Could Donald Trump be the unlikely hero of the marijuana industry? According to a surprising report from The Wall Street Journal, the former president is weighing a significant policy shift that could loosen federal restrictions on cannabis. This isn’t the usual progressive playbook—it’s a potential game-changer from a conservative icon.
At a high-stakes fundraiser at his New Jersey golf club earlier this month, Trump hinted at reclassifying marijuana from a Schedule I to a Schedule III drug, a move that could transform the legal landscape for this multibillion-dollar industry, The Guardian reported.
This isn’t a new idea, mind you—the Biden administration floated a similar proposal, though it’s yet to see the light of day. Still, hearing Trump entertain the notion at a $1 million-a-plate event raises eyebrows. Is this a genuine pivot or just fundraiser chatter to please deep-pocketed donors?
Among the elite guests at Trump’s golf club event was Kim Rivers, CEO of Trulieve, a major player in the cannabis market. Sources, who preferred anonymity, revealed that Rivers urged Trump to push for this reclassification and expand medical marijuana research. It’s no shock that industry leaders are whispering in his ear—profit margins could soar if federal barriers crumble.
Reclassifying marijuana to Schedule III would strip it from the notorious Schedule I list, reserved for drugs deemed to have no medical use and high abuse potential. Such a shift would make buying and selling cannabis far easier, a boon for legal businesses struggling under current constraints. For conservatives wary of overregulation, this could be a rare win against bureaucratic overreach.
But let’s not pretend this is all about principle—there’s big money at play here. The legal marijuana industry stands to gain massively, and Trump’s ear seems open to those with the fattest checkbooks. Turns out, influence isn’t just grown on trees; sometimes it’s cultivated at fundraisers.
Rewind to 2018, during Trump’s first term, when two Soviet-born Republican donors, Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman, approached him with their cannabis agenda. They pitched a plan to sell marijuana in states where recreational use was legal, seeking presidential clout for their venture. It’s a reminder that Trump’s orbit has long attracted those eyeing green in more ways than one.
Parnas and Fruman even recorded a private dinner conversation with Trump that year, capturing his skepticism about marijuana. “Does cause an IQ problem,” Trump quipped, adding, “you lose IQ points.” Hardly a ringing endorsement, but it shows he’s been wrestling with the issue for years.
That same conversation took a darker turn when Parnas suggested removing the U.S. ambassador to Ukraine, Marie Yovanovitch, claiming she was undermining Trump. While unrelated to marijuana, it paints a picture of the messy entanglements surrounding these donors. Policy and personal favors often dance too closely in these circles.
Parnas and Fruman weren’t just cannabis enthusiasts—they later became entangled in legal woes. Indicted and convicted of campaign finance violations, they were found guilty of funneling a Russian oligarch’s money into Republican campaigns, including Trump’s, to curry favor for their marijuana business dreams. Actions, as they say, carry consequences heavier than a dime bag.
Their involvement didn’t stop at fundraising—they also aided Rudy Giuliani in digging for dirt on Joe Biden in Ukraine. It’s a tangled web, one that shows how far some will go to mix business with political leverage. For conservatives, it’s a cautionary tale about who’s whispering in power’s ear.
Back to the present, Trump’s latest musings on marijuana reclassification stand apart from these past controversies. Yet, they remind us that policy shifts often come with baggage—donors, agendas, and hidden motives. A healthy skepticism isn’t just warranted; it’s required.
For now, Trump’s interest in easing marijuana rules remains just that—interest. There’s no concrete action, no signed decree, just words at a swanky fundraiser. Still, in a political landscape where every statement is parsed, this feels like a seed planted for future debate.
Conservatives might find themselves split on this one—some will cheer deregulation and industry growth, while others will balk at normalizing a drug long demonized on the right. It’s a tightrope walk, balancing personal freedom with traditional values. Trump, as always, seems poised to keep us guessing which way he’ll lean.
One thing’s clear: if marijuana does move to Schedule III under a Trump-influenced policy, it won’t be because of some woke cultural crusade. It’ll be about business, pragmatism, and maybe a dash of political strategy. And in a world obsessed with progressive overreach, that’s a refreshing change of pace.
