In my five years of reporting on the global cannabis and psychedelic industries, I’ve seen this growth happen in real time, as the gap between those who can afford legal access and those who remain criminalized widens.

This tension between the fight for just drug policies and the race to profit from potential new markets is one that Koram explores at length in his book. A global review in The Lancet is among other recent contributions to the debate; it found cannabis-related harms to be higher in jurisdictions with commercialized legalization models than in those with decriminalization or other forms of legalization.

In The Next Fix, Koram travels across the globe, visiting some of these jurisdictions, to ask some crucial questions at what appears to be an inflection point in the debate over drug policy reform: What comes next, when the war is over? And who will the real winners be?

I sat down with him to find out. Filter’s interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Prof. Kojo Koram

Sarah Sinclair: Your reflections on your time as a lawyer at Angola Prison, on a former slave plantation in Louisiana, when the first state legalized cannabis, are such a stark portrait of the injustice at the heart of prohibition. Was that the moment when you first knew you had to write the book?

Kojo Koram: Angola is an extreme example, but the United Nations estimates that around 20 percent of the world’s prison population—2.5 million people—are in prison for growing, selling, or possessing the wrong type of drug. For me, that was the moment I realised this system wasn’t delivering what it promised.

I was working in the US when the first states [Colorado and Washington] legalized commercial cannabis markets in 2012. Seeing people imprisoned on a modern-day slave plantation for doing something that, elsewhere, people were now getting licenses for, I think that was the moment I started studying this. Eventually, it led to the opportunity to write this book, travelling from jurisdiction to jurisdiction looking at what actually changes when you implement different drug laws. 

“We could be entering a world in which criminalization and commercialization are happening simultaneously, and I think that raises some real questions.”

SS: In the book, you argue that the debate around drug laws is shifting, to be less focused on whether cannabis should be regulated and more around how. Does that mean the “War on Drugs” is ending?

KK: During the 20th century, when people debated the idea of legalizing drugs, we assumed it was a simple yes-or-no question. Either we legalize drugs, or we don’t. But what we’re seeing in the 21st century is something much more complicated. The debate is around how we might legalize these drugs and how some of the systems of commercialization actually reduce some of the impact of criminalization. But we’re also seeing the potential for criminalization and commercialization happening simultaneously.

In December 2025, Donald Trump signed an executive order to reschedule cannabis from Schedule I to Schedule III, the biggest change in US federal drug policy in the best part of a century. If you’d told a Republican during the Reagan era—when drugs were framed as public enemy number one—that a future Republican president would be signing an executive order to reschedule cannabis and fast-tracking access to psychedelics, they would have thought you’d been spiked. That’s a massive shift, and I don’t want to minimize that. 

But the same month, Trump seized Nicolas Maduro from Venezuela on charges of narcotrafficking. We could be entering a world in which criminalization and commercialization are happening simultaneously, and I think that raises some real questions.

SS: Medical cannabis legislation has shown how legal markets can coexist with continuing criminalization, where many patients can only access treatment if they can afford it while others remain criminalized. Are psychedelic frameworks at risk of repeating the same mistakes? What could an alternative model look like?

KK: In this new psychedelic industry, we’re seeing biotech companies patenting molecules and monopolizing intellectual property. That’s the traditional pharmaceutical model for raising investment to develop these medicines. I visited Australia, which became the first country to legalize prescribed psychedelic treatments [psilocybin and MDMA-assisted therapy] in 2023, but it costs around A$1,000 to access. 

Psychedelics could be one of the most transformative medical advances of the 21st century, given the scale of the global mental health crisis, but if you pick mushrooms from the ground or grow them in your back garden, you could still face criminal consequences. We need to think carefully about how we shape this emerging market to ensure we’re not reinforcing the same structures of exclusion, criminalization and violence upon the communities who suffered most during the War on Drugs.

Within cannabis, we’ve seen very different models of social equity across the US. Some states have pursued highly commercialized models while people continue serving sentences for trafficking offenses. Others, including Illinois, Massachusetts, and New York, have been much more explicit about embedding social equity into legislation. That means expunging criminal records, not just for people currently serving sentences, but for those whose convictions still prevent them from accessing jobs, student loans or travel visas. It means making sure licenses are available to people who were previously excluded from the market, and committing tax revenues to communities that were over-policed, as well as to education and public health. 

These measures can offset some of the risks as these substances become commodified, and can be put in at the point of transition. It’s in the interests of the industry. A century of the War on Drugs has embedded deep fears and stigma around these substances, and a really aggressive commercialized model is just going to facilitate a backlash.

“We have an opportunity to put policies in place that genuinely benefit those on the ground … I think there’s real value in thinking about how we can do this differently.”

 

SS: Perhaps I’m being cynical, but in an ultra-capitalist society, is commercialization inevitable? Or is there still an opportunity to build these markets differently?

KK: I think there’s an opportunity, but that window is closing. The argument needs to be made now. 

One of the industries I compare the emerging cannabis market to in the book is cocoa. Ghana is one of the world’s largest cocoa producers, yet the farmers harvesting those cocoa pods receive only a tiny fraction of the final product’s value. We need to bring together all those working on fair trade, sustainable development and environmental justice initiatives that are trying to intervene in industries like cocoa, coffee and fast-fashion. Cannabis is an entirely new industry and many of its rules haven’t been set yet. 

We have an opportunity to put policies in place that genuinely benefit those on the ground, such as protecting access to land, preventing monopolies over seeds and genetics, and creating protected geographical designations for products such as Jamaican ganja or Moroccan hash, in the same way that Champagne can only come from the Champagne region of France. That is their cultural and financial inheritance. This might be optimistic, but I think there’s real value in thinking about how we can do this differently. 

SS: Some might argue that there is a strong economic argument for a commercial market that generates tax revenue, and surely commercialization is preferable to criminalization?

