I support cannabis legalization and responsible adult use. But I don’t think it makes sense to place a dispensary in the heart of downtown Nyack. This isn’t about prohibition. It’s about priorities.
Frank LoBuono recently argued that opposition to the new dispensary is rooted in stigma and fear, even comparing it to Reefer Madness. But in doing so, he misrepresents the actual concerns of many Nyack residents—including parents, business owners, and community members—who’ve spoken out not against legalization, but against how it’s being implemented in a very specific location.
Let’s clarify what this conversation is—and is not—about.
There’s already a legal dispensary operating just minutes from downtown. So the issue isn’t about access to cannabis or licensing fairness. It’s about what it signals when we put a cannabis storefront at the symbolic and literal center of village life—especially in a space that used to be one of the few casual gathering places for young people. That shift deserves more than a shrug. It deserves to be carefully thought through.
Some say: “There are already bars and liquor stores downtown—what’s the difference?” But that’s not a model to emulate. Alcohol is one of the most harmful substances in our society, and its ubiquity in public-facing retail should give us pause, not reassurance. We can acknowledge the damage alcohol causes without calling for its prohibition, and we can do the same with cannabis.
LoBuono reduces community concerns to a caricature: parents imagining “drooling pedophiles” or dispensaries as “dens of iniquity.” But that straw man distracts from legitimate issues: the rapid commercialization of increasingly potent cannabis products, the documented rise in serious health complications, and the growing influence of addiction-optimized industries in spaces meant to serve everyone.
Cannabis today is not what it was a generation ago. Until the end of the 20th century, the average potency of seized cannabis never exceeded 5% THC. Now, dispensary flower averages 20–25% THC. Extract-based products routinely exceed 60%. According to research cited by Keith Humphreys, a professor of psychiatry at Stanford University specializing in addiction and public policy, today’s daily users consume more than 300 mg of THC per day, compared to about 5 mg in the 1990s. And daily use has skyrocketed. More Americans now report using cannabis daily than drinking alcohol daily—not because drinking has declined, but because cannabis use has surged.
The consequences are becoming clearer. Reporting by The New York Times has documented a sharp increase in cases of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome (CHS), a condition marked by debilitating nausea and vomiting, sometimes requiring emergency care and even linked to deaths. Others experience temporary psychosis, including hallucinations and paranoia. A 2022 survey found that 30% of cannabis users ages 18+ report symptoms of cannabis use disorder. Among daily users aged 18–25, 81% met diagnostic criteria for addiction.
These aren’t isolated anecdotes. Doctors across the country are seeing CHS “every week, if not every day,” especially among heavy users of high-potency products. And as psychiatrists have warned, the earlier and more frequently someone uses cannabis, the higher the risk of developing chronic psychotic disorders like schizophrenia, especially in the critical developmental window before age 25.
None of this is an argument against legalization. But it is a warning against letting legalization slip into commercialization without guardrails. The promise of better regulation has, in many cases, gone unfulfilled. Many states don’t require health warnings about addiction or psychosis. Lobbying pressure from cannabis companies has blocked stronger oversight. And the $33 billion industry that emerged has largely been driven by the same logic as Big Tobacco: maximize use, boost potency, and market aggressively.
We’ve seen this before. In the case of tobacco, it took decades of research and litigation to expose its harms, and even now, flavored nicotine products are pushed hardest in vulnerable communities. Alcohol remains a leading cause of liver disease, domestic violence, and impaired driving. Or think of sports betting, now legalized and frictionless, feeding a spike in addiction, financial strain, and scandals. These markets rely not on casual users, but on their heaviest consumers.
Legal does not mean harmless. Nor does opposition to a specific location mean opposition to cannabis itself.
Which brings us back to Main Street.
Downtown Nyack is a rare kind of place: intergenerational, walkable, civic-minded. We’re not a strip mall, a highway corridor, or an industrial park. What we allow in our core retail zones sends a message—not just about what we permit, but about what we prioritize.
Commercial rents in downtown Nyack are high enough that only businesses with reliably strong margins can survive. That creates a structural advantage for retailers of addictive or high-frequency products—alcohol, tobacco, and now cannabis. It’s not just that “no other business wanted the space.” It’s that very few community-serving businesses can afford to try. The fact that a cannabis dispensary is the only one able to take the risk is a sign not of vitality but of economic narrowing.
Yes, there’s projected revenue. And I’d support using some of it for youth services or infrastructure. But we should weigh those dollars alongside the opportunity cost: What kinds of businesses get edged out? What kind of village life are we cultivating?
LoBuono also suggests the village has no real power to intervene. But local governments do have zoning authority. We can’t arbitrarily deny a licensed business, but we can—and should—shape how our downtown evolves. That’s not obstructionism. It’s planning.
More broadly, we need to recover the political courage to regulate vices thoughtfully, especially when those vices are shaped by addiction-driven business models. As Ezra Klein and Jonathan Haidt discussed on a recent episode of The Ezra Klein Show, American politics has lost many of the moral and structural “frictions” that once restrained profit when it came at the expense of public health. We’ve deregulated vice in the name of freedom, then watched as addiction and dysfunction spread in plain sight.
And when communities push back—not against legalization, but in favor of balance—they’re too often dismissed as fearful, regressive, or paternalistic. But it’s not regressive to ask what kind of public square we want. It’s not paternalistic to prioritize spaces that feel welcoming to all ages. And it’s not prohibitionist to say: We can support legalization, embrace change, and still set thoughtful limits. That’s not hypocrisy. That’s stewardship.
Ross Benjamin is a writer and translator who lives with his family in Nyack.