IMO No. 18: The Board Room Tax
When Rich Guys with PowerPoint Decks Took Over Weed
This article is not a legal document, a financial strategy, or a hit piece (even if a few boardroom bros might take it that way). I’m not against science, branding, or capitalism per se—I’m just against what happens when cannabis gets stripped of its soul, turbocharged to 35% THC, and packaged like skincare. If you’re a suit who’s offended, try a lower-THC strain and take a walk. You might just find your vibe again.
We used to worry about getting busted. Now we worry about getting too high to function after two puffs of a joint.
We used to celebrate the ritual. Now we’re lucky if we can find a flower that doesn’t turn us into wallpaper.
This, my friends, is what I call The Board Room Tax—the price we all pay when cannabis is run by guys with stock options and a yacht named “Vertically Integrated.”
What Is the Board Room Tax?
It’s the invisible tax you pay every time a cannabis product is over-branded, over-processed, and so strong it hijacks your evening.
It’s the vibe tax plus the strength tax—plus the soul tax, the chill tax, and the “holy hell I didn’t want to time travel without a seatbelt tonight” tax.
This tax is paid in shortened rituals, abandoned joints, and the quiet frustration of realizing that the plant you love has been taken over by an industry that doesn’t actually love it back.
Cannabis by Committee
A few weeks ago, I was talking to an executive from a multi-state operator. We got into THC percentages (as one does), and I asked if they had anything below 15% THC.
He laughed. “We can’t sell it. Dispensaries won’t stock it because they claim the consumer wants strong weed.”
But that’s the lie, isn’t it?
It’s not that we all want strong weed. It’s that strong weed is what they push—because high THC commands high prices, and high prices look great on a pitch deck. Simpler story, easier sale.
But not better weed.
What about the rest of us? The folks who want to roll a joint and actually finish it? The ones who want a little lift—not a rocket launch? The ones who like to think while high, not disappear?
We’ve let the consumer experience be dictated by margin math and marketing, not real use or thoughtful experience. That’s the Board Room Tax in action.
Too Strong to Enjoy
I’ve had joints lately where I can’t get through half of it. Not because I don’t like the taste, not because I’m bored—but because I’m too damn high by the time I reach the halfway mark.
And this isn’t a tolerance issue. I’ve been around. I’ve smoked with friends in fields and chefs in back alleys. I can handle myself.
But I shouldn’t have to.
A joint should be a journey. Not a race to the moon. And the minute I have to start microdosing my way through what used to be a relaxing ritual, something’s broken.
Branding Over Balance
And then there’s the branding. Oh, the branding.
Every jar looks like it was designed by the skincare team at Glossier. Every edible package has more adjectives than a wine tasting menu. “Mindful. Mood-forward. Elevation-enhancing.”
But where’s the humanity? Where’s the story? Where’s the part that says: this isn’t about escape—it’s about connection?
We’ve lost the middle. Everything’s either a nostalgic throwback to Cheech & Chong or a $90 eighth with a QR code and brand ambassador.
Can’t I just get something that makes me laugh, makes me think, and lets me feel more like me?
What We’re Losing
- The ability to enjoy a full joint without panic sweating.
- The nuanced high—the one where you’re present, creative, a little floaty but still fully you.
- The social ritual—passing, pausing, telling stories, noticing little things.
- The accessibility of cannabis as a tool—not just a thrill ride.
When cannabis becomes about showing off THC numbers and building a brand empire, we lose the experience. We lose the softness. We lose the heart.
And that’s the biggest tax of all.
How We Push Back
We start asking questions. We push for lower THC options. We support growers and brands that prioritize balance over bravado.
We say no to weed that feels like a dare, and yes to weed that feels like a welcome.
We remind these companies that we’re not all trying to get obliterated. Some of us just want to feel a little better, a little kinder, a little more in tune with the world around us.
We stop rewarding the strongest weed with the highest price tag. We start rewarding the right weed for the right moment.
The Bottom Line
Cannabis shouldn’t be built in a board room. It should be shared in a living room.
It shouldn’t be marketed like luxury vodka. It should be introduced like a friend.
It shouldn’t always be the strongest thing on the shelf. Sometimes it should just be… enough.
Because when cannabis becomes all product and no experience, all science and no soul—we pay for it.
That’s the Board Room Tax.
And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of footing the bill.
Coming Up Next…
IMO No. 19 – “My Mom: My 74-Year-Old Mother and Her Cannabis Journey”
From the woman who taught me to clean behind my ears and question authority comes one of the most unexpectedly honest cannabis journeys I’ve ever witnessed. It’s personal, it’s moving, and it might just change how you talk to your own mom about weed.