KK: In the book, I tell the story of a man called Fate Winslow, who was sentenced to life without parole for facilitating a $20 cannabis transaction in Shreveport [Louisiana]. It was his third non-violent conviction. He eventually won his release after 12 years through a series of appeals, but died shortly afterwards. He spent the final years of his life in Angola Prison for facilitating a $20 cannabis transaction. That represents such a profound failure of human rights.

I absolutely recognize that commercialization is preferable to criminalization, but I think we should aim for something much higher than that. We’re living through widening wealth inequality, the devastation of the climate, and huge swathes of the human population being rendered surplus to the actual mechanics of capitalist production. Let’s not just change drug laws, but do it in a way that can mitigate and even repair some of that damage.

“One of the things I wanted to achieve with this book is to help people understand all the different parts of life that drug policy touches.”

SS: In the book, you set out a five-point plan for more fair and equitable regulation. How do we move these ideas from the fringes into mainstream political debate?

KK: For a long time, drug policy has been treated as a niche issue, and other movements have often been reluctant to engage with it because of the stigma. It took organisations like Amnesty International years to adopt a position on ending the War on Drugs, despite the most vulnerable communities being most affected by prohibition. It hasn’t been connected to environmental justice, racial justice or economic justice movements.

One of the things I wanted to achieve with this book is to help people understand all the different parts of life that drug policy touches, from the economy and medicine to the environment and crime. Connecting it to those broader movements will allow for a much more substantive idea of what drug reform might look like, rather than simply handing over a previously prohibited market to a highly commercialized capitalist model.

This is already happening in jurisdictions across the world, but it’s happening in a world where we have rampant wealth inequality, increasing corporate control over technology and infrastructure, and an erosion of living standards for many people. This isn’t the hippie dream of the 1960s, and we need to recognize that when we think about how we can use this moment to make a broader intervention to shape the economy of the 21st century. 

SS: After travelling the world researching and writing The Next Fix, what left you feeling most hopeful about the future of drug policy reform?

KK: What made me most optimistic was how people are using this moment of transition to rethink our relationship with drugs. Humans have been using cannabis and psychedelics for thousands of years, and if the planet survives, we’ll likely be taking them 1,000 years in the future. We’re not going to achieve the drug-free world the UN once promised, so the real question is how we relate to these substances. 

I was really encouraged by models like the cannabis social clubs in Barcelona, which are now being adopted in Germany. If you want something, you don’t just go and buy it, you learn how to grow it, understand different strains, and develop a more thoughtful relationship with what you consume. 

I was also inspired by the conversations around reparative justice, particularly in Colombia, where the War on Drugs wasn’t a metaphor, but a real war. We need a truth and reconciliation process, almost like they had in South Africa, to ensure that this transition benefits Indigenous communities. It’s really exciting seeing examples of reparative justice in how we use technical, legal and financial tools like intellectual property rights or guaranteed ownership within communities that have been overly-policed, to try and transfer wealth to people who’ve been most devastated by the War on Drugs. I was really optimistic to see people thinking about that—and even starting to put it into practice.

Top image shows detail from the cover of The Next Fix: The Winners and Losers Inside the Future of Drugs, to be published by Verso in late July. Images courtesy of Kojo Koram/Verso.

The post Who Will Profit Most When the Drug War Ends? appeared first on Filter.

The backlash was swift and brutal. Polanski’s support for the regulation of substances like cannabis and MDMA was “reckless,” according to media commentators. And prescribed heroin on the National Health Service? “State-sponsored drug taking.”

Britain’s prohibitionist drug policies are now so deeply entrenched that it’s hard to believe it was long a world leader in what would now be called safe supply.

From 1926, doctors were legally allowed to prescribe pharmaceutical heroin (diamorphine) and other opiates to patients with dependencies. This followed the publication of a landmark report by Sir Humphrey Rolleston, former president of the Royal College of Physicians and chair of the government Committee on Morphine and Heroin Addiction.

The Rolleston Report framed addiction as an illness and established a framework that placed primary responsibility for it with the medical profession. It allowed doctors to prescribe maintenance doses of drugs to those for whom withdrawal wasn’t feasible.

“Many psychiatrists had the view that the only treatment was to get people off drugs completely,” Dr. John Marks told Filter. Marks is a former psychiatrist who bucked that trend.

But after the adoption of the 1961 UN Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs, which set out the principles of global prohibition, Britain introduced regulations in 1971 that meant only psychiatrists could prescribe heroin at specialist clinics. This effectively ended the so-called “British system.”

“Many psychiatrists had the view that the only treatment was to get people off drugs completely,” Dr. John Marks told Filter.

Marks is a former psychiatrist who bucked that trend. He is renowned for running maintenance clinics in North West England for 13 years in the 1980s and ‘90s, in what became known as the “Merseyside experiment.”

When Marks began working as a consultant psychiatrist in Widnes, a small town near Liverpool, and was asked to take charge of an existing Rolleston-style clinic, he initially shared the view of many of his colleagues.

“It seemed so pointless to me, I wanted to try something different,” he said. “But I was told to leave it alone, that it ‘just works.’”

As time went on and he got to know the patients, his perspective began to shift. 

Mortality fell sharply in Widnes, reflecting people’s access to drugs of known dosage without adulterants.

“There was one patient, Sid, a reasonably smart, working-class ex-docker, with a wife and kids. There was nothing to distinguish him from you or me,” he said. “[Sid] was the opposite of what the public thinks of as an ‘addict,’ and that made me look into this further.”

With research funding from the government, Marks and his colleague, Dr. Russell Newcombe, began investigating the effects of the Widnes Drug Dependency Clinic, monitoring patients and comparing outcomes to those in Bootle, a nearby town where only abstinence-based treatment was offered. 

Mortality fell sharply in Widnes compared to areas where heroin was not prescribed, reflecting people’s access to drugs of known dosage without adulterants. That’s in line with what we know about modern safe supply programs.

