container, which by one industry estimate would clear roughly 95 percent of current hemp-derived products off the shelves (Vicente LLP). The cheapest, most accessible, most decentralized corner of the market disappears nine days after the Massachusetts vote.

Who will own the plant

This is where the week's threads tie together, and it is the question underneath all the others.

If cannabis becomes ordinary medicine and ordinary commerce, then the ordinary rules of ownership apply, and those rules were built for enclosure. You do not control a plant by owning a dispensary. You control it by owning its genetics and its chemistry.

That work is already well underway. In January 2026, Aurora Cannabis, a Canadian company, secured European Union Community Plant Variety Rights over two of its proprietary cannabis varieties, and on May 14, 2026 it won Canadian Plant Breeders' Rights over two cultivars developed at its research facility (Cannabis Business Times; Cannabis Business Times). Those rights give one company exclusive control over the propagation and sale of those genetics across an entire continent. In the United States, this is not new either. Back in 2019, Charlotte's Web obtained U.S. Plant Patent PP30,639 over a hemp cultivar it calls CW2A, one of the first plant patents granted for a hemp strain, with company co-founder Joel Stanley listed as its inventor (Leafly; Sterne Kessler; U.S. Plant Patent PP30,639).

There are three tools for this, and they escalate in power. Plant patents cover a single asexually reproduced clone and are narrow. Utility patents are the strong ones, because they can claim a plant by its genetic sequences or its chemical ratios rather than by name, and can bar cross-breeding and seed-saving. And Plant Variety Protection, issued by the USDA, covers stable seed, available for hemp and not yet for marijuana. A utility patent that claims a range of cannabinoid ratios does not fence one strain. It fences a region of the plant's chemistry, and every plant that happens to fall inside it.

The medical model accelerates all of this, because it rewards the standardized, patented, single-formulation product. The clearest example arrived in Europe last month. Vertanical's Exilby became the first cannabis medicine approved in Europe for chronic low back pain, cleared by Germany's BfArM on June 9, 2026, with a launch planned this fall. Its underlying drug, VER-01, holds an FDA Breakthrough Therapy Designation granted May 18, 2026, one of the very few cannabis products ever to earn that kind of FDA recognition, after Epidiolex in 2018 (PR Newswire). It is a whole-plant extract, standardized to a fixed ratio of THC, CBD, and CBG, and it is patent-protected. It shows that a botanical, whole-plant drug can win FDA recognition. The question DPW keeps asking is what happens to everyone else's access to the same plant once one company's version of it becomes the approved, ownable, reimbursable one.

None of this requires a synthetic molecule. Every rail here fences the plant itself.

The seat nobody funds

Here is the throughline, the one Elinor Ostrom spent her life documenting: shared resources can be governed well by the communities that depend on them, right up until someone draws a legal line around the resource and turns common access into a private toll. Enclosure is not a metaphor we reach for because it sounds literary. It is the specific, repeatable legal move that fenced the English commons, then seeds, then genes, and is now being run on cannabis in plain view.

What makes this moment unusual is that all of it is visible at once. In one week you can watch the government argue that the plant is medicine, watch a testing industry lobby to keep policing it, watch two New England states move to criminalize growing it at home, watch dark money fund those campaigns, and watch companies on two continents patent its genetics. These are not separate stories. They are one process with many hands.

And there is a chair at the table that has been empty since 2019, when the Open Cannabis Project, the main effort to publish cannabis strain genetics as public-domain prior art, dissolved (Cannabis Business Times). It is the seat for putting cannabis genetics into the public domain, the way open-source seed projects blunt agricultural patents by publishing genetics no one can then claim. Nobody funds that seat. Prohibitionists fund the fight to keep the plant illegal. Multi-state operators fund the fight to own it once it is legal. Almost no one funds the fight to keep it free.

The fence is not inevitable. Every rail has a counter-move. Publish the genetics and a category of patents becomes unenforceable. Open the formulation and keep it open: insulin's discoverers sold their patent to the University of Toronto for one dollar in 1923 so no one could own it (the one-dollar patent), yet insulin is costly today, re-fenced by decades of patents on tweaked molecules, formulations, and delivery devices, a tactic called evergreening (peer-reviewed analysis). The lesson is that opening a medicine once is not enough; the follow-on patents have to be blocked too. Protect the simplest right of all, the right to grow a plant for yourself, and full enclosure becomes impossible. That last one is on a ballot in Massachusetts this November. It is worth knowing that before you vote.

The plant belongs to the commons. Watch who is building the fence.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We source every claim in this piece and link to the primary records, because accuracy is the whole point of this work. If you are named here, or you find anything you believe is inaccurate, tell us. We will review it against the record and correct any error promptly and in plain view. Reach us through drugpolicywatch.info, or email contact@drugpolicywatch.info.

Every factual claim is documented and linked in the sources above. Independent journalism and analysis, not legal advice.

The Duty of Freedom

What the Fourth of July asks of us

Two hundred and fifty years ago this month, a group of colonists wrote down a dangerous idea: that people hold certain rights no king gets to hand out, or take back. The Declaration of Independence, adopted on July 4, 1776, called them unalienable, and named three by way of example, Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. The word unalienable is the whole argument. It means these rights were never the crown's to grant, so they were never the crown's to revoke. You do not need permission to be free. You already are. What the government owes you is protection of that freedom, not a license fee for it.

We read the Declaration of Independence every summer and let it wash over us like water. It is worth stopping on one word, unalienable. The colonists' first and loudest grievance was a tax, imposed by a distant power that gave them no vote in the matter. Taxation without representation. Two and a half centuries later the machinery is quieter, but the feeling is familiar. Communities today are squeezed by taxes, fees, fines, licenses, and permits, each one small, all of them together adding up to a sense that you are renting your own life, hemmed in by fences built by hands you never got to vote on. That squeeze is not a side issue. It is the founders' entire argument replayed today.

Because the fight the founders picked was, at heart, a fight about enclosure, the theft of the commons and what belonged to the community. An unchosen authority had drawn fences around things that belonged to ordinary people: their labor, their trade, their say in the laws that bound them, and then called the fences legitimate, called them the law, and made crossing them a crime. The colonists answered that a fence is not lawful simply because a powerful office drew it.

That is the thread I pull on in my work protecting the commons, and Independence Day is the right day to say it plainly.

Elinor Ostrom won the Nobel Prize in economics, the first woman to do it, for a finding that should be on a wall in every home. The old assumption was that a commons is doomed: people overuse what no one owns until it collapses, so the only choices are the state or the private fence. Ostrom looked at real communities and proved it false. Give people the right to make and enforce their own rules, and they protect what they share for generations. The commons is not a tragedy, and it is not unowned or unmanaged. It is owned by the community it serves and managed by the terms the community sets. It is a responsibility, and we are built to carry it, and morally obligated to protect it. It belongs to our children, and their children. Not to a corporation, behind a fence you can only cross by paying a toll.

Put the Declaration of Independence and Ostrom side by side and you have the logic of this piece. Some things belong to all of us. A plant that grew wild on this continent before there was a patent office belongs to all of us, and so does the knowledge of how to use it. As does water, seed, and sunlight. That right is closer to unalienable than to licensable. When a distant authority fences it off with statutes, patents, and paperwork only the largest players can afford to clear, the honest word for that fence is not safety. It is enclosure, it is theft by paperwork. It is not being done for the community. It is being done to the community.

This is where Independence Day stops being a costume party and becomes an instruction.

The people who signed in 1776 were underdogs against the empire they defied. They had a printing press, a network of neighbors, arguments they believed were true, and a willingness to collectively fight for what was theirs. We are not so different. We do not have the budget of the fence builders. We have public records, primary sources, truth, a plant older than the paperwork, and a community willing to read carefully and act. David has stood in this spot before, and he did not lose.

Two Americans I think often about keep us honest about what being a patriot truly requires. Henry David Thoreau, writing in 1849 in the essay we now call Civil Disobedience, insisted that a citizen owes a higher loyalty to conscience than to any unjust law, and that the machinery of an unjust arrangement runs only as long as decent people agree to feed it. And Harriet Tubman, who did not write essays but bravely walked the argument into the dark again and again, showed what it looks like to decide that a wrongful fence has no authority over a human being, and then to act boldly as if that is simply true, because it is. May her lantern light our path in the dark, my dear fellow Americans.

