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In the 1980s, President Ronald Reagan’s War on Drugs cast a long shadow, branding cannabis as a societal scourge and fueling mass incarceration. Decades later, this outdated crusade lingers like a relic, morphing into a new kind of cold war—one not fought with tanks or spies, but with policy inertia, economic disparity, and cultural erasure.
As states legalize cannabis and hemp enjoy federal protection, the promise of a free market remains stifled. Small-scale, mom-and-pop cannabis businesses—frequently led by entrepreneurs from communities historically sidelined by systemic barriers, including Black and Brown individuals, LGBTQ+ people, veterans, and those in inner-city and rural areas—are struggling to survive against deep-pocketed multi-state operators (MSOs). This isn’t just a business battle; it’s a fight for equity, legacy, and the soul of an industry older than our nation itself.
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The numbers tell a stark story. Over 600,000 Americans are arrested annually for cannabis-related offenses, with Black Americans nearly four times more likely to face arrest than their white counterparts, despite similar usage rates. While 24 states and Washington, D.C., have legalized recreational cannabis, and 70 percent of Americans support decriminalization (per a 2024 Pew Research Center poll), federal inaction keeps cannabis as a Schedule I drug, a relic of Reagan-era fear-mongering. This creates a patchwork of policies that choke small businesses while empowering corporate giants.
Mom-and-pop cannabis shops embody the craft community’s heart, much like artisanal breweries or family vineyards. These entrepreneurs—often legacy growers or returned citizens rebuilding their lives—bring authenticity to an industry that predates prohibition. Yet, they’re dwarfed by MSOs, which control nearly 30 percent of U.S. cannabis retail with budgets in the hundreds of millions, snapping up prime real estate and flooding markets with slick marketing. In 2023, independent shops, estimated at fewer than 3,000 nationwide, scrambled for scraps. MSOs absorb regulatory hurdles—licensing fees, compliance costs, banking restrictions—while small operators drown.
Nowhere is this cold war more vivid than in Washington, D.C., the nation’s fishbowl, where policy ripples shape the country and beyond. D.C.’s cannabis saga reads like a drama of dashed hopes: voters legalized recreational use in 2014, but the city’s medical program remains a labyrinth of red tape, sowing anxiety among patients and strangling small businesses.
Mayor Muriel Bowser’s administration, wary of federal oversight in a city Congress can overrule, has tightened rules, favoring deep-pocketed players over local dreamers. This isn’t just bureaucracy—it’s a betrayal of the craft cannabis spirit, turning D.C. into a cautionary tale of freedom promised but not delivered.
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Contrast this with Maryland, a short drive away, where bold leadership flipped the script. In 2023, Maryland legalized recreational cannabis, launching social equity programs that empower small entrepreneurs and capture revenue once lost to D.C.’s gray market. Maryland’s market sparkles with possibility, showing what happens when policy lifts communities rather than binds them.
This D.C.-Maryland divide isn’t just local gossip—it’s a mirror for the world. D.C.’s gridlock reflects national and global debates over cannabis equity, where cautious governance stifles progress. Maryland’s courage signals a path forward, proving small businesses can thrive when leaders listen to voters. This tale underscores a universal truth: free markets falter when freedom feels out of reach.
The SAFE Banking Act, languishing in Congress, deepens this divide. Without banking access, small businesses operate in cash, risking theft and IRS audits. MSOs, with legal teams and lobbying power, navigate with ease. Senators, many entrenched since Reagan’s time, cling to outdated stigmas, ignoring a generation seeking alcohol alternatives. Over 26 percent of Gen Z and Millennials report cutting alcohol, turning to cannabis for wellness and socializing, yet policy lags.
The cannabis craft community deserves better. Customers must champion mom-and-pop shops, valuing their heritage over corporate uniformity. These businesses aren’t just storefronts; they’re pathways to generational wealth for communities long denied it. Real estate could anchor this wealth, but zoning and capital barriers block small players. Allies—advocates, consumers, lawmakers—are critical. Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a vocal advocate for plant-based medicines like cannabis and psychedelics, could be a game-changer. His push to prioritize natural remedies over corporate interests, as seen in his recent calls for transparency at the FDA, signals potential support for dismantling barriers that stifle cannabis equity, uplifting returned citizens and small entrepreneurs alike.
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This isn’t about more studies to destigmatize cannabis; its benefits are ancient. It’s about dismantling a system that punishes the vulnerable while rewarding the powerful. MSOs may have margins, but independents have agility and soul—qualities readers craving bold ideas and justice can rally behind. The cold war on cannabis thrives on inaction. It’s time to end it with a movement for equity, freedom, and the true craft of cannabis.
*This op-ed was submitted by a guest contributor. The author is solely responsible for the content.