“In Bootle, there was a 16 percent mortality rate,” Marks said of that cohort. “In Widnes, we didn’t have a single death.”

But more surprising, Marks said, was the impact on rates of drug dependency. “There was a decrease in incidences of addiction from 207.6 per 100,000 to 15.83. That is an 18-fold, over 90-percent reduction.”

Marks was then invited to set up a similar clinic in Liverpool, which was “as successful, on a much larger scale.”

In addition, when people could obtain drugs legally—and without having to find the means to pay for them, due to the United Kingdom’s universal health care system—they were far less likely to be arrested.

“In the comparison group, there were 6.88 criminal convictions per patient per year,” Marks said. “In Widnes, it was 0.44. That’s a 12-fold reduction.”

Marks was then invited to set up a similar clinic in Liverpool, which was “as successful, on a much larger scale.” So much so that in 1990, the retail chain Marks & Spencer sponsored the world’s first international conference on harm reduction in the city, after seeing a dramatic fall in shoplifting at its local stores.

After his research was published in 1991, journalists began contacting Marks, and he gave numerous media interviews about his work, which was often portrayed as “controversial.”

As Toby Seddon wrote in a 2020 paper about Marks and the Merseyside model, his supporters saw him as a “humane doctor responding pragmatically to an extraordinary social problem,” but to his critics, he was an “irresponsible maverick who risked prolonging addiction careers and expanding the heroin-using population.”

As US influence drove international pressure, the British clinics were closed down in 1995. Marks became “vilified” and left the UK.

A number of senior politicians at the time, including the Conservative Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and Health Minister Norman Fowler, were supportive of Marks. But political pressure was mounting—including from the United States, where President Richard Nixon’s “War on Drugs,” enthusiastically escalated by his successors, had ramped up enforcement of prohibition.

“It was two opposing political ideologies,” Neil Woods told Filter. A former police officer-turned advocate with LEAP (Law Enforcement Action Partnership), he’s now a prominent British opponent of the drug war he once fought.

“The British system viewed someone with a problem as having an unfortunate medical condition and offered them help,” he said. “The American system saw addiction as a moral failing [for] which people should be criminalized. But after the Second World War, we owed America enormous amounts of money.”

As US influence drove international pressure to establish coordinated global prohibition, the British clinics were closed down in 1995. Marks became “vilified,” as he put it, and left the UK for New Zealand, eventually leaving the field of addiction medicine too.

Yet the Merseyside experiment would be used to inform similar drug policies and regulation pilots around the world, such as Switzerland’s prescribed heroin program, which launched in 1994.

An evaluation of its results found large reductions in illicit drug use and drug-related convictions and significant improvement in participants’ health and social status. No overdose-related deaths were recorded.

Implementing programs like the Merseyside model once again would not necessarily require a major change in legislation.

“Almost all of those in the initial cohorts [of the program] are no longer using heroin,” Woods noted. “As soon as you medically control it, the market shrinks. In Switzerland, there are no children dealing heroin.”

Meanwhile, in England, the Children’s Society estimates that 46,000 children are being exploited by ‘“County Lines” gangs. Over 300,000 adults were registered with drug and alcohol treatment services in 2024, and drug-related deaths are at a 30-year high.

“There are many reasons why [current drug laws] are not working,” Woods said. “Not least of which is that criminalizing people stigmatizes them and makes it harder to get help.”

But implementing programs like the Merseyside model once again would not necessarily require a major change in legislation.

In 2019, a heroin-assisted treatment pilot was launched in Middlesbrough, with a licence to prescribe patients a supervised dose of diamorphine twice a day. 

An assessment by the University of Teesside found that the majority of those who took part in the first year reported improvements in wellbeing and quality of life, with none reporting any new injection-related wounds or infections. Most either stopped or reduced their use of unregulated heroin, and there was a reported 60-percent reduction in criminalized behaviors. There were no deaths among participants over the 12-month period. 

But the program was forced to close in 2022, after its funding was cut. 

Marks is saddened by the current state of British drug policy, and the sense that even if the country is able to move forward once again, it wasted decades by banning a model that “just works.”

The UK government continues to insist it will not revisit laws to allow for overdose prevention centers—though Scotland opened its first in 2025, authorized and funded by the Scottish government—despite recent pressure from the UK Parliament’s Scottish Affairs Committee. 

At the Scottish Green Party’s annual conference in October, members voted overwhelmingly to approve a policy calling for the regulation of drugs in Scotland.

MSP Maggie Chapman

Maggie Chapman, a member of the Scottish Parliament and the Scottish Greens’ spokesperson on drugs, said the country’s “appalling drug death numbers” show the drug war has “obviously” failed. Her party now calls for a “compassionate” and “evidence-led” approach, with all drugs—including alcohol and nicotine—regulated according to risks, alongside a clear prevention strategy.

“It has to sit alongside a preventative approach,” Chapman told Filter. “That includes investing in care and support services that aren’t about punishment or fixing the problem once it’s happened.”

The Greens believe their policy strikes the right balance between strict prohibition and an unrestrained commercial market.

This supposed sweet spot of regulated control is illustrated by a bell curve in Marks’ seminal 1991 paper, titled, “The North Wind and the Sun.”

“Free markets promote consumption, black markets peddle consumption, regulated markets control consumption,” Marks said.

He’s saddened by the current state of British drug policy, and the sense that even if the country is able to move forward once again, it wasted decades by banning a model that “just works.”

Top photograph (adapted) via PublicDomainPictures. Photograph of Maggie Chapman by Sarah Sinclair. Graphic courtesy of Dr. John Marks.

LEAP was formerly the fiscal sponsor of The Influence Foundation, which operates Filter. Filter‘s Editorial Independence Policy applies.

The post The Merseyside Experiment: Will UK Recall Its Heroin-Prescribing History? appeared first on Filter.