Independence was never a finished monument. It was a promise and an idea, written in a hurry and under threat, by people who did not fully live up to it, and it has been getting completed ever since by everyone who took it seriously enough to protect, and extend it. The commons is part of that unfinished promise. What belongs to all of us is worth naming, worth watching, and worth protecting for the children who will inherit it, including mine and yours.

So here is the ask: When you see a fence, do not walk past it. Ask the two questions that built this country: who dare put this here, and why. Ask them out loud, and ask them in public. Out loud, in public, is the brave part. Teach your children to never stop asking.

The commons is not a gift. It is an inheritance we are entrusted to defend.

The National Anthem calls this the land of the free and the home of the brave. It is one promise, not two. It stays free only as long as we stay brave enough to keep it unfenced.

A fence is not lawful just because someone powerful built it. That was true in 1776. It is true now. That dangerous idea is 250 years old, and it is still ours to finish.

We, The People, still have a say. Happy 250th, America. Now let us be worthy of her.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. We source every claim in this piece and link to the primary records, because accuracy is the whole point of this work. If you find anything you believe is inaccurate, tell us. We will review it against the record and correct any error promptly and in plain view. Reach us through drugpolicywatch.info, or email contact@drugpolicywatch.info.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. "Drug Policy Watch"™ is a trademark. See Terms & License.

Every factual claim is documented and linked in the sources above. Independent journalism and analysis, not legal advice.

Nebraska Voters Approved Medical Marijuana. Its Officials Are Fighting It at Home and in DC.

Correction, July 12, 2026. An earlier version of this piece described the attorneys general at the DEA hearing as a four-state bloc including Louisiana. That is wrong. Louisiana moved to withdraw as a designated party on June 24, 2026, and Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius granted the motion on June 25, writing that Louisiana thereby "waives its status as a person entitled to a hearing." The hearing bloc is three states: Nebraska, Idaho and Indiana. We published on July 9 and 10 and missed an order issued two weeks earlier. The error was ours. Louisiana had already withdrawn from the parallel D.C. Circuit petition, so it has now left both fights, and it is the only one of the four that runs its own medical cannabis program. (Order of Chief ALJ Julius, June 25, 2026; reported by The Marijuana Herald.)

One Office, Three Fences. Part one of a two-part series; part two reports the DEA hearing testimony and what it means after the record closes, on or before July 15. A diagnosis aimed at offices and acts, never at any person. Every claim carries its source.

In November 2024, Nebraskans did a rare and deliberate thing. By roughly 71 percent and 67 percent, they passed two ballot measures, Initiative 437 and Initiative 438, that legalized medical cannabis and built a commission to regulate it (Nebraska Examiner; 2024 Nebraska Initiative 437). A supermajority in a conservative state wrote a new common right into law: sick people could use this plant, and a public body would govern how.

What has happened in the twenty months since is a case study in how a public vote gets fenced in. Not overturned, not yet. Narrowed. The pattern is not unique to Nebraska or to cannabis, which is why it is worth learning to read. What follows is less a Nebraska story than a way to read one.

The clearest way to learn the pattern is to watch a single fortnight in the summer of 2026, when the same offices that had spent a year and a half contesting this program stood up its rules, argued in court to void it, and prepared to argue in Washington that the federal ground beneath it should not move. One public. One plant. Three fences going up at once.

The fortnight

A handful of days in late June and early July tell the story.

On June 22, 2026, the Nebraska Medical Cannabis Commission greenlit the first legal cannabis planting in state history, clearing a small number of licensed cultivators to put seeds in the ground (Nebraska Examiner).

On June 30, 2026, Attorney General Mike Hilgers certified the constitutionality of the Commission's regulations, the last legal hurdle before the Governor. He wrote that "the medical cannabis regulations do not clearly violate the state or federal Constitutions on their face," and, in the same document, that "my review of the medical cannabis regulations does not imply my support for or opposition to the regulations as a policy matter" (Nebraska AG signing statement, June 30, 2026; Marijuana Moment).

On July 1, 2026, Governor Jim Pillen approved the permanent rules, which take effect five days after they are filed with the Secretary of State (Office of Governor Jim Pillen; WOWT).

And within the same stretch, the one move the public still had to widen the opening failed. A citizen initiative to write a constitutional right to use "all plants in the genus Cannabis" for adults twenty-one and older did not gather enough valid signatures by the state deadline and will not appear on the November 2026 ballot. It was the fifth recreational attempt since 2018, and like the four before it, it did not qualify (Ballotpedia); Ballotpedia News).

Read together, the fortnight is not a contradiction. It is a structure. The same apparatus that let the first plants go in the ground is narrowing what can be grown, who can grow it, and who can reach it.

The three fences of one office

The Attorney General's office is a party to all three.

The first fence is the certification itself, and the language around it. The office signed off that the rules do not facially violate the constitution, while stating plainly that the signature implies no support. It went further. It warned that Nebraska is exposed in a way most states are not, noting that "Congress did not include Nebraska on the list of States for which the United States Department of Justice cannot prosecute medical-marijuana-related crimes in its most recent appropriation rider," and that this exclusion "may give rise to an inference that Congress does not intend to exempt Nebraska's medical marijuana regime from federal law's reach" (Nebraska AG signing statement). The certification approves the program while marking, in the office's own words, the federal cliff it stands near.

The second fence is in the courts. Former state senator John Kuehn is asking the Nebraska Supreme Court to throw out the 2024 measures on the ground that notarial and circulator fraud tainted the petition signatures that put them on the ballot; Secretary of State Bob Evnen and the Attorney General's office have taken the challenger's side rather than defend the vote (Nebraska Examiner). One Grand Island circulator pleaded guilty to forging signatures, and the challengers argue that fraud by a notary should invalidate every signature that notary processed, potentially tens of thousands of them. The court heard argument on December 3, 2025, and as of the June 30 certification it had not ruled, more than two hundred days later. If the challengers prevail, the sponsors must prove 86,499 valid signatures per petition; they filed with a margin of 6,822 above the requirement. A ruling for the challengers could void both measures despite the 71 and 67 percent votes (1011now; Nebraska Examiner).

A separate appeal, argued April 27, 2026, presses the distinct claim that federal law preempts the state program entirely (Nebraska Examiner). Two tracks, one aim: undo the vote.

The third fence is federal, and it is where the state fence-builder takes the argument national. The DEA is holding a hearing, from June 29 to no later than July 15, 2026, on whether to move marijuana to Schedule III, and it seated seven opponents to argue against the change. One of the seven is a bloc of attorneys general, Nebraska, Idaho, and Indiana, scheduled to present on July 14 (Louisiana was the fourth, and withdrew as a designated party on June 25, 2026) with witnesses including Yale's Deepak Cyril D'Souza and Humboldt County Sheriff William Honsal (Drug Policy Watch, Who Got a Seat; testimony schedule per the ALJ order). Their argument is not about health. It is federalism and slippery slope: that rescheduling oversteps federal administrative law and treaty obligations and will speed adult-use legalization. In the parallel litigation, the live petitioners in the D.C. Circuit are Nebraska and Indiana; Louisiana withdrew from the petition in late May 2026 and from the DEA hearing itself on June 25, 2026, and Idaho is in the hearing bloc but not on the petition (MJBizDaily). The office that certified Nebraska's medical rules at home is, in the same season, arguing in Washington that the federal reclassification which would ease those rules is unlawful.

Approve the program at home, litigate to void it in the state's own court, and fight the federal change that would let it breathe. Three fences, one office, and a public vote in the middle.

How high the fence is

A program can be legal on paper and still be built so tight that little passes through. Nebraska's is. On our 50-state matrix, Nebraska scores a 5 out of 5 for enclosure pressure, the top of the scale, on the live July 9, 2026 reading. An earlier state brief scored it 4; a July 9 re-scoring, which treats a state with no operating legal market as fully enclosed, raised it to 5. Here is what the number is made of.

The rules cap the plant. A cultivator may grow no more than 1,250 flowering plants, and vertical integration is prohibited, so no operator can hold more than one license type or combine cultivation, manufacturing, and retail (Marijuana Moment; cann.dev).

The rules cap the store. There are no more than twelve dispensary licenses, allocated across the state's twelve judicial districts, which concentrates whatever market emerges into a handful of outlets clustered around Omaha and Lincoln (Marijuana Moment).

The rules cap the owner. At least 51 percent of a licensee must be held by United States citizens who have been Nebraska residents for at least four years, a wall that fences out multistate operators and most outside capital (cann.dev).

