“Be careful what you pray for,” St. Teresa of Avila counseled, “for you just might get it.”
This is the paradox legal pot proponents face as they ponder the consequence of success.
Individuals can smoke it. They can grow up to 12 plants, at least for now. But the public can’t buy it. Merchants can’t sell it. And the cannabis industry can’t farm it. Yet.
At the moment, “when” is an open question. And the history of medical marijuana is not exactly a case study of speedy – or smooth – implementation.
Massachusetts’ voters legalized marijuana for medical use four years ago. The ballot measure allowed for up to 35 dispensaries to open year one. Today, there are nine.
To blame: administrative incompetence, legislative ambivalence, resistance to sighting in many communities, and honest disagreements about how dosages are determined. (Beacon Hill may revisit this last issue later this year.)
In the hopes of avoiding similar delays, cannabis advocates – MassCann Norml – last week fanned out through the State House to convince legislators to keep their hands off the new law.
"They're assuming,” said spokesman Bill Downing, "That their constituency is stupid. And that's what they're saying to their constituents. 'You are too dumb to understand what you voted for so we're going to straighten it out for you, 'cause we're so much smarter than you are.'"
There is an element of truth in what Downing says. Governor Charlie Baker, Attorney General Maura Healey, House Speaker Robert DeLeo, and Boston Mayor Marty Walsh were among the political establishmentarians opposed to legalization. State Senate President Stanley Rosenberg struck the pose of someone who might not be in favor, but recognized that legal pot was probably an inescapable reality.
Disingenuous is how political power brokers see Downing’s position. Democratic State Senator Jason Lewis agrees that the time for legalized marijuana is here and that the public has affirmed so. But he makes a persuasive case that the ballot question was the work of the cannabis industry, and that as such it favors corporate interests, may compromise public safety, and short change the state treasury.
Taxes are already a flash point. Washington State levies a 37 percent tax on marijuana sales. A recent Department of Revenue study says that, as of now, the effective Bay State rate would be only 12 percent. The ballot question called for a 3.75 percent tax that would be added to the 6.25 state sales tax. To get to the 12 percent effect rate, DOR assumed cities and towns would impose an allowable two percent tax.
The State House News Service reports that: “At an effective tax rate of 12 percent, Massachusetts would have the lowest marijuana rate of any state that has legalized the adult use of the drug except for Maine, where the ballot law approved last year calls for a tax rate of 10 percent.”
Colorado has a 29 percent rate, Alaska 25 percent, and Oregon 17 percent.
Diligently preparing for the advent of retail pot has been State Treasurer Deborah Goldberg. Her office was designated by the ballot question to control, regulate and enforce cannabis policy.
Although it is not a sure thing, it does seem less likely this week (rather than last) that Goldberg will emerge as the regulatory kingpin when the Committee On Marijuana Policy issues its omnibus bill, which is scheduled for June.
To determine which way the smoke is blowing, consider these two statements:
On Boston Herald Radio, Senate President Rosenberg expressed confidence in Goldberg and her staff's ability to regulate the industry under something like what the current law calls for. He was positive, but still vague.
House Speaker DeLeo was less Delphic. He said that the decision to keep marijuana regulations under Goldberg’s roof has not yet been made. This would create room for the marijuana committee to arrive at a new structure more to the taste of Beacon Hill management.
Rather than stay at three members under Goldberg’s oversight, the inside thinking is that it might become more like the Gaming Commission, with members appointed by the governor, house speaker, and senate president – in addition to the treasurer.
When this divergence was fired up last Monday, Goldberg warned that if the oversight structure were changed, implementation deadlines could not be met.
What does all this mean? Hard to say, except for this: The precise moment when Massachusetts embraces its Cheech and Chong destiny is still up in the air.