“At a certain point, I thought, we have to do something different,” the professor of psychiatry and head of molecular neuroimaging at the Central Institute of Mental Health (CIMH) in Mannheim, Germany, told Filter.

“That’s when I started to become interested in psychedelics.”

At a time when many countries face mental health crises and access to effective therapies is limited, psychedelics represent an exciting new frontier. And after decades of prohibition, a number of European nations are now taking steps toward increasing access to these treatments.

A growing body of scientific research is pointing to psilocybin, in particular, as a promising therapeutic for depression, along with other mental health conditions, in patients who have not responded to conventional treatments.

“We had some patients who had taken 20 different antidepressants without success, and we have seen some amazing improvements.”

Gründer began researching psychedelic-assisted therapies in 2021. He led the EPIsoDE study, which concluded in 2024 and is said to be the largest academic clinical trial of its kind, investigating the effects of psilocybin in combination with psychotherapy in 144 patients with treatment-resistant depression (TRD).

According to Gründer, the findings, which are yet to be published, show that around a third of participants experienced significant benefits.

“We had some patients who had taken 20 different antidepressants without success, and we have seen some amazing improvements. We had patients who were still in remission two years after the single dose,” he said. “I believe if we had the opportunity to treat patients with a second or third dose, we could really change the trajectory for them and increase the number who responded.”

This study, along with the growing, wider evidence base, played a critical role in the approval of Germany’s first compassionate use program for psychedelic therapies in mental illness—the first of its kind in the European Union.

On July 11, the Federal Institute for Drugs and Medical Devices (BfArM) gave the go-ahead for two medical facilities—the CIMH in Mannheim and the OVID Clinic in Berlin—to offer psilocybin in exceptional cases to adults with TRD, under the direction of Gründer, who made the application.

While no drugs containing psilocybin have been authorized for medical use in the EU, Germany’s Expanded Access Program permits the use of as-yet-unapproved therapies in patients suffering from serious or life-threatening illnesses.

Now that this first milestone has been reached, other German research and medical institutions are expected to join the program.

To be eligible, patients must meet strict criteria, such as not responding to treatment with approved drugs and being unsuitable for clinical trials. Even so, with around 5.3 million people in Germany living with depression—and around a third of cases thought to be treatment-resistant—demand is expected to exceed supply.

While the program currently allows for up to 200 patients, there are already over 100 on the waiting list, and the two facilities will only have the capacity to treat around 50 people in the first year.

Now that this first milestone has been reached, however, other German research and medical institutions are expected to join the program.

“I think within the next 12 months, we will have more sites in Germany that can treat patients,” Gründer said. “Then we might see up to 500 patients, but this is still a small number compared to the demand.”

Building the Real-World Evidence Base

Compassionate use programs “cannot replace approval” of psychedelic medicines such as psilocybin, Gründer said, and there is still work to do to integrate these therapies into the standard treatment of mental illness. However, the developments in Germany are likely to pave the way for further advances.

“I think our program will inspire other clinicians and researchers to start such a program in their country,” Gründer said. “I’m sure 12 months from now, we will have several more such programs in Europe.”

Switzerland, which is not an EU member, implemented a framework for the therapeutic use of psilocybin, MDMA and LSD in certain conditions in 2014. But the fact that prescribers there are only required to report adverse events means that over the last decade, no data on patient outcomes have been collected. Germany’s program will collect and share data on patient outcomes, as well as any potential adverse effects.

“This is a great opportunity to gather real-world evidence for this drug, in this indication, to provide to the public and the authorities,” Gründer said.

“Different countries must come together and compile the evidence that we gain through these programs,” he continued. “We get more evidence every year, and this will lead to more compassionate use programs in different indications, and probably with other psychedelics, like LSD.”

“With Germany being the European powerhouse, we can hope that these developments will have a knock-on effect.”

His European colleagues agree. Professor David Nutt, a leading neuropsychopharmacologist and chair of the British charity Drug Science, told Filter that the program would “massively accelerate work with these important drugs.”

Dr. Anne Schlag, the charity’s acting CEO and head of research, said the real-world data it provides could be instrumental in informing future policy change.

“With Germany being the European powerhouse, we can hope that these developments will have a knock-on effect in terms of legitimizing psychedelic medicine more widely in Europe,” Schlag told Filter.

“The collection of real-world data will be essential for this, and German researchers now have a unique opportunity to systematically collect, analyze and share high-quality data, and to impact future policymaking.”

Policy Shifts in the UK

The United Kingdom, while no longer a member of the EU, has in the past followed in Germany’s footsteps in drug policy reform—notably legalizing medical cannabis in 2018, a year after German lawmakers did the same.

In August, the government’s Home Office accepted proposals put forward by the Advisory Council for the Misuse of Drugs to remove the requirement for a license to research Schedule 1 drugs such as psilocybin and MDMA.

According to James Bunn, a legal and regulatory consultant in the psychedelic sector, while it’s not clear yet what wider impact this will have, the move should make it easier to conduct vital research.

“This reform should not only reduce bureaucratic burdens but also expand the range of institutions able to study Schedule 1 drugs, ultimately enriching the evidence base for future regulatory decisions,” Bunn told Filter. He believes this shift will be buoyed by Germany’s new “progressive policies,” which could have a “de-stigmatizing effect.”

“For the UK to keep pace, it must move beyond its existing ‘Early Access to Medicines Scheme,’ which is ill-suited for psilocybin, and establish a new framework to mirror Germany’s,” he said, though exactly what this would look like is still an “open question.”

Davis believes the first psychedelic drugs are “on the cusp” of UK market authorization. “We’re quite confident that the changes abroad are going to lend weight to our own campaign.”