The rules cap the product. Reporting on the adopted rules describes a ban on smoking and vaping products and on edibles, a five ounce limit per thirty days, of which no more than five grams may be delta-9 THC from a single dispensary (Marijuana Moment). The 2024 measures authorize no home cultivation, so a patient cannot grow a plant to fill the gap (Marijuana Policy Project).

And the rules leave the doctor exposed, breaking the pattern on purpose. The Attorney General has said he will review professional-licensing complaints against practitioners who recommend cannabis, which advocates say has chilled the in-state physician pool that patients need to qualify (Nebraska Examiner).

This is not a competitive market with a few rough edges. It is, in our reading, a scarcity design: a small number of in-state, capitalized license holders growing a capped crop, selling a narrow set of products through a dozen doors, to patients who must first find one of a shrinking number of willing physicians.

Who is fenced out

Every fence names the people on the far side of it. The residency and single-license-type rules favor established in-state money over the undercapitalized, the out-of-state operator, and the new entrant. The one-dispensary-per-district cap leaves most of rural Nebraska out by geography. The product ban excludes patients whose needs do not fit a narrow list of forms. The no-home-grow rule shuts out anyone who would simply grow their own rather than wait for a distant, expensive store. The chilled physician pool leaves patients who cannot find a doctor willing to sign.

A wider fence is coming for a different group entirely. On November 12, 2026, a federal redefinition of hemp caps finished consumable products at a trace level of total THC, which will foreclose most of the intoxicating hemp products now sold in Nebraska smoke shops and gas stations. Because Nebraska built no state framework to legalize or regulate those products, there is no domestic structure to soften the landing (Congressional Research Service; Vicente LLP).

How to see it coming

Enclosure of a commons rarely arrives as an outright ban. A ban is loud, and people fight it. Enclosure arrives as procedure: licensing rules, ownership thresholds, product lists, and buffer zones, each step defensible on its own, each announced as safety or standards or order, and the sum of them a wall around a thing a public was promised it could share. No single board looks like a fence; the wall is only visible as a whole.

Six questions separate a real opening from a fenced one. Who is allowed to produce it, and does the rule favor incumbents and insiders over newcomers and outsiders? How many are allowed to sell it, and where, and does the cap concentrate the market in a few hands? Which forms are permitted, and does a narrow list shrink the real market to a sliver? Can an ordinary person supply themselves, or has self-provision, the home garden, the small maker, been quietly removed? Are the professionals who serve the public protected in doing so, or exposed to complaint and sanction until they stop? And the tell at the top: do the same officials who build the fence at home also defend it in the courts and in federal rulemaking, so that the state and national moves point the same way? When they do, the fence is a strategy, not an accident. That is enclosure by convergence.

Nebraska answers all six the way an enclosed commons does. The next boards go up in public over the coming days: the July 14 testimony in Arlington, where the three-state bloc will argue federalism and the fear that legalization will spread rather than medicine or patients; the Nebraska Supreme Court, weighing whether a supermajority vote can be undone on the validity of signatures; November 12, when the federal hemp cap lands on a state that built nothing to catch it; and the professional-licensing complaints, the quietest fence of all, because a program with no doctors willing to sign is a right on paper and nothing in a clinic.

The threshold

The fence in Nebraska is nearly finished, and the first plants are only now in the ground inside it. The 71 and 67 percent votes have not been repealed. They have been narrowed by rule and contested in court, but as of this writing the measures are law and certified patients may possess up to five ounces (Nebraska Examiner). A mandate that a supermajority wrote is a standing public claim, and it does not vanish because the offices charged with carrying it out have contested it at every turn.

What the record shows, plainly and from public documents, is a public that opened a commons and a set of offices spending two years fencing it back in, at home and in Washington, on the same days. Every fence named here was built by a rule or a lawsuit, which means every one of them can be lowered by a rule or a ruling.

We will be in the record when it happens. Part two, after the hearing closes, will report what was argued in that room, whether the pattern held, and what it means for everyone on the far side of the fence.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common, an independent, non-captured tracker of cannabis, hemp, and psychedelic policy across the federal government and all fifty states. A longtime patient-access advocate, she follows the money and the paperwork to show how the plant is being fenced off, and how to keep it in the commons. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy, sourced intelligence, and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

Corrections. July 12, 2026: corrected the DEA hearing bloc from four states to three. Louisiana withdrew as a designated party on June 25, 2026. See the correction note at the top of this piece. To flag an error, write contact@drugpolicywatch.info.

License. This article is free to share and adapt for non-commercial purposes, with credit, under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. "Drug Policy Watch"™ is a trademark. See Terms & License.

Every factual claim is documented and linked inline in the text above. Independent journalism and analysis, not legal advice.

The Strangest Bet in Weed

Correction, July 13, 2026. An earlier version of this piece dated the DOJ and DEA final rule to April 23, 2026. The Acting Attorney General signed it on April 22, 2026. It was published in the Federal Register on April 28 and took effect that day. The error was ours and it appeared in three of our pieces. It changes no argument here. (91 FR 22714; see our corrections log.)

Cannabis companies are spending millions to win the one thing that could sink them. Here is the trap, the players, the money, and what the government's own drug strategy reveals, in plain English.

The biggest cannabis companies in America are fighting hard for a change most people would call progress: moving marijuana into a friendlier legal category called Schedule III. It promises lower taxes, a path to the stock market, and a stamp of legitimacy.

Here is the part nobody says out loud. The same door that lets them out of one trap may lock them inside a worse one. To see why, you have to start with a treaty almost no one talks about.

The 65-year-old rule that runs everything

In 1961, the United States signed the UN Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs Treaty (the Single Convention for short). It is still in force, and one sentence in it does most of the work: every country must limit cannabis "exclusively to medical and scientific purposes" (Article 4(c)).

That is the whole game. Medical cannabis can fit inside a box the Single Convention allows. Recreational cannabis, by definition, cannot.

The treaty is not just background. U.S. law ties federal drug scheduling directly to it: 21 U.S.C. 811(d) requires the government to control substances as needed to keep the country in line with its Single Convention obligations. So when people ask why federal cannabis policy bends the way it does, a large part of the answer is a 1961 treaty wired straight into the Controlled Substances Act.

This is why, in April 2026, when the Justice Department moved cannabis from Schedule I (the most restricted tier, alongside heroin) down to Schedule III, it only moved two narrow things: FDA-approved cannabis drugs, and state-licensed medical marijuana. Adult-use weed, the stuff most of the legal market actually sells, was left behind in Schedule I. That was not politics. That was the treaty drawing the line.

The Single Convention does two more things that matter later. It requires the medical supply to run through a tightly licensed, government-controlled channel, with the DEA as gatekeeper. And it caps how much can be produced: each country is supposed to estimate its medical and scientific need and make no more than that. Hold onto those two facts.

A hearing that opened June 29, 2026 inside DEA headquarters will decide whether the rest of the plant follows medical marijuana down to Schedule III. Notably, every outside party the DEA invited to testify opposes the change. But whatever the hearing decides, the treaty already set the shape of the fence.

The money problem driving the whole thing

So why are the big operators pushing so hard? Follow the money. A quick note on who "the big operators" are: in this industry they are called MSOs, multi-state operators, the large companies that grow, process, and sell cannabis across many states. They are the ones with the most debt, the most lobbyists, and the most to gain or lose here.

Start with a tax rule called Section 280E of the federal tax code. It says any business that traffics in a Schedule I or II drug cannot deduct normal expenses like rent, payroll, or marketing. Here is what that means in plain terms: a normal company is taxed on its profit, what is left after expenses. Under 280E a cannabis company is taxed on something much closer to its gross sales. For retail-heavy operators, effective tax rates can exceed 70 percent.

Now add debt. Most of the big MSOs borrowed heavily, and the loans are coming due in a cluster the industry calls a maturity wall (a stretch where a lot of debt matures at once and has to be paid off or replaced). As of spring 2026, of the eight major MSOs examined, only two, Green Thumb and Trulieve, hold more cash than debt (a net-cash position). The other six owe more than they hold (they are net borrowers). Curaleaf owes roughly 459 million dollars net of cash, meaning its total debt minus the cash on hand, per its Q1 2026 SEC filing. Verano, Cresco, Ascend, Jushi, and TerrAscend are all net borrowers too. The interest rates are brutal. Several pay between 11.5 and 12.75 percent, and Curaleaf's borrowing cost jumped from 8 percent in 2021 to 11.5 percent in 2026 on the same kind of loan (senior secured notes). These figures come from the companies' own quarterly filings with the SEC, for the quarter ended March 31, 2026.

