“If we don’t build real, sustained advocacy campaigns—the kind that mobilize voters, flood lawmakers’ inboxes and dominate local news cycles—we’ll keep losing ground.”
By Gretchen Gailey, Project Champion
The passage of SB 3 in Texas, banning the sale of nearly all hemp-derived cannabinoid products, is more than just another legislative setback—it’s a siren.
For too long, the cannabis and hemp industries have relied on behind-the-scenes lobbying and quiet negotiations to protect their future. But policy memos and legal briefs alone won’t stop a political machine that still sees cannabis through the lens of fear, stigma and misinformation.
For those of us who’ve spent years building this sector from the ground up, it was a punch to the gut. But it wasn’t just a policy loss—it was a political failure. And it should serve as a wake-up call. If we don’t build real, sustained advocacy campaigns—the kind that mobilize voters, flood lawmakers’ inboxes and dominate local news cycles—we’ll keep losing ground.
SB 3 didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s the result of a coordinated effort by prohibitionist voices, law enforcement lobbies and misinformed policymakers who are still treating legal hemp and cannabis as threats instead of economic and health opportunities.
The Texas hemp industry—built by entrepreneurs, veterans, wellness advocates and working-class families—was caught flat-footed. Despite lobbying efforts, the bill sailed through the legislature. Why? Because there wasn’t enough public pressure. No mass public mobilization. No targeted campaigns. No credible electoral threat. Just quiet meetings in quiet rooms.
If that sounds familiar, it should. The cannabis industry has seen this play out across the country. But we also know what works. In every state where legalization succeeded, it wasn’t lobbyists who got it across the finish line—it was the people. Voters in Colorado. Advocates in Michigan. Patients and parents in Missouri. Grassroots pressure, sustained organizing and public narrative-shaping made those wins possible. We need to return to that playbook—and fast.
Which brings us to Pennsylvania.
This year, the commonwealth has a real shot at legalizing adult-use cannabis. Gov. Josh Shapiro (D) has publicly endorsed legalization, and momentum is building in the legislature. But make no mistake—this won’t be a slam dunk. Opposition still exists, and competing interests are already trying to shape the bill in ways that could leave legacy operators and small businesses shut out. If we treat this like another insider baseball game, we risk letting the moment slip away—or worse, watching a broken, exclusionary system get codified into law.
Pennsylvania is a battleground with national implications. It’s a purple state, home to a robust medical cannabis program, a large population of veterans and union workers and a thriving gray-market hemp economy. Legalization here could serve as a model for the Northeast and even influence federal momentum.
But only if the industry shows up. Not with just lobbyists and trade groups—with real people. With campaigns that put cannabis patients, farmers and entrepreneurs front and center. With rallies, media pressure, digital ads and coalition building that spans ideological lines.
We can’t afford to miss another opportunity like we did in Texas. And we can’t rely on the same old playbook that’s failing us at crucial moments. That’s not fear-mongering. It’s a pattern.
We’ve seen it in New York, where implementation delays and enforcement chaos have undermined equity goals. We’ve seen it in California, where legacy farmers are drowning under regulation and taxation while the illicit market thrives. We’re seeing it now in Texas, where a thriving hemp sector—one of the only accessible legal markets in the state—was dismantled in a single legislative session because the political groundwork wasn’t there.
Let’s be clear: Lobbyists have their place. They are essential for translating complex policy into action and for negotiating language that can survive a floor vote. But lobbying is not a substitute for public pressure.
The industries we’re up against—pharma, alcohol, law enforcement, prohibitionist nonprofits—understand this. They fund media campaigns. They sway public opinion. They bring voters to town halls. We need to play the same game—and play to win.
The cannabis and hemp sectors need to think like movements, not markets. That means building political infrastructure: voter engagement platforms, rapid response teams, grassroots donor networks and storytelling initiatives that humanize our fight. It means collaborating with civil rights groups, veterans’ organizations, patient advocates and even skeptical policymakers—not just to pass bills, but to change minds.
Because the war on cannabis was always political. And undoing it requires more than policy tweaks. It requires political power, the kind you can only build in the open, with people, pressure and purpose. Until we treat it that way—with real campaign infrastructure, voter education and organized grassroots power—we’ll keep losing ground even in states where we should be winning.
If your company is operating in hemp, cannabis or anywhere in between, your survival depends on political advocacy—not just policy engagement. SB 3 showed us what happens when the industry stays in the shadows. Pennsylvania offers us a chance to do it differently.
The window is closing. It’s time to act like we deserve to win.
Gretchen Gailey is the president of Project Champion, a collective of former professional athletes advocating for sensible cannabis and hemp reform. She is a veteran communications strategist and former journalist with over 20 years of media and political experience, now leading national cannabis campaigns and policy efforts.
“If we don’t build real, sustained advocacy campaigns—the kind that mobilize voters, flood lawmakers’ inboxes and dominate local news cycles—we’ll keep losing ground.” By Gretchen Gailey, Project Champion The passage of SB 3 in Texas, banning the sale of nearly all hemp-derived cannabinoid products, is more than just another legislative setback—it’s a siren. For too Read More
