Last week, I walked into a gas station and bought an opioid. Not a supplement, not a sleep aid—a genuine opioid that binds to the same brain receptors as oxycodone and fentanyl. The product, called 7-OH, is legal in most states and sold openly alongside snacks and drinks.
The purchase took ninety seconds. The clerk rang it up between a soda and beef jerky without a second glance. I tossed it in the trash outside—I'm a statistician, not a user—but the ease of acquisition was alarming.
7-OH, short for 7-hydroxymitragynine, is an alkaloid found in kratom leaves. While the plant produces it in trace amounts, manufacturers chemically oxidize kratom extract to concentrate it into tablets, gummies, and drink shots. The FDA and HHS Secretary classify it as an opioid, citing studies that show it binds to mu-opioid receptors with up to 13 times the potency of morphine. The FDA commissioner publicly stated this in July 2025.
This regulatory gap is stark: a surgeon can't prescribe three days of pain relief without a paper trail, but anyone can buy a substance 13 times as strong as morphine with their morning taquito. The reason? We regulate opioids by origin, not by effect. If it comes from a doctor, it's suspicious; if it comes from a smoke shop with a cartoon label, it's presumed harmless.
Compounding the issue, 7-OH doesn't show up on standard drug tests, making it an attractive option for those who need to pass workplace screenings. This has fueled a surge in poison control calls since products hit shelves around 2023.
The federal response has been sluggish. The FDA formally recommended Schedule I classification on July 29, 2025, but the DEA has yet to issue a final rule—more than a year later. Meanwhile, states like Florida, Tennessee, Massachusetts, Kansas, and North Dakota have taken action, but many others, including Idaho, have not.
This inaction is particularly galling given the decade-long crackdown on prescription opioids. The overdose crisis today is driven by illicit fentanyl, not prescription pills, yet doctors remain terrified to prescribe. The enforcement machine built for that fight has ignored this new threat.
The DEA should act now. The science is clear, and every day of delay leaves these products on shelves. Congress has a bill stuck in committee, but states shouldn't wait. The tablets I bought are in a trash can, but the rest of the box remains under fluorescent lights, waiting for the next buyer. For more on regulatory failures, see the legal challenges to Trump's tariffs and the DOJ's executive privilege memo.