And here is the cruelest part. When a normal company drowns in debt, it files Chapter 11 bankruptcy, the federal process that lets a company reorganize what it owes and keep operating. Cannabis companies effectively cannot, because the plant is still federally illegal, so the federal bankruptcy courts are off limits to them. When one fails, it gets sold off fast and cheap to whoever has deeper pockets. Two large operators, Ayr Wellness and Cannabist, have already announced court-supervised wind-downs of exactly that kind.

Put it together: a tax rule (280E) drains your cash, your loans refinance (roll into new loans) at punishing rates, and a missed payment means a fire sale, not a reorganization. Schedule III drugs are not subject to 280E. Move cannabis there, and that tax disappears. For a debt-heavy company, that is close to a matter of survival. That is the engine under the rescheduling fight.

Why the relief is also a moat

But notice who actually benefits. To claim the 280E tax break, an operator has to register with the DEA and take on pharmaceutical-style obligations: clean-room-grade manufacturing standards, federal fees, inspections, and the treaty's government-as-buyer crop rules. The tax cut and a big new compliance bill arrive in the same envelope.

For a large, well-funded company, that is the best kind of win: lower taxes for you, and a wall that smaller competitors cannot climb. The same rules that cut your tax rate price out the craft grower and the single-store shop. The relief and the consolidation are the same event. That is why the legal press keeps calling Schedule III "a win for big players." The structure rewards size and capital.

The trap

Here is where the bet gets strange.

To win the tax fight, the MSOs have to get cannabis into the federal medical system. But "medical" in the federal world is not a vibe. It is a specific thing the FDA controls, and to the FDA, "medicine" means a product that is approved, standardized, and usually patented.

Their flower is none of those things. You know whose products are? Pharmaceutical companies'. Epidiolex, owned by Jazz Pharmaceuticals, is an FDA-approved cannabis drug. And a German firm, Vertanical, earned an FDA "Breakthrough Therapy" designation in May 2026 (a status that speeds review of a promising drug) for a full-spectrum cannabis extract for chronic low back pain, built on a patented plant variety it owns (U.S. Plant Patent 35,380), with further patents covering the extract, the process, and the use.

So the legitimacy the MSOs are chasing is defined by a bar only pharma clears. For years they have lived in one gray area: legal under state law, illegal under federal law, but survivable, because it lets them sell flower today. By driving cannabis into the federal medical lane, the MSOs trade that survivable gray area for a deeper one, where "real" medicine means FDA-approved and patented, and theirs is the "unapproved" version of a drug someone else owns. In rushing to escape one fence, they may be building another around themselves.

The door is too small

It gets sharper. Remember the production cap. Here is how it actually works, because the mechanics are the point.

Under the Controlled Substances Act, the DEA sets an annual aggregate production quota, a national ceiling on how much of a controlled substance may be made each year (21 U.S.C. 826). DEA is supposed to base that ceiling on the estimated legitimate medical, scientific, research, and industrial need, plus lawful exports and a reserve, and it publishes the numbers in the Federal Register. This dovetails with the Single Convention, under which the United States files an annual estimate of its medical and scientific need with the International Narcotics Control Board and is bound to hold production to it (Articles 19 and 21). In short: a federal agency decides, in advance, how much may exist, and it is legally pointed at a small "medical and scientific" target.

Now look at the scale. Historically, the federal government's legal medical and research cannabis supply has been measured in the thousands of kilograms. The state-legal market is a multibillion-dollar industry growing it by the ton. The federally "legitimate" medical channel is a tiny fraction of what the country actually produces.

In other words, the official medical door was never built to fit a plant industry this size. It was built to a pharmacy's scale. The MSOs are pushing to walk through a doorway sized for pills.

Why the state shops cannot just sign up

There is a wall most people miss. Even with rescheduling, you cannot handle a controlled substance without a DEA registration, and registration is not a formality. The CSA says DEA must judge each applicant against the "public interest," including whether the business complies with applicable state and federal law (21 U.S.C. 823). A business that is illegal under federal law cannot satisfy that test. DEA made the same point in its own 2020 rule on growing marijuana for research: a state license is not federal authorization.

The April 22, 2026 order cracked the door for one group only. It created a narrow DEA registration pathway for FDA-approved products and state-licensed medical marijuana, and it treats a state medical license as conclusive evidence of state-law authorization. Adult-use and recreational operators got nothing. They remain in Schedule I and cannot register at all. And even for medical operators, a DEA registration does not deliver full federal legality, because marketing a Schedule III drug product generally requires FDA approval under a separate law (the Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act), and dispensary cannabis is not an FDA-approved drug. So the "win" is a narrow, conditional permission slip, not a clean welcome into the legal economy.

And remember, the 280E tax break only covers the medical side. Recreational cannabis, which is the bigger share of most companies' sales, stays in Schedule I and keeps paying the punishing tax. It also has the least legal cover: the long-standing budget rule that stops the Justice Department from prosecuting state-legal operators protects medical marijuana only, not adult-use. So even the win is half a win, and it is the smaller half.

There is one more twist. Every time the industry campaigns to be treated as legitimate medicine, and every time a company like Vertanical hits a new milestone, the bar for what counts as "real" cannabis medicine rises. The MSOs are helping build the very standard they cannot meet without becoming drug developers themselves.

The longer game

None of this is an accident. The MSOs' plan, read from their own public moves, runs in steps.

First, escape the gray zone and look legitimate. Second, use that to reach the stock market and cheaper money. Trulieve uplisted (moved its stock from the small over-the-counter market up to a major exchange) to the New York Stock Exchange in June 2026, trading as TRLV from June 10, billing itself as the first US plant-touching cannabis operator to do so. Third, buy up the failing competitors on the cheap as the debt squeeze takes them down. Fourth, become the platform that big tobacco and alcohol money rolls up if cannabis is ever fully legalized, money that is already staged through companies like Canopy (in which Constellation Brands holds a large stake) and Cronos (in which Altria holds a large stake).

Through all of it, the founders keep control. The biggest operators use special "super-voting" shares that let a handful of people steer the company while owning only a small economic slice of it, and in June 2026 Curaleaf voted to remove the automatic sunset that would have ended that arrangement once it listed on a US exchange.

It is a coherent MSO plan. The flaw is that the financial logic pushes them straight through a door built to a scale they cannot fit.

The tobacco flank: a quieter version of the same move

There is a second lane where the same game is playing out, with a tobacco giant attached.

British American Tobacco, the maker of Camel and Newport, now owns about 40 percent of Charlotte's Web, the CBD brand born from the famous hemp story. The deal closed in May 2026, converted the company's main convertible debenture (about 75 million Canadian dollars of debt) into equity, and put two BAT people on its board, including the general counsel of BAT's US tobacco arm, Reynolds American. BAT also holds a large stake in a Canadian cannabis company and a piece of a venture trying to push a hemp-derived drug through the FDA. It is not betting on legal weed the way others are. It is buying the already-legal, compliant, FDA-friendly lanes: wellness CBD, pharma development, regulated markets abroad. Same pharmaceutical-shaped channel, approached from the hemp side.

And Charlotte's Web is doing the hemp version of the MSO move: working to turn a chaotic, low-barrier hemp market into a regulated, FDA-supervised, age-gated, milligram-capped system that still preserves access to non-intoxicating full-spectrum CBD. That sounds like consumer safety, and it is partly that. It is also exactly the kind of expensive, paperwork-heavy lane a tobacco-backed company is built to dominate and small hemp shops are not.

The hemp cliff, and what it does to operators

You can see the same fence going up in the hemp law. A federal hemp ban signed in late 2025 takes effect on November 12, 2026, and it is worth understanding exactly what it does, because the details decide who survives.

Section 781 of Public Law 119-37 rewrites the definition of hemp. The old line was simple: hemp meant cannabis with no more than 0.3 percent delta-9 THC. The new line measures total THC (including THCA, which converts to THC when heated) and adds a hard cap of about 0.4 milligrams of total THC per container of finished product. That per-container math is the sleeper. It does not just ban the obviously intoxicating hemp products like delta-8, delta-10, THC-O, and THCP. It is so tight that much full-spectrum CBD, and even many non-intoxicating CBD products, would blow past the limit and become federally illegal.

