Cannabis, Culture, and Mental Health: Finding a Balanced Conversation

I recently watched a thoughtful and well-researched video by the YouTube channel Dr. Josef, exploring the risks of cannabis use, particularly from a mental health perspective. While the scientific studies are still evolving, the video does a great job presenting emerging evidence around the effects of heavy cannabis use, especially its links to anxiety, depression, and psychosis in some vulnerable individuals.

I appreciate how Dr. Josef Witt-Doerring is able to present these concerns about cannabis in a way that is balanced with reflections from his own history of cannabis usage. It's nice to be at a point in time where authority figures can talk honestly about their substance relationships, rather than the condescending disambiguation of yesteryear.

Dr. Josef's video got me thinking about my own position on cannabis and how we talk about it collectively.

From a drug war to a culture of "why not?"

I've supported cannabis legalisation for as long as I've been politically aware. To me, it's a matter of personal freedom and sound public policy. Decriminalising cannabis means fewer lives ruined by harsh drug laws and more resources focused on real harm reduction rather than an unwinnable "war against drugs." And it's also true that for some people, cannabis use can be part of a healthy, balanced lifestyle.

Over the past few decades, the narrative around cannabis has shifted. We've moved from an era of moral panic to one that recognises personal choice, alternative medicine, and social justice. That course correction was necessary. But we may now be at a point where the pendulum has swung a bit too far in the other direction, particularly with the influence of pro-cannabis corporate interests who have a financial interest in shaping public conversation to better suit their bottom line.

Cannabis isn't inherently bad, but it's not risk-free either. No drug is. And I think we're overdue for a more mature conversation about that.

Smokey times in Aspen

About ten years ago, I was in Colorado on a family holiday. Weed had just been legalised, and at the time, I was delighted to see the kind of societal progress that had seemed unimaginable in my youth.

But I was also surprised (and honestly, a bit disoriented) by how widespread its usage was. I didn't have any issues with people using it, but the constant, visible presence of people heavily intoxicated in public spaces at all times of day challenged my sensibilities.

You've probably had the experience in your life of drinking alcohol with people and getting the sense that they're going a little too hard for their own good. While you can't always judge a book by its cover and you need to be mindful of your own biases, your gut can be a good guide.

In Colorado, my intuition felt at times like something was off. Growing up in Australia during the 1990s, there was no shortage of cannabis. In an environment like that, you learn to see the signs of people who might have difficulty using substances in a responsible way. More than some of the people I saw in Colorado reminded me of people I had seen growing up who were not coping well.

That trip forced me to reflect on my views of cannabis.

Just as I want a reasonable approach to cannabis law, I also want a reasonable approach to cannabis culture. Legalisation, yes, but alongside public health messaging that promotes balance, awareness, and care for the broader impact substance use can have, especially on mental health.

The Mental Health Angle

Heavy cannabis use has been linked to increased risks of anxiety, paranoia, depression, and in some cases, psychosis. This is especially among young people or those with a genetic predisposition to mental illness. Such risks are oft-discussed, but it is important to remember that these effects don't just impact the user. Friends, partners, families and work environments are the first level of bystanders to be affected by someone's overuse of a drug, with the ripple effects spreading further.

It's time for a more holistic conversation. Not a return to stigma, but an honest, nuanced discussion about risks, especially as cannabis becomes more embedded in mainstream life. Just as we accept that cars are dangerous and build systems around making them safer, we can acknowledge the risks of cannabis and respond in thoughtful, evidence-informed ways.

As for how this works on the level of public policy, I'll leave such discussions to the experts. However, as an individual, you can always do reflection to get in touch with your own thoughts on the matter.

Questions for Reflection

If you use cannabis, or if you're close to someone who does, here are some reflective questions that might help guide a more intentional relationship with it:

1. What role does cannabis play in your life right now?
2. How often do you use it, and how does that usage affect your mood, energy, focus, or sleep?
3. Have you noticed any changes in your motivation, relationships, or mental health since using cannabis more frequently?
4. Do you feel in control of when and how you use cannabis?
5. Have you ever used cannabis to avoid dealing with stress, emotions, or difficult experiences?
6. How do you feel about cannabis being part of everyday culture? Does that feel healthy or overwhelming?
7. What would a balanced or mindful approach to cannabis use look like for you?

There's no one-size-fits-all answer. But like with any relationship (whether it's with food, alcohol, screens, or weed) awareness and intention go a long way.

If this topic is something you'd like to explore more deeply in a safe, non-judgemental space, feel free to reach out. I offer a free 20 minute consultation for anyone interested in exploring therapy.