As talk of cannabis rescheduling and potential federal legalization heats up, the same names keep showing up in headlines, panel discussions, and policy roundtables. They're the multi-state operators -- the massive, coast-to-coast cannabis companies that have built sprawling networks of cultivation sites, retail outlets, and marketing departments. They've got slick suits, polished lobbyists, and big budgets for conference sponsorships. But here's the thing: many of them are bleeding money, cutting staff, and quietly sliding toward bankruptcy.
So why are they the loudest voices in shaping cannabis policy for the future?
That question isn't just a thought experiment. For LeVar Thomas, co-founder of New York's craft cannabis brand Silly Nice, it's a pressing issue that could shape the direction of the industry for decades. And his take is blunt: "Most multi-state cannabis corporations are bleeding money, collapsing under their own weight, and leaving countless small brands with unpaid invoices in their wake. These are not the companies that should be steering the future of this industry. Cannabis should remain in the hands of small businesses -- crafted with care, grown with love, and rooted in community. We already have enough Amazons and Walmarts in every other sector. No one truly wants mass-produced weed and the fact that so many of these corporate giants are going under proves it."
That's not bitterness talking. It's reality. And it's why small cannabis brands need to be part of the federal legalization conversation in a major way.
When federal regulators or political teams start exploring cannabis reform, they tend to gravitate toward the operators with the largest footprints. The logic is simple: bigger companies must be more representative of the industry, right?
Wrong.
Multi-state operators (MSOs) have built enormous infrastructure on the assumption that legalization would quickly sweep across the country. Instead, they've been stuck in a patchwork of state-by-state regulations, each with its own taxes, compliance costs, and limitations. Scaling under those conditions is brutally expensive, and profitability is far from guaranteed.
The result? Layoffs, shuttered locations, and waves of unpaid bills to smaller vendors, including the craft cultivators and brands that supplied them with the very products that kept customers coming through the doors.
If these are the companies steering the conversation on federal legalization, we risk creating a national cannabis market that mirrors the same broken, overextended model. And that would crush the small, innovative brands that have been the heart of the culture for decades.
Small cannabis brands aren't just "smaller versions" of MSOs. They're different at the core. They tend to be locally owned, closely tied to their communities, and far more focused on quality than sheer volume.
Craft cannabis often comes from growers who obsess over terpene profiles, cannabinoid balance, and cultivation techniques that maximize flavor and effect. The batches are smaller, the attention to detail is higher, and the connection between grower and consumer is closer.
That's not romanticism -- it's economics. Small brands win loyalty by offering a product that feels personal and special. Customers remember the strain that blew their mind, the budtender who told them about it, and the brand that consistently delivers. This is the kind of value you can't mass-produce.
Silly Nice is a prime example. Known for products like its Diamond Powder, Frosted Hash Ball, Bubble Hash, and Diamond-Frosted & Live Resin Infused Flower, the Harlem-based brand has climbed into over 135 New York dispensaries in less than a year. That growth didn't come from blanketing billboards or buying shelf space -- it came from word-of-mouth, loyal customers, and quality that speaks for itself.
If federal cannabis legalization is designed without input from small brands, it's not hard to imagine the outcome. The rules could tilt heavily toward the deep-pocketed companies that can afford national compliance departments, massive cultivation warehouses, and distribution fleets.
That might sound efficient on paper, but it would likely create a bland, monopolized market where consumers get the same generic products coast-to-coast. And just like with beer, coffee, and food, consumers don't actually want that. People seek out regional differences, unique flavors, and products with stories behind them.
By locking small brands out of the discussion, federal legalization risks bulldozing the very diversity that makes cannabis culture rich. And in a cruel twist, it could even reward the same MSOs that have failed to build sustainable businesses under state markets.
The push for small brand inclusion isn't just about fairness -- it's smart economics. Small cannabis businesses have a track record of adapting quickly, innovating creatively, and staying profitable with far fewer resources.
They create local jobs, keep profits circulating in their communities, and often use sustainable or organic cultivation practices. They're also more likely to collaborate than to compete in cutthroat, price-slashing races to the bottom.
A legalization framework that supports small brands could spark a boom in local entrepreneurship, giving more people a path into the legal cannabis market without needing millions in startup capital. That's good for consumers, good for communities, and yes, even good for federal tax revenue.
LeVar Thomas puts it plainly: "Trump and Team -- you need the small brands at the table to help with this transition."
That's not just a message for one political figure or party. It's a reminder that cannabis reform is more than a regulatory checkbox -- it's a once-in-a-lifetime chance to shape an entirely new national industry.
Politicians who treat cannabis like any other commodity risk missing the cultural and economic power that comes from getting it right. And getting it right means hearing from the people who have kept the plant alive and thriving through decades of prohibition: small farmers, legacy operators, independent brands, and the communities they serve.
The cannabis community can't just hope that small brands get invited into the conversation. This is the time to demand it.
That means showing up at hearings, submitting public comments, organizing petitions, and using media to amplify the message. It means building coalitions between small brands across states to present a united front. It means reminding regulators and politicians that the "biggest" companies aren't necessarily the best representatives of the industry's needs or the consumer's wants.
Silly Nice has already proven that a small, craft brand can compete -- and win -- in one of the toughest cannabis markets in the country. But winning locally isn't enough if federal policy creates a system where only giants survive.
If the federal government takes the easy route and lets the largest cannabis companies dictate the rules, the result will be predictable: a short-term surge of consolidation followed by the collapse of overleveraged operators, leaving behind an industry dominated by a handful of corporate players.
But if small brands get their seat at the table, the U.S. cannabis market could become something else entirely -- a thriving patchwork of local flavors, regional specialties, and passionate growers who treat cannabis like the cultural treasure it is.
Federal legalization is coming, whether fast or slow. The question is who will shape it. And the answer needs to include the people who have always put the plant, the consumer, and the culture first.