For operators, this is not a tweak. It is a cliff. With the one-year grace period ending November 12, 2026, a hemp business has four realistic options: reformulate products to fit under the cap, liquidate or destroy noncompliant inventory before the deadline, exit the business, or try to move into a state-regulated marijuana program where one exists. Industry groups put the stakes high. The U.S. Hemp Roundtable, an industry coalition (so read these as industry estimates, not government figures), estimates that more than 90 percent of CBD products exceed the new cap, that upward of 95 percent of hemp products could be eliminated, that the rules put roughly 300,000 jobs and a market around 28 billion dollars at risk, and that states could lose about 1.5 billion dollars a year in tax revenue.

One honest caveat: the ban is statutory and self-executing, but the FDA and DEA may not have the resources to enforce it broadly overnight, and there is an active legislative push to soften or delay it. So the day-after picture is real but fluid. What is not fluid is the direction. The compliant, well-funded brands are built to absorb this. The small and looser operators are the ones the rules clear out. That is the Charlotte's Web pattern again, at the level of the whole hemp market.

The seed in the story

There is a quieter piece of the hemp law that may matter most of all, and it reaches the genetics themselves.

To be precise, there is no separate "seed ban" statute. What there is is the way Section 781's total-THC test reaches past the harvested product all the way back to the seed. The new definition excludes from "hemp" the viable seeds of any plant that exceeds 0.3 percent total THC. In plain terms, high-THC seeds and the genetic material behind them carry federal marijuana exposure once the definition takes effect. That reverses the practical effect of a January 2022 DEA position (often called the seed letter) that had treated cannabis seeds and genetic material as hemp, and therefore not controlled, as long as they tested under 0.3 percent delta-9 THC. The test is changing from delta-9 to total THC, and it now reaches the seed.

Why does that matter for the market? Because whoever controls the seed controls the plant. Breeders, small farmers, and home growers rely on open, legal access to genetics. Narrow that access and you push the future of the plant toward the players who can own genetics through patents and plant-variety protection, the same direction Vertanical's patented cultivar points. Set the seed reach of the hemp ban beside the patent land grab on cannabis genetics, and a pattern shows up: the harvested product, the medicine, and now the seed are all drifting into the same fenced, owned lane. There is a one-year window, until November 12, 2026, to move genetics into or out of the country legally, and the people without lawyers and import paperwork are the least equipped to use it. (The genetics-concentration point is analysis, not a single sourced fact; the seed reclassification itself is in the statute.)

The official tell: the 2026 National Drug Strategy

If you want to see the worldview driving all of this, read the White House's 2026 National Drug Control Strategy, released May 4, 2026. Read straight from the document, its treatment of marijuana is the tell.

It lists "high-potency marijuana grown by criminal groups," along with "unregulated psychoactive derivatives of hemp [such as delta-8 tetrahydrocannabinol (THC)]," among its top domestic-production concerns. It pledges to go after "the interstate distribution of illicit marijuana from states with legal markets." And a featured text box titled "Illegal Marijuana Grows Destroying American Land and Supporting Drug Cartels" argues the marijuana trade has been "industrialized by sophisticated, transnational criminal organizations, particularly those with ties to China," groups that "systematically exploit states where marijuana has been legalized under state law." Its showcase example is Oklahoma, where it says Chinese criminal groups run more than 80 percent of the state's thousands of marijuana and hemp farms, and 2023 production exceeded the state's entire licensed medical demand by at least 32 times.

Notice what that framing does. The federal government's flagship drug document treats the state-legal plant mainly as a criminal threat, a cartel and foreign-exploitation story, not as a maturing legal industry and not as medicine. Set that beside everything above, where the only federally blessed cannabis is the FDA-approved, patented, pharmaceutical kind, and the posture comes into focus. Officially, the dispensary plant is a danger. The sanctioned version is the one that comes through pharma's door. The plant stays fenced; the patent-holders hold the gate.

What it means for the little guy and home growers

Strip the strategy away and ask the only question that matters for most people: what happens to the small operator and the person who grows at home?

Small and craft growers get the same 280E tax break on paper. In practice it is locked behind a federal wall: register with the DEA, run a pharmaceutical-grade facility, pay federal fees, pass inspections. Most small farms were never built for that and cannot afford the retrofit. To be fair, nothing forces a small operator into the federal system. They can keep running under state law exactly as before. But the pressure all runs one way. The realistic choices become: sell to a bigger company, take a bigger company's money, or fold. The relief that rescues the giants is the same force that squeezes the small.

Home growers get nothing. Schedule III does not create any right to grow your own, and it does not create a personal-use exemption. It changes who can be a licensed handler, not whether an ordinary person can keep a few plants. Home cultivation stays a question of state law and remains illegal under federal law. The Single Convention behind all of this has no category for cannabis as a common plant that people grow for themselves. It only recognizes a controlled product moving through licensed hands. That is the deepest part of the fence: not a tax line, but the quiet erasure of the option to simply opt out of the market.

On the hemp side it is the same story, now reaching the seed. The coming hemp rules favor the compliant, well-funded brands and clear out the small and looser operators, and the new seed math chips away at the genetics a home gardener or small breeder would need to opt out at all. The person growing a CBD plant or making a tincture is not who these frameworks are built for.

The bottom line

The pattern is the same on the marijuana side and the hemp side. The plant is being funneled into a licensed, capped, pharmaceutical-shaped lane that rewards whoever can pay to stand inside the fence, and offers nothing to the small farmer, the patient priced out, or the person who would rather just grow their own. The marijuana product, the hemp product, and now the seed are all being pushed through the same gate.

The big operators asked for legitimacy. They may have asked for the one thing they cannot survive. And the people most likely to be fenced out are the ones who were never in the room.

About the author. Jessica Mantonya is the founder of Drug Policy Watch and Hold in Common. She also advises operators, advocates, and funders on regulatory strategy and anti-enclosure positioning. Work with her →

This is a plain-English summary of fully sourced Drug Policy Watch references on the rescheduling incentives, the 1961 treaty mechanics, the federal hemp ban, and the genetics question. Every claim here is documented below or in those references. Independent analysis, not legal or financial advice.

Follow the Money: The June 29 Hearing

Correction, July 12, 2026. An earlier version of this piece described the attorneys general at the DEA hearing as a four-state bloc including Louisiana. That is wrong. Louisiana moved to withdraw as a designated party on June 24, 2026, and Chief Administrative Law Judge Derek Julius granted the motion on June 25, writing that Louisiana thereby "waives its status as a person entitled to a hearing." The hearing bloc is three states: Nebraska, Idaho and Indiana. We published on July 9 and 10 and missed an order issued two weeks earlier. The error was ours. Louisiana had already withdrawn from the parallel D.C. Circuit petition, so it has now left both fights, and it is the only one of the four that runs its own medical cannabis program. (Order of Chief ALJ Julius, June 25, 2026; reported by The Marijuana Herald.)

The hearing that opens June 29 is no longer the Biden-era rule everyone expected. It is a Trump-directed rescheduling, the participant list is one-sided, and the dollars behind it are documented. Here is what the record shows, and what it does not.

This is not the 2024 rule

It is easy to read the June 29 hearing as the last act of the Biden administration's 2024 rescheduling proposal. It is not. A Trump executive order signed December 18, 2025 directed the rescheduling effort. A DOJ and DEA order signed April 22, 2026 and effective April 28, 2026 placed FDA-approved and state-licensed medical marijuana into Schedule III. The hearing that runs from June 29 to about July 15, 2026 considers whether to move all marijuana to Schedule III. The frame, the timing, and the people in charge are new.

Seven invited, seven opposed

The DEA named seven designated participants for the hearing, and every one of them is on record against rescheduling. They are Kevin Sabet's Smart Approaches to Marijuana (SAM); the National Drug and Alcohol Screening Association; the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation; the states of Nebraska, Idaho, and Indiana (Louisiana was designated and withdrew on June 25, 2026); DUID Victim Voices; Kenneth Finn, MD; and Phillip Drum, PharmD.

Pro-reform groups were left out. The Atlantic Council for Tobacco Harm Reduction's cannabis arm, ATACH, and the American Council for Cannabis Medicine were excluded, as were pro-rescheduling officials from Colorado and New York. This is striking because more than 70 percent of public comments in the docket supported reform. Litigation over the proceeding is pending in the D.C. Circuit.

What rescheduling is worth

The stakes are concrete. Schedule III ends the Section 280E tax penalty that bars cannabis businesses from deducting ordinary expenses. Whitney Economics estimates that 280E relief is worth more than 2 billion dollars a year to the industry, and more than 15 billion dollars since 2018. That is the prize, and it explains why the largest operators have spent to be near the decision.

