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“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” So inquires Sir Toby Belch of the strait-laced steward, Malvolio, in Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night.”
As Sir Toby realized, people will find ways to quench their thirsts — or satisfy their hankerings for cannabis — with or without official approval. Of course, it isn’t hard to find evidence of this. When I lived in the dorms, all it took to verify was stepping into the hallway with my nose. If freshmen want to use their newfound freedom to smoke pot, rest assured the presence of a residential assistant, an authority figure barely their senior, will only go so far to stop them.
And why should it? As support for legalizing marijuana has climbed, commanding a majority of Hoosiers in polling, any contrary argument has come to feel a bit futile. Even modest protests must be concealed in an apologetic and defensive style: “Of course, I don’t question your right to get high, but perhaps those high drivers swerving into Taco Bell” — true story — “are a bit unfortunate…? Yes, weed could raise tax revenue, but maybe we keep it away from teens…?”
Indeed, for most squares across the country, the best we can hope for is a society that remains filled with a green haze — more Americans now use marijuana daily than drink — but is a tad more regulated. At the very least, we can work toward a society where burdensome freshmen modules informing us of the harms of alcohol and tobacco also touch on those of this drug.
But we squares who call Indiana home can hope for more than that. The hash is still illegal in this state, and maybe, just maybe, it should stay that way.
After all, the law still has some effect on how people behave. Since Washington and Colorado first legalized recreational pot in 2010, use in the United States has surged, especially frequent use. Over that period, the segment of the population that consumes weed at least 21 days out of a month grew from more than 5 million to nearly 20 million.
Unsurprisingly, the states where the devil’s lettuce has been legalized for recreational use are also the states that have contributed most to that growth. Just over a third of adults in Colorado used marijuana some time in the past year, while less than a fifth in Indiana did.
The takeaway from that is that a considerable demographic of square-adjacent people exist who aren’t particularly envelope-pushing and are content to live inside the bounds of the status quo. While weed remains illegal, members of this group won’t experiment with it, but as soon as it’s legalized, they suddenly become amenable to the idea. This group, predominantly composed of women and college students, makes the difference in Colorado and Indiana’s usage numbers.
And maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe we shouldn’t want more people, especially students, open to smoking pot or taking edibles. Perhaps marijuana should be relegated to a subculture.
Hear me out: With one out of every twelve students nationwide using some form of cannabis daily, regular use among college students has reached its highest levels since the early 1980s. Add to this nearly half of students gambling and about 70% of college men and 20% of college women watching porn weekly, and the picture painted of Generation Z falls short of ideal.
When used regularly — and it is, more so in the states that allow it — marijuana can lead to cannabis use disorder, a kind of dependence. Its symptoms include unsuccessful attempts at limiting one’s use, recurrent use that results in problems at home, school or work and withdrawal. Among college-aged daily users, four-fifths meet these criteria. The effects of gambling and pornography are analogous. Besides the latter’s noted moral problems, it, too, is linked to anti-social behaviors.
In another time, one needed to take the walk of shame to the cash register with their Playboy Magazine, personally network a league of other gamblers interested in betting big money on college football games or leverage friends of friends of friends to find a dealer. For the first two, one now needs to do no more than open an app.
But in Indiana, coming by marijuana is still not as easy as sauntering into a dispensary on Kirkwood Avenue in broad daylight, and maybe, just maybe, it should stay that way.
Eric Cannon (he/him) is a junior studying philosophy and political science and currently serves as a member of IU Student Government. His column normally appears Sundays and Wednesdays. Never miss them or his other opinionated musings on X.
