Discussions with Dealers

There’s a pretty good chance that some of you reading this are a guy. And while I could go on to discuss the complexities of an industry so male-dominated that two simple words could achieve such understandings, I won’t. We have many people working in the criminalised cannabis industry more than our parents probably think. Some dealers are students running a side-hustle, some are full-time creatives on-call for deals, and many are very nice people. They aren’t the stock-photo type of person Paula Bennett wants us to believe, but most of us will know that—because most of us have a guy.

If the referendum gets more than 50% yes votes, and then if the proposed bill passes in parliament, New Zealand will legalise recreational marijuana. We’ve heard the potential this has for our economy, our current justice system, but we haven’t heard much about what this possible new world will mean for our current dealers.

The transition from an illegal to a legal market won’t necessarily be straightforward. Since weed was criminalised in the 60’s, dealers, and particularly growers, have continued to become experts in a horticulture industry that they’re not allowed to be experts in. Many dealers and growers nowadays have a skill for good weed like winemakers for good grapes. The potential held for this expertise to develop under a legal system is bound to be exciting.

The prospect of this revolutionary new market already has many people making moves to capitalise—I’m sure your flatmate Kyle has already pitched his start up. There are empty warehouses situated across the country waiting to be filled if we transition to regulate an already existing industry.

However, these warehouses aren’t being scouted by my guy, or my guy’s guy. It seems the vast majority of those investing don’t have a background like those operating underground. In this possible new weed economy, who stands to profit most? The guy above, or below ground?

I don’t have those answers. What I do have is a handful of Wellington-based dealers who were comfortable chatting about their industry and how this possible law reform will affect them.

Our first dealer, Tommy*, grew up growing weed with his family and like many others has a lived experience in this field. He’s part of a small collective of friends who often put their money together to buy in bulk. It’s mostly full-time for them, though they still struggle financially. “People have an assumption that we make a lot of money, which isn’t the case,” he admits.

Eric* is a student and dealer. He’s been selling on the side since moving to Wellington a few years ago. After losing his part-time job suddenly last year, he’s bumped up the dealing to supplement his Studylink income.

Mary* is one of few female dealers in what we know to be a predominantly male-heavy industry. Being such has come with funny moments, like when new customers walk blank past her because they expected her to be an actual guy. She operates mostly full time and has been for a few years now.

Jane* has been dealing since they started uni, when they too began experiencing financial hardship. They’re genuinely passionate about the plant, particularly the medicinal benefits. Since graduating, they’ve increased their dealing capacity, and are “never not on call.”

The dealing environment differs immensely between urban and rural spaces, which is important context as we’re just scratching the Welly-specific surface here. For those, consumers or otherwise, unaware of the current landscape— it functions on a multitude of levels. If wholesalers, or “head honcho’s” as Eric puts it, are at the top, then distribution trickles down and down an unlimited number of dealers until it reaches your guy. Tommy tells me that many dealers have past experience in growing, but for the most part they’re what you could consider freelancers.

In an established industry with no regulation, no taxes, and at the higher end, instances of gang-related violence, many individual dealers have long been trying to create safe work. “People assume we’re criminals, gang members, that we do nothing for society,” Mary tells me. “I prioritise maintaining friendly, safe, and reliable relationships with my customer base.”

Weed dealing is a relational career. In recent years, Wellington has seen a series of tinny houses shut down by police, which were predominantly led by gang members. Nowadays in the city it’s these more independent dealers operating through expanding networks—the tale of ‘my friend knows a guy’.

"Some dealers are students running a side-hustle, some are full-time creatives on-call for deals, and many are very nice people."

Tommy explains how dealers now operate mostly under these connections and exclusive online servers. It looks like reddit, but illegal. He didn’t want me to name the server, but if you know, I’m sure you do. The online servers are established, there’s no doubt about that. These forums have laws of their own too: harm reduction policies, etiquette guides, reviews, and the opportunity to simply blacklist anyone behaving out of line.

“People assume it’s unethical, but we’ve got these set ups for a reason,” like in a recent example the forum was used to provide a heads-up that a dealer “had gang members around.”

In this relational framework, dealers establish good connections with a lot of their customer-base. Tommy explains that check-ins between dealers and customers are normal practice: “If someone’s sussing from you all the time, you’re going to have the chat, like, ‘are you all good? It’s not normal to be sussing that much weed.'”

Eric has also denied sales. Once, for instance, a customer had been consuming “a whole cocktail” of substances, and it didn’t feel ethical. “I met a few kids at a party who definitely looked well under 18, I actually turned them away too.”