Who funded the administration

The money trail is documented in campaign-finance filings and reporting. Trulieve and the major multistate operators, including Curaleaf, Verano, Green Thumb, and Cresco, fund the American Rights and Reform PAC, which gave about 2.05 million dollars to Trump's MAGA Inc. super PAC in 2025. Trulieve and the U.S. Cannabis Council together gave about 1 million dollars to the inaugural, and Curaleaf gave 250,000 dollars. The industry spent about 3.2 million dollars or more on Trump-allied lobbyists. Trulieve alone put about 144.6 million dollars into Florida's failed 2024 Amendment 3 campaign.

To be clear about the limits of this: the timeline shows a correlation between large industry contributions and an administration that then directed rescheduling. It does not prove that the contributions caused the policy. Both things can be true, that reform is overdue on the merits, and that the process is being run in a way that rewards the biggest players and excludes the public that overwhelmingly asked for it.

Why it matters

If the hearing is decided by a panel of opponents while the financial beneficiaries sit outside the room, the result will be contested in court no matter which way it goes. The deeper risk is the one this site keeps returning to: a reform that lowers taxes for the largest operators while the rules around licensing, canopy, and hemp tighten around everyone else. Follow the money, and also follow who was left off the list.

This analysis draws on campaign-finance filings, agency orders, and published reporting. It describes a documented correlation between industry spending and federal action, not proven causation. It is journalism and analysis, not legal or financial advice.

Spot the Fence: The Patent That Proves the Point

How whole-plant cannabis is being absorbed into pharma, and why the FDA's May 2026 breakthrough designation changes the math.

For twenty years, the cannabis movement's strongest scientific argument was the entourage effect, that whole-plant cannabis works because its cannabinoids and terpenes act together. It was the argument for the plant over the pill. That argument just won. And in winning, it may have handed the prize to the other side.

The trial that changed the frame

In September 2025, the German firm Vertanical published a Phase 3 placebo-controlled trial in Nature Medicine. VER-01, a standardized full-spectrum extract from a proprietary cultivar, beat placebo on chronic low back pain across 820 patients with no signs of dependence (Nature Medicine). A companion Pain & Therapy study showed it rivaled opioids with better GI tolerability. Then, in May 2026, the FDA granted VER-01 Breakthrough Therapy Designation (Cannabis Business Times). The government that still calls the plant "no accepted medical use" just put a full-spectrum extract on the on-ramp to approval.

Why the timing is the whole story

The 2026 National Drug Control Strategy elevates FDA-approved cannabis medicines as the federal reference point and invites pharma to develop cannabis products, while branding dispensary and hemp products "emerging drug threats" (White House; Filter). The rule that emerges: cannabis is tolerated when it is FDA-approved, pharmaceutical-grade, and patent-protected. Everything else faces enforcement. Note the order of operations, the FDA-approved lane moved into Schedule III first (Federal Register).

The patent land grab

Courts have repeatedly held cannabis patents enforceable despite federal illegality (UCANN v. Pure Hemp; the Gene Pool extraction fights). BioTech Institute's plant patents (Nos. 9,095,554 / 9,370,164) are broad enough to read on a large share of strains; the U.S. government itself held the famous cannabinoid patent (No. 6,630,507). Vertanical's moat is the same building blocks, proprietary cultivar, extraction, and delivery. The patents don't protect a molecule; they protect the plant-as-medicine.

"How the movement lost the argument it won"

Researcher Dr. Del Potter argues in How the Cannabis Movement Just Lost the Argument It Won that proving the entourage effect created a stratified access architecture: pharma-grade cannabis becomes reimbursed, patent-protected medicine while dispensary and hemp cannabis face criminalization. His counter is to seize the FDA pathway through a nonprofit Phase 3 program licensed non-exclusively, an estimated $70 to 130M over six years. One researcher's interpretation, but the events it predicts are on the calendar.

The strategic question is no longer "is the plant medicine?" That's settled. It's "who owns the medicine now that everyone agrees it is?"

The November 12 Cliff

On November 12, 2026, hemp products legal in all 50 states today become Schedule I. What changes, what Congress is doing, and what it means for you.

The most consequential cannabis deadline of 2026 isn't the June 29 hearing. It's November 12, 2026, the day the new federal definition of hemp takes effect and much of the intoxicating-hemp industry blinks out of legality. This is statutory law with a fixed date.

What changed

The 2018 Farm Bill defined hemp by delta-9 THC (≤0.3%). That word was the loophole, it allowed converted cannabinoids and THCA flower. Section 781 closes it by measuring total THC (including THCA) and capping intoxicating cannabinoids (CRS IF13136). On Nov 12, delta-8, delta-10, THC-O, THCP, any synthetic/converted cannabinoid, and products over the new threshold (≈0.4 mg total THC/container) become Schedule I.

A business-continuity event

The 2018 Bill birthed a multibillion-dollar industry, delta-8 gummies, THC seltzers, THCA flower, sold even in states with no legal market. Courts mostly blessed it (AK Futures; Anderson v. Diamondback). The 2025 statute overrides all of it. Realistic options: liquidate inventory before the deadline, reformulate to a total-THC definition (impossible for most intoxicating SKUs), seek state grace periods (which can't override federal scheduling), or pivot to compliant hemp / state-licensed cannabis.

Congress is fighting in real time

Bills pull opposite directions (Congress.gov): the American Hemp Protection Act (H.R. 6209) to repeal Section 781; the Hemp Planting Predictability Act (H.R. 7024) to delay it to ~2028; and FDA-framework bills like the HEMP Act (S. 2112). None has passed. Plan around the date holding.

The bigger picture

The hemp ban is one half of a sorting mechanism. As intoxicating hemp is banned, FDA-approved and state-medical marijuana moved toward Schedule III and the FDA granted Breakthrough Therapy status to a patented full-spectrum extract (May 2026). The government is opening a patent-protected lane and closing the cheap, unregulated one that competed with it.

Inside the 2026 National Drug Control Strategy

The 195-page document that quietly decides which cannabis counts as medicine and which counts as a threat.

Every section of this site sits underneath one document: the National Drug Control Strategy, the statutorily required, government-wide drug-policy plan issued by the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy. The 2026 edition, published May 4, 2026, is the first of the second Trump administration. It coordinates roughly 19 federal agencies and a ~$44 billion budget around a single organizing idea, control (White House).

Fentanyl first

The Strategy's center of gravity is the overdose crisis. Its priorities run in order: understand current and emerging threats (fentanyl and synthetic opioids, methamphetamine, increasingly potent marijuana, novel substances); eliminate supply through interdiction, precursor control, and the suspension of "de minimis" duty-free import treatment used to smuggle synthetics; and a public-health approach to prevention, treatment and recovery. Harm-reduction language, syringe services, fentanyl test strips, is notably de-emphasized relative to the prior administration's plan (Filter).

Two lenses on cannabis

What makes the 2026 Strategy consequential is how it splits cannabis in two. On the criminalization side, it frames state-legal cultivation as cover for transnational organized crime, singling out Chinese criminal groups, a framing echoed by Oklahoma's January 2026 "Operation Blunt Force," an alleged $1.5 billion syndicated grow network built on straw-owner licenses (News on 6). Enforcement is increasingly run through Homeland Security Task Force structures.

On the pharmaceuticalization side, the same document elevates FDA-approved cannabis medicines (Marinol, Epidiolex) as the federal government's authoritative reference on cannabis health effects, and explicitly invites the pharmaceutical industry to develop cannabis-use-disorder treatments, while branding high-potency dispensary and hemp products "emerging drug threats."

Why the split matters

Read together, the two lenses describe a sorting rule: cannabis is tolerated when it is FDA-approved, pharmaceutical-grade and patent-protected, and targeted when it is not. That rule is exactly what the rest of 2026 is operationalizing, the Schedule III move for FDA-approved and state-medical products (Federal Register), the November hemp ban, and the breakthrough designation for a patented full-spectrum extract. The Strategy is the blueprint; the rescheduling, the hemp cliff, and the patent land grab are the construction.

It is, in other words, less a list of programs than a statement of which version of cannabis the federal government intends to recognize. The dispensary and the gas-station gummy fall on one side of that line; the pharmacy shelf falls on the other.

The 2026 Map: Federal Law vs. the States

An audience-friendly tour of the whole board in five minutes.

There are two Americas when it comes to drugs, and in 2026 they're arguing inside the same government. One has legalized cannabis in 24 states and is mainstreaming psychedelic therapy. The other just banned hemp gummies nationwide and reframed state-legal grows as organized crime.

