US DOJ to Reclassify Marijuana: Systemic Shift or Corporate Capture of Cannabis Reform?

Indigenous perspectives on cannabis are largely absent in mainstream narratives, despite its sacred and medicinal use in traditions like Rastafari, Ayurveda, and some Native American practices. The reclassification risks commodifying a plant with deep cultural significance, repeating patterns of colonial exploitation where Western corporations extract and patent Indigenous knowledge. Traditional ecological knowledge systems, which view cannabis as part of balanced ecosystems, are sidelined in favor of industrial monoculture farming. The absence of Indigenous leadership in policy discussions perpetuates historical erasure of their stewardship over psychoactive and medicinal plants.

The prohibition of cannabis in the US is rooted in racist propaganda from the early 20th century, where Mexican immigrants and Black jazz musicians were scapegoated for 'marihuana' use, leading to the 1937 Marihuana Tax Act. This was part of a broader strategy to criminalize communities of color and consolidate state control over substances, echoing earlier colonial drug wars like the Opium Wars. The 1970 Controlled Substances Act classified cannabis as Schedule I, a category reserved for drugs with 'no accepted medical use,' despite evidence to the contrary. The current reclassification is not an isolated event but part of a cyclical pattern where drug policies are adjusted to serve economic and political interests rather than public health.

Globally, cannabis policies reflect diverse cultural and historical contexts: Uruguay and Canada have legalized for social justice, while Thailand integrates it into traditional medicine systems. In Jamaica, the Rastafari movement’s sacramental use contrasts with corporate cannabis farms exporting to the US. African nations like Lesotho and South Africa are leveraging cannabis for economic development but face barriers from global pharmaceutical patents. The US reclassification risks imposing a neoliberal model that prioritizes white-owned enterprises, ignoring Indigenous and Afro-diasporic models of communal benefit. Cross-cultural lessons show that legalization without reparative justice exacerbates inequality.

The scientific consensus supports cannabis’ medical efficacy for conditions like chronic pain, epilepsy, and PTSD, with over 30,000 peer-reviewed studies documenting its benefits. The Schedule I classification has historically restricted research funding and stifled innovation, particularly in the US. The DOJ’s reclassification to Schedule III (recognizing medical use) aligns with WHO recommendations and decades of evidence, but it does not address the lack of research on long-term effects or the endocannabinoid system’s role in health. The move also fails to integrate traditional knowledge systems that have used cannabis for millennia, instead favoring Western clinical trials and pharmaceutical standards.

Artists and spiritual leaders have long used cannabis to explore creativity and consciousness, from Bob Marley’s Rastafari rituals to the psychedelic art movements of the 1960s. The plant’s prohibition has been a tool of cultural suppression, limiting its role in spiritual practices and artistic expression. The reclassification may reduce legal risks for users but does not restore cannabis’ sacred cultural functions, which are often incompatible with corporate commodification. Indigenous and Afro-diasporic traditions view cannabis as a bridge between worlds, a perspective erased in favor of its medical or recreational framing. The spiritual dimension of cannabis remains a site of resistance against materialist reductionism.

If the reclassification leads to a corporate-dominated cannabis industry, we may see a future where Big Pharma patents cannabis-derived drugs, pricing out marginalized communities who historically used it for healing. Scenario planning suggests that without reparative policies, legalization could replicate the racial wealth gap seen in alcohol and tobacco industries, where white-owned businesses control 81% of the market. Conversely, a justice-centered model could prioritize community reinvestment, expungement of records, and Indigenous-led cultivation, creating a more equitable industry. The failure to address future scenarios risks entrenching systemic inequities for decades.

Black and Latino communities, who were disproportionately targeted by cannabis prohibition, are largely excluded from the economic benefits of legalization, with only 4-6% of US cannabis businesses minority-owned. The reclassification does not address the 40,000+ people still incarcerated for cannabis offenses, nor does it provide pathways for expungement or restorative justice. Indigenous communities, who have stewarded cannabis and hemp for generations, are sidelined in favor of venture capital-funded startups. The narrative also ignores the voices of medical patients, particularly those in low-income communities, who rely on cannabis for affordable healthcare. Without structural inclusion, legalization risks becoming another tool of dispossession.