Despite this, the unofficially regulated system still isn’t benefiting everyone. As Tommy explains, “the way things are now is bad,” and while weed is tame, “there’s no real way to verify what you’re getting and if it’s good. Despite it being a really transparent system, there’s still so much room to do whatever you want. You can lie a lot, it can get pretty shit.”

It is evident that while many are trying to regulate unregulated systems, there are still going to be setbacks demanding new processes. The proposed bill as it stands aims to cut out these extensive processes, among other things. In a legalised land of the long white cloud, customers would leave the exclusive forums for “consumption premises”, or grow a couple plants at home. Most dealers see the potential of this proposed legislation. They—and often their clients and wider communities—support the referendum and the bill.

However, the nature of the weed industry means that dealers as stakeholders have not been able to be consulted on the bill. Mary explains that she’d fear prosecution by coming forward in discussions. Due to the industry’s underground existence, those who may be most affected by the outcomes of the referendum—with the most vested interest in regulations of the bill—feel they’ve not been able to make their voices heard.

Mary’s concerns are about the environment the bill is being written in. She believes in full decriminalisation first, which would allow dealers to contribute without these fears. She wishes there were protections and support for those currently in the industry wanting to engage. Instead, it feels like those who have “never been interested until now” are getting opportunities first. Mary is also worried about the licensing fees, saying they “might be the thing that keeps me from independently reaching my dreams.”

Within the bill are elements which some of these dealers feel aren’t equitable. It’s clear that licencing requirements will be tight. Applications will be assessed based on a number of background factors and includes police vetting— though previous convictions deemed “less serious” won’t disqualify a person itself. This hasn’t stopped dealers from feeling apprehensive of the barriers this bill might be putting in place for them.

Mary adds however that “everyone in the industry has a different idea” on what their ideal environment looks like.

Tommy is unsettled that bigger corporations will have better opportunity to gain control. The proposed bill provides a cap on production, with no single license holder occupying more than 20% of the market. But despite this, the reality is that those above ground are likely getting a decent head-start. While Tommy has plans to transition to the legal market, potentially through the tourism sector, he’s aware it’s not going to be easy for everyone. Without adequate support channels for those essentially losing their job, he worries some dealers risk going down darker paths. Tommy adds that “we just want normal jobs, a lot of us don’t feel great about being dealers.”

There will “undoubtedly” be dealers voting no, however, as they don’t think the new system will serve them. Tommy explains that some don’t feel they’ll have the same opportunity to establish themselves and a business. But ultimately, a lot of people in the industry want to enjoy their work without fear of prosecution.

Eric likes the proposed bill “quite a lot,” but says the government needs to focus more on supporting those with addictions as well. He thinks the government needs to acknowledge the expertise of growers and dealers, because it will allow them to have a “leg up over these people who just have cash.” While he’s prepared for the halt of sales if legalised, he believes it could lead to a job for him in a dispensary. Eric echoes what Chlöe Swarbrick’s key statement has been: this legislation is about getting money out of the hands of gangs and into the hands of the government.

Most dealers are anticipating a decline in sales if weed is legalised, and will likely either opt out or transition into the legal market. Jane says they’d rather be put out of business and be legal than get more money through the black market. They’ll likely stop selling if the bill passes. Jane however wants to start their own indoor growing facility and to teach people how to make CBD oil. The potential legalisation will remove the barriers for Jane to voice their passion in this industry and remove the embedded stigma. For them, “it’s not about the monetization, it’s about the ability to share passions with people and create a community.”

Ultimately, Tommy, Eric, Mary, and Jane seem optimistic about the conversations the public are being given the time to have. They, and those around them, are excited for the possible new world that this legislation holds potential to bring. However, it’s clear they, and their communities, are feeling the limitations to engage in these conversations and have equity in the potential market.

What is evident from these four separate conversations is that, for the most part, our dealers don’t match the picture painted to us. As Eric explained to me, dealers are as diverse as any community or industry. The assumptions placed on them are limiting their ability to join conversations, such as the legalisation of their industry. As we’ve concluded, our guys are truly the real experts in this field. We already have an established cannabis industry in New Zealand, it’s simply not regulated.

For generations, people have been growing, selling, consuming weed here, and all around the world. Criminalising the plant has not eradicated it anywhere. There are dangerous environments within New Zealand’s drug industry, including those who deal weed. Many dealers agree that the way forwards from this issue is legalising their industry.

And while we are heading in a direction with great potential, we shouldn’t leave our dealers behind. We contribute to this industry too. It seems we as consumers are forgetting the privilege we have to engage in these discussions while our experts are stuck underground.

Going forwards, we owe it to the industry we consume from to ensure they can get a leg up into this potential new market. We ought to look out for our guys like they look out for us.

*names have been changed, obviously