Control first

The 2026 National Drug Control Strategy (May 4) coordinates ~19 agencies and $44B; fentanyl is the enemy and harm reduction is de-emphasized. It singles out Chinese organized crime in state markets, a framing echoed by Oklahoma's January 2026 "Operation Blunt Force," an alleged $1.5B syndicated grow network (News on 6).

Cannabis: states lead

24 states + D.C. allow adult use; about 40 run medical. Florida, Pennsylvania and Hawaii are 2026's states to watch. Federal reform bills stall, but the administration moved marijuana toward Schedule III with a June 29 hearing (Federal Register); NORML wants a consumer seat (NORML).

Hemp: the mirror image

Section 781 bans intoxicating hemp on November 12, 2026 (CRS). See "The November 12 Cliff" for the full picture.

Psychedelics: therapy, not decrim

70+ psilocybin bills across 26+ states; Oregon and Colorado run licensed programs; an April 18 executive order fast-tracks FDA review (Psychedelic Alpha).

Courts and patents

Raich still stands; Canna Provisions cert was denied. And in May 2026 the FDA granted Breakthrough Therapy status to Vertanical's patented full-spectrum extract (Nature Medicine): whole-plant cannabis cleared medicine's highest bar, under patent.

The takeaway

The federal government polices drugs as a security threat; states, courts and the patent office treat them as products and medicines. Both at once, colliding in 2026. Watch June 29, then November 12.

Hemp Just Hitched a Ride on an $87.6 Billion War Bill

The White House wants to soften the hemp ban. The way it is asking, as a $0 footnote on a war funding bill, tells you more than the ask itself.

On June 24, the White House budget office sent Speaker Mike Johnson a funding request. Most of it is war. Tucked inside, almost as a footnote, is a line that could decide whether the hemp products millions of Americans use stay legal past November. That placement is the whole story.

What the White House actually asked for

The request is an $87.6 billion emergency supplemental. The bulk pays for "Operation Epic Fury," the administration's strikes on Iran's nuclear program, plus an Ebola response in Central Africa and a round of farm aid. Near the end, under a short list of urgent authorities, comes hemp. The administration asks Congress to either rewrite the federal hemp definition along the lines of Amendment #54, a measure from Rep. Andy Barr (R-KY) that would keep many threatened hemp products legal, add labeling rules, and impose new taxes, or, at minimum, delay the Section 781 ban set to take effect November 12.

The stated goal is to protect access to full-spectrum CBD while still restricting products that pose serious health risks. The detail worth holding onto: the hemp item carries no money. It is a rule change, an authority, zero dollars. Policy riding inside a spending bill.

Hemp on the war budget

The fix for a farm-and-wellness product is being requested as a rider on a bill that exists to fund a military operation against Iran. This is not the first time. The ban itself, Section 781, did not arrive through the Farm Bill or any hearing devoted to hemp. It rode a late-2025 spending package that bundled Agriculture with Military Construction to end a shutdown. Hemp keeps traveling as cargo on must-pass, defense-adjacent vehicles. That improves the odds something passes. It also means a real change to drug policy gets almost no daylight, no standalone debate, no hearing where the trade-offs are argued in public.

The budget, by the numbers

Where the $87.6 billion goes, from the request itself:

• Department of War: about $67.1 billion, including $21 billion for munitions, $17.3 billion in operational costs, and $12.1 billion in classified programs.
• American farmers: $11.1 billion, mostly $10 billion in crop assistance plus $1.1 billion for Florida storm losses.
• State Department security: about $2 billion. Coast Guard: about $2 billion. Ebola response: about $1.4 billion.
• Smaller items: $1 billion to rebuild Penn Station, $1 billion for Delphi pensioners, $600 million for federal buildings, $500 million for restoration in Washington.
• Hemp: $0. It is a definitional change, not a dollar figure.

The only real hemp money in the wider agenda sits elsewhere: a new Medicare program covering up to $500 a year of hemp-CBD products per eligible patient, and a hemp crop USDA valued at $739 million in 2025, up 64 percent in a year.

What it would take to pass, and who is against it

Barr's Amendment #54 was blocked from a floor vote by the House Rules Committee, so it is not advancing on its own. The live paths are narrow: fold the language into this supplemental, pass Barr's promised standalone bill, or push the November 12 date back. The opposition is the strange part. It is a coalition of the alcohol industry, which does not love a cheap competitor, some marijuana businesses, which would rather hemp THC not undercut their taxed product, and prohibitionist groups, which oppose loosening anything.

The part I keep circling back to

A fix sounds like good news, and in the near term it may be. Recriminalizing products legal in all fifty states overnight would wreck small businesses and cut off people who say CBD helps them. Replacing a ban with labels, age limits, and taxes is more grown-up than prohibition. But watch the shape of the fix, not the headline. The request leaves "appropriate" full-spectrum CBD undefined. It pairs naturally with the Medicare CBD lane and the FDA's enforcement posture, both of which favor standardized, well-capitalized, often pharma-adjacent producers. New taxes and labeling rules are easy for big companies to absorb and hard for small growers to survive.

That is the fence, again. The questions to ask of any hemp fix are simple. Who can still grow it. Who can still sell it. Who can still afford to comply. If the answer narrows to the largest operators and the pharmaceutical channel, then a win on access can still be a loss on ownership. Watch the language, not the press release.

This is moving fast, and this analysis works from late-June reporting, so the vehicle and wording could shift. Not legal advice.

Build the Commons Before the Patents Close It

There is a realistic, public-domain path for whole-plant cannabis medicine. The window to build it is short.

The enclosure problem

As cannabis edges toward federal medicine, the value is migrating to whoever owns the intellectual property. Pharmaceutical firms can now patent standardized whole-plant extracts (Vertanical's VER-01 won FDA Breakthrough Therapy status in May 2026), broad plant and gene-editing patents are stacking up, and courts have repeatedly held cannabis patents enforceable despite federal illegality. Left alone, the plant people have grown for generations gets enclosed by the few who can afford the patent game.

The commons answer

Public-health researcher Dr. Del Potter's "Public Domain Whole-Plant Cannabis Medicines Program" sketches the alternative. A nonprofit develops an open reference extract (he calls it WPCE-01), publishes its specifications and analytical methods as prior art, holds a narrow patent estate in a public-benefit trust, and licenses the result non-exclusively. A Drug Master File held by the nonprofit lets many qualified manufacturers make the medicine, so no single firm controls the gate. The deliverable is regulatory legitimacy, not a brand.

Why it is affordable now

The number that makes this real is the cost. Potter estimates roughly $85 to $155 million all-cash, falling to about $36 to $70 million over six years once you add federal research grants, VA and DoD partnerships, academic trial sites, manufacturer co-investment, and the FDA's 505(b)(2) pathway, which lets a new application lean on already-published evidence. Vertanical's Phase 3 results are now public, so a public-domain program can reference them rather than repeat a nine-figure trial. The Usona Institute already proved the model by taking psilocybin toward approval as an open-science program.

What "the commons" means for the movement

This is not a plea for a single billionaire. It is a coalition: two or three lead funders for a $3 to $5 million Phase 1 that produces durable public artifacts (the extract standard, the investigator's brochure, the IP trust, the governance charter), then grants and partners carry the rest. Each phase is milestone-gated, and each milestone unlocks the next tranche. Public-health philanthropy writes checks this size routinely.

The window

The same publications that gave pharma its head start are what make the commons possible right now. Once exclusive products and broad patents settle into the federal definition of "medicine," the opening narrows. Potter puts the window at roughly eighteen months. If the cannabis community wants the plant to stay a commons, this is the moment to build the institution that keeps it one. Our Calls to Action include a letter to that effect.

Trulieve Rings the Bell

The first U.S. cannabis company on a major exchange is a milestone, and a warning for everyone who is not Trulieve.

What happened

In June 2026 Trulieve uplisted to the New York Stock Exchange under the ticker TRLV, becoming the first U.S. plant-touching cannabis company to trade on a major American exchange rather than the over-the-counter market or a Canadian listing.

Why it matters

A big-board listing is not just prestige. It unlocks deeper, cheaper capital: institutional investors and funds that are barred from over-the-counter stocks can now buy in, liquidity rises, and the cost of capital falls. It is also a confidence signal that the company expects federal change, specifically the Schedule III rescheduling that would end the punishing 280E tax, to actually land.

What it means for everyone else

Capital concentrates at the top. Operators who can tap public markets get a cheaper balance sheet to buy stores, undercut on price, and outlast competitors, while small and legacy operators, still locked out of banking and equity markets, watch the gap widen. The reform everyone fought for arrives first, and biggest, for those already largest.