“We’ve got a limited amount of time to put the infrastructure and regulation in place to fill the vacuum that psychedelics will find themselves in,” Timmy Davis, CEBDP’s director of psychedelic policy and regulation, and policy director for the public-facing campaign Psilocybin Access Rights, told Filter.

Davis believes the first psychedelic drugs are “on the cusp” of market authorization in the UK, but he’s skeptical that the country will see any regulatory change before then.

“Now that the government has facilitated research, I don’t think it will reschedule until a drug reaches market authorization, which I would imagine will be another three years,” he said. “Then, post-market authorization, we are almost certainly looking at a considerable period where it will only be available on private prescription.”

“That doesn’t mean we aren’t continuing to push and have these conversations in Parliament,” he said. “We’re quite confident that the changes abroad are going to lend weight to our own campaign.”

Czech Republic to Legalize Psilocybin Therapy in 2026

In the meantime, in the Czech Republic, an amendment to legalize psilocybin therapy has recently passed through the entire legislative process.

The new law, expected to take effect from 2026, will allow physicians with psychiatric or psychotherapeutic qualifications to administer psilocybin to patients with certain conditions, in the context of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy.

“This is a huge breakthrough for mental health care,” Dr. Rita Kočárová, a psychologist, psychotherapist and leading psychedelics expert in the Czech Republic, told Filter. “This change paves the way for a new form of legal support for people suffering from depression, anxiety, addiction and other mental health issues.”

As a researcher at the country’s National Institute of Mental Health, Kočárová has investigated the therapeutic potential of psilocybin, ayahuasca, 5-MeO-DMT, and other psychedelics. She was the principal investigator of a nationwide study mapping the phenomenon of psychedelic use, supported by the Technology Agency of the Czech Republic. The clinical and epidemiological research has been “essential“ for this major political change, she said.

“I hope we will be able to build a sustainable, credible and ethical system of care that can serve as a model for Europe and beyond.”

However, the details of the legal framework—including which conditions will qualify, and how and by whom the treatment will be provided—are still being discussed.

As founder of the international initiative Beyond Psychedelics, the professional educational institutions Beyond Academy and Beyond Institute, and the Czech Psychedelic Society, Kočárová is working closely with colleagues to support the Ministry of Health in setting regulations that are “open enough” to provide access, while ensuring a high standard of care.

“Ideally, this would be carried out by well-qualified experts in multidisciplinary teams, which I believe are the backbone of truly beneficial care,” she said.

“Simply providing access is not enough; what truly matters is the quality of training, integration into mental health care and clear professional standards,” she continued. “In the Czech Republic, we have already set up professional training programs combining medical safety, psychotherapeutic depth and human-centered care.”

If they get it right, it could be a blueprint for other countries to follow.

“I hope that, through collaboration between regulatory bodies and psychedelic experts, we will be able to build a sustainable, credible and ethical system of care that can serve as a model for Europe and beyond,” Kočárová said.

The Beginning of European Acceptance

Opinions are mixed on whether, and when, other European states will explore the rescheduling of psychedelic drugs. But Josh Hardman, CEO of the consulting company Psychedelic Alpha, told Filter that discussions around other compassionate use programs and “legal carve-outs” are already underway in some countries.

“Europeans often have to wait longer to access innovative medicines than their American counterparts, especially for more complex or novel treatments,” he said. “I think that these moves in the Czech Republic and Germany reflect, to some extent, a concern that Europeans might have to wait quite some time before psychedelic therapies are available and reimbursable in many member states. I would not be surprised if other European countries followed suit in the coming years.”

“This is for the pursuit of better mental health and well-being for millions.”

In 2024, the EU announced it would fund its first-ever multi-site clinical study into psychedelic-assisted therapy, with a consortium of 19 European organizations investing €6.5 million to explore whether psilocybin therapy can help reduce psychological and existential distress in patients with progressive incurable illnesses.

Meanwhile, an EU citizen’s initiative, led by PsychedliCARE, is attempting to collect 1 million signatures in 2025 to request that the European Commission take action to “foster equitable, timely, affordable, safe and legal access to innovative psychedelic-assisted therapies.” It marks the first time a movement of such scale has called on European leaders to address the issue.

Kočárová believes that with research growing at an “accelerating rate,” and public initiatives starting to catch up, we are at the beginning of an era of broader acceptance of psychedelic medicine in Europe.

“As in the Czech Republic and other countries, it is only a matter of time before other substances, contexts, and changes are sensibly and safely regulated and made available to those who need them, as well as to those who can benefit from them in other ways,” Kočárová said. “This is for the pursuit of better mental health and well-being for millions.”

Image (cropped) by Zelch Csaba via Pexels

The post Europe’s “Huge Breakthrough” in Access to Psychedelic Therapies appeared first on Filter.

“Our vision from the beginning was to create something unique, that was not the typical stoner cliche,” Tribe founder Stefan Röhrl, who ran clubs in Barcelona and Ibiza before returning to Germany, told Filter. “I wanted to create somewhere that my wife and I can go and feel comfortable. Where you can go after dinner for drinks, but still enjoy cannabis.”

On April 1 2024, after the government passed the Cannabisgesetz (Cannabis Act), Germany became one of the first European countries to introduce a form of legalization for adult use.

The law decriminalized possession of up to 25 grams of cannabis in public and 50g at home for over-18s, as well as permitting home cultivation of up to three plants and the establishment of nonprofit cannabis associations, for up to 500 members to grow it collectively.

Phase 2 of the bill, providing for a pilot program of limited commercial sales, hit a stumbling block when the former coalition government collapsed in November.

Tribe is not one of these associations. Instead, it operates under what Röhrl describes as “workarounds”—tapping into existing regulations such as medical cannabis laws and state smoking permits to allow people to bring their own cannabis to consume on site, until a framework for full legalization is introduced.

However, Phase 2 of the bill, providing for a pilot program of limited commercial sales under scientific monitoring—seen by many as a test case for wider reform across Europe—hit a stumbling block when the former coalition government collapsed in November, plunging the country into political uncertainty.

