For more than two decades, I have watched drug policy unfold from the ground level—not as a politician or academic, but as a resident of Pacific Beach, San Diego, where the consequences of weak enforcement hit close to home. Our coastal neighborhood saw crime spike and drug culture flourish as stores openly sold paraphernalia despite state laws. Frustrated residents formed a grassroots group, SavePB, to push back. But before we could shut those shops down, a new wave arrived: storefronts selling marijuana under the guise of California's Proposition 215, which created an 'affirmative defense' for possession. That ambiguity was quickly exploited, leading to roughly 250 illegal marijuana outlets in San Diego, 25 in my neighborhood alone.
That experience taught me a hard truth: unclear or poorly enforced drug policy fuels illegal markets and devastates communities. That pattern has repeated across the country over the past 20 years, and it's why I now view the push to reschedule marijuana to Schedule III with deep concern. This isn't sound policy—it's a political shortcut that risks bypassing the scientific and regulatory safeguards designed to protect public health. The drug scheduling process in the United States is meant to follow a structured evaluation by the FDA and DEA, grounded in evidence. When executive action drives policy toward a predetermined outcome, it undermines that integrity. As political divides deepen, the chaos seen in the UK election serves as a stark warning for what happens when policy is driven by expediency rather than evidence.
My perspective is also shaped by personal tragedy. A young family member began using marijuana early, spiraling into addiction, legal trouble, and psychosis. After nearly a decade of struggle, he died by suicide. At his funeral, his parents told me they had long feared that outcome. That is the human reality behind these policy debates. The average age of first marijuana use is just over 12, and early use is linked to addiction, mental health issues, academic failure, and social withdrawal. I've spoken with families who describe losing a child—not always to death, but to a life that never fully develops.
Moving marijuana to Schedule III would place it alongside drugs recognized as having accepted medical use, with FDA approval, standardized dosing, and regulated manufacturing. Marijuana as it exists today does not meet those standards. Instead, we have a patchwork of state 'medical marijuana' systems that lack scientific rigor. In California, I obtained multiple recommendations without any medical evaluation—just pre-signed forms issued upon payment. That is not a credible medical framework; it's a system lacking basic integrity.
The practical problems are immense. How would pharmacies source marijuana? The pharmaceutical system depends on consistency, quality control, and regulatory oversight—standards that current marijuana products don't meet. Dispensaries don't operate within controlled substance frameworks, and there's no clear path for them to become compliant distributors under federal law. Meanwhile, public awareness hasn't kept pace with changing policies. Schools lack comprehensive, evidence-based drug education that reflects today's high-potency products. Families are left without guidance, and young people are exposed to risks they don't fully understand. This gap in education mirrors the surge in book bans that limit access to information in schools.
We're also failing to measure broader societal costs. Emerging data links marijuana to rising child welfare cases due to neglect and impaired supervision. Marijuana-related impaired driving is increasing, creating new challenges for enforcement and public health messaging. As the U.S. faces a shrinking population and shifting demographics, the long-term costs of a drug policy that prioritizes political momentum over evidence are too great to ignore.
Over the last two decades, I've seen that when marijuana is normalized or treated as harmless, use increases—especially among young people. Today's products are more potent, more accessible, and more widely marketed than ever before. For some, that leads to serious harm. Public policy must be guided by science, not shortcuts. The current rescheduling push fails that test.