The catch

Cannabis remains federally illegal, so the listing is a bet that rescheduling and 280E relief are coming. If the timeline slips, the exposure is real. Watch which operators follow Trulieve onto the exchanges; that list is a map of who the next phase of consolidation will favor.

Glass House and Vireo Build a Retail Giant

A California retail joint venture is a preview of the next phase: scale, supply control, and consolidation.

The deal

In April 2026 Glass House Brands and Vireo Growth announced a California retail joint venture: each contributes its dispensaries (11 from Glass House and 12 from Vireo) into a 50/50 entity, with Vireo's Cory Azzalino as CEO and a preferential supply agreement from Glass House, one of the state's lowest-cost large-scale growers. After five years Vireo can buy out Glass House's stake, with a reciprocal option in the other direction.

Why it matters

This is vertical leverage. Cheap cultivation plus a captive retail shelf is the winning hand in California's brutal, oversupplied market, where the lowest-cost producer survives and everyone else bleeds. Folding two dispensary networks into one platform with guaranteed supply is how you build durable margin when wholesale prices are on the floor.

Market impact

Expect more of it. Supply agreements become moats, shelf space for independent brands shrinks, and the joint venture becomes a template other multistate operators copy in other states. Consolidation that was already underway accelerates, and the squeeze on small cultivators and craft brands tightens.

The bigger pattern

Pair this with Trulieve's NYSE listing and the looming Schedule III relief, and the shape is clear: capital, scale, and supply control are concentrating at the top of the legal market just as the federal door cracks open. That is good for shareholders. Whether it is good for patients, small operators, and consumers is the open question.

The MSOs May Be Cheering Their Own Cage

The operators lobbying hardest for rescheduling could be building a framework that throttles their own production and hands the high ground to patent-holding pharma.

What they are pushing

The industry's biggest players, organized through groups like the U.S. Cannabis Council, have lobbied hard to move cannabis to Schedule III. The immediate prize is real: Schedule III ends the 280E tax that has been bleeding operators and eases research. On its own, that is a win worth wanting.

The trap

But the framing that rides along with it may not serve them. The 2026 National Drug Control Strategy elevates FDA-approved cannabis medicines as the federal reference point, and in May 2026 the FDA granted Breakthrough Therapy status to a patented full-spectrum extract. If "real" medical cannabis increasingly means an FDA-approved, standardized, patent-protected product dispensed through pharmacies, then the high-value lane is defined by intellectual property the multistate operators do not own.

The bottleneck logic

In a pharmaceuticalized system, value accrues to whoever controls the approved formulation and the patents around it. Manufacturers reference a Drug Master File and license the IP; production is gated by GMP standards and by the patent holder's terms. Cannabis biomass and conventional dispensary products risk becoming the commodity input, interchangeable and squeezed, while the margin sits in the patent layer above. In that scenario, the companies that cheered rescheduling will have helped build the channel that subordinates them.

The alternative

There are other roads. Full descheduling, or a STATES-style approach that simply lets state markets operate, would not hand the definition of medicine to the patent system. Neither would investing in a public-domain whole-plant program (see our Commons piece) that keeps the standardized medicine in the public domain and licenses it to everyone, including the operators themselves.

The takeaway

Be careful what you lobby for. The schedule number matters less than the framing that comes with it. If the industry wins Schedule III but loses the definition of medicine to patent holders, it will have advocated for its own bottleneck. In fairness, many in the industry argue that 280E relief and research access are worth it regardless, and that a regulated medical channel can coexist with adult-use retail. That may prove right. But it is worth asking the question now, while the framing is still being written.

SAM, Sabet, and the Capture of "Medicine"

How an anti-legalization group and a pharma-shaped federal strategy quietly agree on who gets to sell cannabis.

Who SAM is

Smart Approaches to Marijuana was founded in 2013 by former congressman Patrick Kennedy and former White House drug-policy adviser Kevin Sabet, who remains its president. It bills itself as a "third way" that opposes both incarceration and commercial legalization, favoring restriction and treatment instead. SAM says it runs on small donors. Reporting complicated that picture: VICE documented a $500,000 donation from Insys Therapeutics, the maker of a fentanyl spray whose executives were later criminally convicted, to anti-legalization campaigning. Sabet has disputed that industry money drives the organization.

The strategy it echoes

Read the 2026 National Drug Control Strategy next to SAM's messaging and the overlap is striking. The Strategy elevates FDA-approved cannabis medicines as the federal government's authoritative reference, brands high-potency and hemp-derived products as "emerging drug threats," ties state-legal cultivation to transnational organized crime, and de-emphasizes harm reduction. That is, almost line for line, the worldview SAM has promoted for a decade, now written into the governing federal document.

What regulatory capture means here

Regulatory capture is what happens when policy ends up serving incumbents and industry rather than the public it claims to protect. The cannabis version does not require a smoke-filled room. It only requires that "legitimate" cannabis be defined as the FDA-approved, standardized, patent-protected product, while everything else, the dispensary, the hemp shop, the home grow, is treated as a danger to be policed. A prohibitionist frame and a pharmaceutical frame can arrive at the same destination: a narrow, gatekept market. The Insys episode is the on-the-nose version, a company that profited from opioids helping fund the fight against a competing plant.

The throughline

This is the same dynamic we trace elsewhere on this site, in The Stratification and in the MSO piece. Whether the messenger is an anti-drug nonprofit or a multistate operator lobbying for Schedule III, the effect can be the same: value and legitimacy concentrate where the patents and approvals are, and the commons shrinks. It is why a public-domain path matters.

The fair counterpoint

SAM and its allies make arguments worth taking seriously: youth-use and high-potency products carry real risks, the commercial industry has its own profit motive, and "medicalization with guardrails" is a defensible public-health position. None of that is dismissed by naming the capture risk. The point is narrower: when prohibition rhetoric and pharmaceutical economics push in the same direction, the public should ask who benefits, and make sure patients and small growers are not the ones left outside.

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Step 1. Pick your one ask

Advocacy works when it is specific. "Fix drug policy" is a feeling; "renew the syringe-services authorization" or "vote yes on House Bill 942" is an ask an official can act on. Choose a single, concrete thing for now. You can always add more later. A good ask names the change, and if you can, the bill or rule and the decision that is coming up. Drug Policy Watch tracks what is moving in your state, so you can point to a real bill instead of a vague worry.

Open the 50-State Matrix

Step 2. Find who represents you

Your voice counts most with the handful of people who represent your address: your state legislators, your governor's office, and your members of Congress. A message to someone who does not represent you is easy to ignore; a message from a constituent is not. Write down their names and the best way to reach each one. You will use this list again and again.

Find your officialsFind your member of Congress

Step 3. Contact them, and say something real

A short, personal message beats a long, angry one. Staff sort contacts by issue and count them, so being clear about your ask and your zip code matters more than being eloquent. Calling and emailing both work; a call is often logged the same day. Include who you are and that you are a constituent, your one ask named plainly with the bill if you have it, one or two sentences on why it matters to you, and a clear request: please vote yes, please co-sponsor, or where does the member stand.

A script you can adapt: "Hi, my name is ___ and I live in ___. I am calling to ask [Representative ___] to support [the specific bill or change]. This matters to me because [one honest sentence]. Can you tell me where the [Representative] stands on it? Thank you."

You do not have to be an expert. "I am a constituent, this affects my family, and I am asking you to act" is a complete and powerful message.

Step 4. Show up where decisions are made

Bills move through committees and public meetings, and many rules go through a public comment period before they take effect. These are open to you on purpose. When an agency proposes a rule, it usually must read the comments it receives, and a short, on-topic comment from a real person carries weight. Track the bill you chose and watch for its hearing, where testimony can be a minute long. Town halls and local meetings let you ask your question in public, on the record.

Step 5. Bring people with you

One voice is a data point; twenty is a trend a staffer reports upward. The fastest thing you can do after acting yourself is ask a few others to do the same. Share what you learned, make it easy, and give them the same one ask.

Join the discussion

The foundation. Register, and stay registered

Every step above lands harder when you vote, because officials pay closest attention to people who do. Check your registration or sign up in a couple of minutes at the official, nonpartisan site.

Register or check at vote.gov

The honest part. Advocacy is a long game, and no single call flips an outcome. What moves things is many constituents, being specific, showing up more than once. You will not win every time. Keep going anyway; that is how the underdog wins. The cow is worth cutting from the fence.