National elections in February resulted in a new government, led by the Christian Democratic Union (CDU) and its Bavarian counterpart, the Christian Social Union (CSU), in coalition with the center-left Social Democratic Party (SDP). Representatives of the center-right CDU/CSU, appointed as drug commissioner, minister of health and minister of food and agriculture, are now primarily responsible for implementing Phase 2.

Approvals of cannabis association licenses slowed significantly following the change in government, with just over 200 permits issued out of over 600 applications. Strict regulations on how associations can operate, such as limits on numbers of members and paid employees, also create financial and logistical challenges. It can cost anything from €100,000 to €1 million to launch an association, with many reliant on external investment and two already declaring bankruptcy.

“Most like to consume with other people, and if you don’t create a space for the people to do that, then they still have to do it in hiding.”

“The lawmakers have set up a system in which they don’t want cannabis clubs to behave economically,” Frederik Blockslaff, a lawyer who has helped 26 associations obtain licences, told Filter. “But you have to—if you want production for 500 people, plus all of the lighting and technology, it’s an investment of around €300,000. You have to rely on investors, and they are always going to want to see a return on their investment.”

Associations must be located at least 100 meters from any public place frequented by under-18s, and consumption is strictly prohibited on site. According to Blockslaff, this limits the effectiveness of strategies to reduce problematic use.

“The government wants you to get your stuff and go away; there is basically no interaction,” he said. “You can have flyers and remind members of the rules, but you can’t address it properly because they aren’t allowed to smoke inside.”

For many consumers, cannabis represents community, so this “anti-social” club model has led them to find workarounds to preserve that.

“Cannabis is a social thing,” Röhrl said. “Most like to consume with other people, and if you don’t create a space for the people to do that, then they still have to do it in hiding.”

“Places like [Tribe] are necessary to create a safe space for consumption, for social interactivity,” he added. In Spain, which has its own cannabis social club model, “the social part of it was very important, so it’s a shame that the German model has excluded that.”

Stefan Röhrl 

Blum Cannabis Association in Berlin is yet to produce its first harvest, but is already building a thriving community by hosting events at other venues across the city, with a waiting list of 2,600.

“It’s more than a [cannabis] club, it’s creating a certain type of lifestyle,” co-founder Zoe Killing told Filter. “What we are aiming to create is a place for everyone, where everyone feels represented. Even people who wouldn’t necessarily think that it would be a place for them, we want them to feel welcome.”

One year on, legal sales are still only estimated to account for around 6 percent of the total cannabis market.

Tia, a member, said she has made more meaningful connections and felt more comfortable at Blum’s events than she would on a typical night out in Berlin.

“It’s bigger than just meeting up and getting high, it’s the whole culture around it,” she told Filter. “As cliche as it sounds, you do tend to get deeper …  the relationships feel a lot more genuine.”

“The feedback I get from women [at Blum events] is that they feel safe in these spaces, too,” Tia added.

One year on, with associations slow to get started, legal sales are still only estimated to account for around 6 percent of the total German cannabis market, according to analysis by Whitney Economics. But prescriptions are plugging some of the gap. In August 2024, new regulations made it easier to access medical cannabis; 21 medical specialisms are now eligible to issue prescriptions, without the need for prior approval from insurance providers.

Telemedicine clinics have made it possible to order a prescription online in less than 30 seconds, without the need for a consultation, and will deliver it within an hour via Uber Eats. As a result, the number of people obtaining prescriptions has risen dramatically. It’s expected to reach 4 million over the next four years, representing around €2 billion in annual sales.

The government has said it will carry out a re-evaluation of the legalization law later in 2025, prompting speculation that it could try to backtrack.

Tribe caters to people who obtain their cannabis either way.

“Clients bring their own cannabis to consume, either from their medical prescription or their club-grown product,” Röhrl explained. “We additionally have developed a telemedicine platform that allows people to receive their prescription directly at the lounge.”

Right-leaning politicians have been vocal about their opposition to the current state of play. Christin Christ, the CDU health representative in Hamburg, recently called it a “cardinal mistake,” while Nina Warken, the new federal health minister, says she wants to “restrict the easily accessible online prescriptions.”

The government has said it will carry out a re-evaluation of the legalization law later in 2025, prompting speculation that it could try to backtrack on the removal of cannabis from Germany’s list of “narcotics.”

Peter Homberg, a regulatory expert at the law firm Gunnercooke, has predicted that a “complete reversal” of the law is “unlikely,” but that the review could see amendments such as a reduction in the cannabis possession threshold, and/or adjustments to tighten medical regulations. 

“Decriminalization is working. Enforcement resources have shifted, arrest rates are down and the sky hasn’t fallen.” 

“What we’re seeing right now is a political recalibration, not a rollback,” Jamie Pearson, founder of New Holland Group, a consultancy with clients in the cannabis space, told Filter. “The CDU has always voiced caution on cannabis, but a full reversal is politically and socially improbable. The data coming in from Phase 1 is clear: Decriminalization is working. Enforcement resources have shifted, arrest rates are down and the sky hasn’t fallen.” 

According to an editorial published by Der Spiegel, ​​”approximately 100,000 criminal proceedings have been avoided” since the law change. Following the publication of the latest crime statistics earlier in 2025, media have reported that cannabis-related arrests fell by 56 percent in Bavaria. Reports from North Rhine-Westphalia, a region that has issued a high number of association licenses, say legalization has “significantly” reduced pressures on police.

Many police officers have welcomed legalization, according to Tobias Pietsch, a cannabis activist from Freiburg. Meanwhile, decriminalization and home cultivation are changing public perceptions.

“The stigma is still there, but it is reducing,” Pietsch told Filter. “People who wouldn’t have done it before have started growing as a hobby. They share their plants with their family and put them on social media. They talk about it more, so it becomes more normalized and not such a taboo.”

