Millennials stand accused of causing all manner of societal and economic woes — we’re somehow even at fault for a failing napkin industry. In fact, blaming millennials has grown so ubiquitous that the impulse to do so now (at last) carries a bit of a stigma.
So I’m loathe to critique my generation, whose greatest sins according to our elders include enjoying artisanal toast (it’s delicious) and preferring a work-to-life balance with greater emphasis on the latter. I’d say a group of young(ish) adults who opt to ride bikes when feasible, prefer working remotely, and endorse going local are doing alright, a questionable attachment to knit caps and the concept of brunch notwithstanding.
Yet I will call out my peers — though they’re far from the only generational bloc at fault here — for frolicking fancy free into the recreational weed brigade. A whopping 70 percent of millennials support legalizing marijuana outright, according to a poll published in January by the Pew Research Center. That’s slightly more than Gen Xers at 66 percent, a bit above Baby Boomers at 58 percent, and a load more than the 35 percent of Silent Generation seniors who say a-okay to legal weed. (Kudos to you, Grams.)
To be honest, the 70 percent number seems low to me. Outside of direct family members — who may or may not have been preferentially impacted by the relentless broadcast of my stance on the matter — I cannot think of a single millennial friend or acquaintance who opposes recreational marijuana. I’ve known more than one peer to eschew alcohol with an ascetic’s discipline while toking up on the regular for any (and no) reason at all. Fellow moms at the park talk of their upcoming weekend date with husband + pot gummies. “Marijuana moms” is a related thing, a real thing, the newly coined social moniker for women who happen to be parents and who happen to find the demands of their mom duties reason enough for daily, on-demand spritzes of cannabis mist. As a mom of preschoolers myself, I sympathize.
My working theory for millennials’ marijuana fondness is the spate of pot comedies most of up grew up watching.
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Like the vast majority of my routinely-maligned generation, I first encountered weed at a house party in high school. This would be around the year 2000, and I’ll note that I personally was not offered any (the cool kids were getting high in some shadowy adjacent room, but doors ain’t a thing to smoked pot’s tell-tale odor). Perhaps it was just my classmates reading me right — drugs in general terrified me, weed not excepted. I’ll concede the insulting possibility some may have feared I’d rat them out to the authorities at our strict religious school — those who don’t partake are never fully trusted. Regardless, unlike many of my adult opinions about life, my take on marijuana remains unchanged since high school.
During discussions about legalizing pot, I am faulted at times for this “not knowing” what I’m talking about. But none of my reasons for opposing recreational weed hinge on its imagined weakness in providing a gateway to good times. I grew up in Colorado, not far from Boulder. As any native resident will already know, this biographical fact meant regular high-def exposure to the sleepy glee manifestation weed entails. Plus, I went to college in Denver, so. Yeah. I’m aware of pot’s appeal. I’ve seen it in action.
But ask yourself: has weed ever meaningfully contributed to anyone’s life? While you’re considering, note that as substances go, it’s got plenty of destructive potential. The data backs me up on this.
(One important point to get clear and out of the way — medicinal marijuana is a separate issue. That pot is closer to nature and poses fewer potential side effects than other regularly prescribed meds is a tautology at this point. I’d love to see research and development in cannabis-based medical intervention grow — go for it.)
Legitimate reasons to oppose legalizing marijuana for funsies:
One, it’s awful for kids and teenagers, and the laughable assertion that making it more available and socially sanctioned doesn’t automatically mean more children and youths getting high is almost delightfully asinine. So what does marijuana mean for the young ones’ brains? A big dip in IQ — up to eight points, or half of an entire standard deviation. Maybe the genius kids at Ivy Leagues can afford to lose that batch of brain power, but we average plebs most definitely cannot.
Two, it’s also plenty addictive, especially for young people. (Relatedly, since recreational marijuana got the green light in several states across the country, adult addiction rates have skyrocketed.) And teens who tried pot saw their likelihood of developing a psychiatric disorder double, according to a 2014 study published by the National Center for Biotechnology Information.