Tobias Pietsch

However, with the Interior Ministry claiming that there is “no evidence that partial legalization has curbed the illegal market or reduced demand in any way,” pilot commercial sales could be crucial to building an evidence base to support wider regulation across Europe.

Pilots with scientific evaluation, like those being conducted in Switzerland and the Netherlands, also offer a potential way around international laws, such as the UN single convention, which prohibit commercial cannabis sales.

“Germany has the chance to lead—but only if legislators follow the facts, not the fear.”

“Pilot programs should answer the critical questions that politicians ask,” Daniel S. Hübner, senior science manager for the Cannabis Research Lab at the Humboldt University of Berlin, said at a cannabis industry conference in Berlin. “Now we have a new CDU Ministry of Health, we need really good data for continuing this direction of travel … We want to show how having open sales can help harm reduction and help people use cannabis with fewer problems.”

Some have suggested the government could approve Phase 2 in exchange for a ban on home growing; others expect that without the political impetus to see it through, it will simply fall by the wayside.

One thing most agree on, though, is that whatever amendments the autumn evaluation brings, the cannabis-reform genie is out of the bottle.

“What Germany needs now is political will and evidence-based policy to move forward with the pilot programs,” Pearson said. “If we let short-term political turbulence derail long-term structural reform, we’ll miss the chance to create a new regulatory model for Europe. The truth is, the illicit market isn’t waiting, and neither are consumers. Germany has the chance to lead—but only if legislators follow the facts, not the fear.”

Photographs of Tribe interior and Stefan Röhrl by Sarah Sinclair. Photograph of Tobias Pietsch courtesy of Pietsch.

The post One Year On, German Cannabis Legalization Has Uncertain Future appeared first on Filter.

In 2020, after a decade of editing Legalizace, Czechia’s first pro-cannabis magazine, Veverka was accused of the “spreading of toxicomania” (síření toxikomanie), which can be roughly translated from Czech law as promoting drug addiction.

According to local media reports, police examined 60 issues of the magazine from 2010 to 2020 and brought more than 300 charges against him. It came two months after Veverka—a well-known activist and campaigner—announced his intention to stand as a political candidate for the Senate.

In 2021 a court imposed a fine and a 12-month prison sentence, suspended for 30 months. After a higher-court appeal in 2023, the suspended prison sentence was revoked, but Veverka and his publishing company were fined a larger total of 250,000 Czech crowns (around $10,400).

He has continued to appeal his conviction, and in December 2024, the Constitutional Court of the Czech Republic ruled that some of the articles he published may be protected by the constitution.

“Without open and free debate—even on controversial issues such as substance abuse—democracy cannot function effectively,” stated Tomáš Langášek, judge rapporteur of the nation’s highest court.

Veverka’s case has now been sent back to the regional court of appeal for a new hearing on the articles in question.

As his country takes tentative steps towards full cannabis legalization—personal possession was decriminalized in 2010, and medical cannabis legalized in 2013—Veverka spoke out to Filter about his five-year fight to clear his name.

“We were mirroring the prohibition propaganda—we wanted to publish articles about legal and illegal substances, highlighting positive and negative aspects to educate the public.”

Sarah Sinclair: Going back to the beginning, how did you first become involved in the cannabis and drug policy reform space?

Robert Veverka: Since I was 18 I have been interested in cannabis. I traveled for a couple of years and spent time in the Netherlands, where I saw the legislation there. Although it’s not perfect, it’s tolerated. I went back to the Czech Republic in 2007 and was asked by my friends to help them to organize a demonstration for the legalization of cannabis. I became the main organizer and it had a couple of thousand people there. After that I became involved with the NGO behind it, and a year later, a spokesperson for the organization.

SS: Legalizace was the first pro-cannabis magazine in Czechia. What was the catalyst for launching it?

RV: We started a campaign helping people who were looking for medicinal cannabis. We gave them seeds for free and helped them find information. As more and more people were asking, I would spend a lot of time answering their questions one by one. At a certain point I thought maybe it would be cool to start some sort of media publication, where we could actually collect all the questions and then find the answers.

SS: The magazine became something of a collectible item for many readers, marking a moment in history—and you’ve said you wanted it to be something your mother or grandmother could pick up and read. Can you tell me more about the type of content you were publishing?

RV: We were covering all kinds of topics, like medicinal use of cannabis, legislation, industrial hemp, other substances and topics related to global war on drugs. I always said we were mirroring the prohibition propaganda—we wanted to publish articles about legal and illegal substances, highlighting positive and negative aspects to educate the public.

We were asking people like police, artists and politicians what they thought about prohibition, and working with professionals and experts on topics like harm reduction and rehabilitation. Even the national coordinator of drug policy, Jindřich Vobořil, would write an article on a regular basis.

We also had lots of studies and reports from abroad. We were highlighting information from other countries that were regulating cannabis in ways that respect the human rights and freedom of people to use cannabis or do business with cannabis—to see cannabis as a regular commodity.

It was published six times per year, with 10,000 copies per issue, and it was openly distributed all over the country—it’s not like it was underground. You could buy the magazine everywhere. It was used in the universities as a source of information and it was even quoted in parliament. It was respected and running smoothly until I openly promoted that I was going to stand as a candidate to Senate in a central district of Prague 1 in 2020. Two months later, the police contacted me to inform me they were starting prosecutions for toxicomania.

“Maybe someone thought that I was getting too influential … I was promoting certain changes which the police and conservative groups of politicians were not in favor of.” 

SS: That must have come as a shock, especially given how well the magazine was known at that point?

RV: It was surprising. All of the sudden they took 10 years of my work and said, “Actually, you were committing a crime.” The prosecution itself is already a punishment, because it has an impact on everything. It has an impact on you and your state of mind and on your family. Of course, you feel bad about it because you didn’t think you were committing a crime. I was publishing information.

I wasn’t teaching people how to do drugs with the magazine, I was helping those who already do drugs to have enough information to make decisions about informed use … so they understand the benefits and the risks. My intention was to bring something which was missing … to give as much information as possible so that people could decide if they wanted prohibition or regulation.

SS: Do you believe that the arrest may have been politically motivated?

RV: There’s no proof that it was a political order. I was known by these authorities. When I published the very first issue in 2010 I introduced myself to the chief of the police anti-drug department. I interviewed him and met him several times during debates on topics related to the regulation of cannabis.

I don’t know, maybe someone thought that I was getting too influential or that I could have some impact on public opinion. I was promoting certain changes which the police and conservative groups of politicians were not in favor of. 

SS: You have a young family. This whole thing must have taken a toll, financially and emotionally. Can you share a bit more about the impact it has had?

RV: I had a small child when I was going to court and I was in the news. Now she’s 7 years old and she still doesn’t actually know that I’m a “criminal”—we had to protect her. I also ended up in debt; they basically helped me go bankrupt by prosecuting me.

It impacted the business itself because they didn’t only prosecute me, but also the company. I continued publishing the magazine for another two years after my arrest, then I stopped the magazine and was just spending all my energy, money and resources on fighting the system.

But it has had a positive impact, too. People and experts have realized that this is too much. My case opened up a debate on the subject of changing the very section on the dissemination of intoxication for which I was prosecuted. As Aldous Huxley said:¨Experience is not what happens to you; it’s what you do with what happens to you.”

SS: in 2023, the year the appeals court upheld your conviction, the government began to prepare a draft law to legalize cannabis for personal use and self-cultivation. Do you find it ironic that this is now making its way through parliament while your case is still being pursued?

RV: Absolutely, it’s super-ironic. The bill is now in its first reading in parliament, so there is still some way to go before it will be legal. We also have a parliamentary election in October, so we don’t know if the coalition will manage to actually pass the law or if we will have to start all over again.

I suppose that there will be changes in drug-policy law sooner than any court would let me go free. I can’t quite imagine they’d say, “Sorry, we made a mistake.” But it would be nice, of course. If cannabis legislation changes for the better, it will also affect the court’s decision as the judges will have to obey the new legislation. So I’d rather wait for the laws to change than wait in court for justice. 

“There has been gross censorship, and I don’t like that, because I was born in the 1970s in communist Czechoslovakia, when you could give a speech that the regime didn’t like and you could get in trouble.”

SS: As a journalist myself, and a former editor of a UK cannabis magazine, what happened to you hits very close to home. Is there a part of you that feels a responsibility to fight this in the interests of journalistic freedom?

RV: I’d like to settle this once and for all for everyone else who wants to write about cannabis. In this case, there has been gross censorship, and I don’t like that, because I was born in the 1970s in communist Czechoslovakia, when you could give a speech that the regime didn’t like and you could get in quite a lot of trouble. And in the court I felt that they were using similar tools and just trying to suppress an independent magazine because it could perhaps cause a “revolution.”

I really don’t know if they thought I was too “dangerous” or, as I said, too “influential,” and that’s why they decided to silence me—and for a while they did. The print magazine hasn’t been published since 2022. I’m now ending the lease on my office with magazines everywhere, which I have to get rid of. If the whole thing wasn’t such a bitter tale, it would actually be a funny story to tell—how you can become a state enemy just by starting an independent media company.

SS: Since the verdict you’ve had a lot of public support, both at home and internationally. Did that give you hope?

RV: The support was of course very encouraging. The intention of my work was to do something good for society and I received a lot of public support. There was even a public crowdfunding fundraiser to help with legal costs, and I received attention in the national media, on TV and in international cannabis magazines. I had a lot of support, so I felt that I was on the right track and that I was doing the right thing.

“The situation we have now, where people go to jail for a couple of plants—for a victimless “crime”—that’s something I cannot accept.”

SS: You co-founded the NGO Rational Regulation.cz (RARE) last year, which is promoting “rational change” in cannabis policy in Czechia. What does that look like to you?

RV: We stopped calling our goals legalization and started to call it rational regulation, but we basically still want the same thing. We want rights for people to grow cannabis for personal use and the right to cultivation—or delegation of cultivation, so if I’m not able to grow myself I can delegate my right to someone else through organizations like cannabis social clubs or other concepts. We also want a regulated cannabis market. Last year, we ran a national campaign in which I presented these points in the media.

The situation we have now, where people go to jail for a couple of plants—for a victimless “crime”—that’s something I cannot accept. That’s why I first got involved, because I couldn’t believe we would actually vote for a government which tells us that certain plants are prohibited to grow for personal use in your own backyard. Over the years, I have seen the damage that prohibition does. How it destroys people’s lives and their families more than any cannabis. It is an unacceptable situation.

SS: Given everything that has happened to you, how do you feel about the future, both personally and for the movement as a whole?

RV: I see the future in cannabis. It’s the future crop and it used to be the past crop, which actually helped us to get where we are now. [Hemp] was our main source of materials for sails or ropes, [and was used for] making paper, clothes, food and medicine.

I can see the global change happening. In my lifetime I want to see cannabis removed from the list of global illegal substances and treated like a common plant, like hops or anything else useful. It is hard to believe that we live in a society where we deprive ourselves of such an important plant because of the prejudices caused by anti-drug propaganda, and where we make criminals out of anyone who tastes the “forbidden fruit.”

Yet the illegality of cannabis and prohibition as a whole is the real crime—a crime against humanity. That’s my power, that’s the force which helps me to go on. 

Top photograph of Robert Veverka in court by Karel Bednar. 

Inset photograph of a copy of Legalizace courtesy of Robert Veverka.

The post The Czech Cannabis Journalist Fighting a “Toxicomania” Conviction appeared first on Filter.