Hey, how about the environment, that most cherished of millennial concerns? One little weed sprout will require 23 liters of water a day, nearly double what a wine grape plant requires. Indoor grow houses eat up enormous amounts of electricity — pollution and energy theft are their mandatory side hustles.
We live in the most prosperous and peaceful time period of human history, citizens of an embarrassingly wealthy nation that happens to wield enormous international sway. You’d think we’d be a little more bullish on the perks of staying mentally present and sober in the moment..
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Once I get past these arguments, most millennial friends turn with passion to incarceration and prison reform. They lambast discriminatory and excessively punitive drug laws that have disproportionately harmed minorities. (None of my white friends even pretend they themselves have ever faced — or even feared — legal repercussions for their joint habit.) Of course, I agree with them — decriminalizing marijuana possession and usage is a must. But that doesn’t mean the United States must turn marijuana into the new Wild West of vigilante high-dom.
It’s also worth noting that the big money fat cats now funding efforts to legalize weed stand to further stretch their already stratospheric wealth. The wellbeing of minority populations is at best a happy accident of sweet, sweet profit-seeking.
And let’s retire the nonsense that legal weed can snap its leafy fingers and disappear the problems of the current market. Nothing of the sort has happened in Colorado, and there’s no reason to hope for a different outcome elsewhere. Since marijuana was legalized, rehab and hospital admissions skyrocketed in Denver, alongside eviction rates, overdose rates, crime in general and motor vehicle accidents in particular.
Despite all this, millennial pals remain laid back about legalizing weed. My working theory for their marijuana fondness is the spate of pot comedies most of us grew up on — Dude, Where’s My Car?, Friday, Dazed and Confused, Half Baked, Clerks, Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, anything by Judd Apatow and/or involving Seth Rogen, and of course, The Big Lebowski. Who can resist The Dude? Sometimes in moments of bland and banal disappointment, I silently remind myself “The Dude abides” and feel reassured. All these films painted the side effects of pot use as benign, or even endearing. Unfortunately, like so much Hollywood fare, that turns out to be a lovely lie.
To the best of my knowledge, I haven’t convinced anyone to change their mind. Millennial friends hear my spiel, they give a proverbial shrug, they ask if I “really think” pot is worse than alcohol. They often say this over a glass of whiskey or wine. I take a sip and then give my answer: “Yes.”
Alcohol has been with us for millennia. And while its many detrimental side effects are widely recognized and documented, we tried Prohibition and it was a staggering debacle. And that’s a useful historic warning — once a substance gets the government stamp of approval and starts churning legal bucks into the GDP, getting it out of the economic system (not to mention the digestive one) will probably prove impossible.
There’s almost assuredly no rewind button on legalizing weed. And its relative newness means pot has in no way been inculcated into the marrow of our culture. If this little experiment turns out to be a net loss for our society, then we’ll be stuck in that diminished capacity, each generation subsequently less intellectually prepped to turn things around.
Behind all this millennial love for marijuana is a bigger question. Namely, why are so many of my peers so defensive of their right to a drug-induced escape, a weed-fueled release from their “normal” lives? To a degree, it’s an impulse as old as our species, sure. Homer envisioned wayward sailors munching on Lotus thousands of years ago. I get it. Life is hard, drugs make it feel easier.
But they don’t actually make it easier. And my fellow millennials aren’t wandering a mythological oceanscape brimming with vindictive deities and various other fantasy-bred horrors. We live in the most prosperous and peaceful time period of human history, citizens of an embarrassingly wealthy nation that happens to wield enormous international sway and unparalleled military muscle to boot. You’d think we’d be a little more bullish on the perks of staying mentally present and sober in the moment. And yet, here we are, 70 percent of us rooting for weed vendors guaranteed on a corner near you.
It doesn’t make much sense to me, but I’m sure an answer exists and someone far wiser can point the way. In the meantime, I’m paddling out here pretty much alone in my anti-pot boat, a rogue millennial who believes that when it comes to legalizing weed, the answer is still “just say no.”
Image Credit: Flickr/Cannabis Culture