So, although the critique of functionalism is correct to disparage theories of lock-step operative responsiveness between one system (law) and another (economy), it is worth investigating to what extent, just as “medieval law looked, smelled, and acted medieval … capitalist law looks, smells, and acts capitalist.”
— Tomlins Reference Tomlins2016, 65, quoting Calavita Reference Calavita2010, 16, quoting Macaulay, Friedman, and Stookey Reference Macaulay, Friedman and Stookey1995, 7 (emphasis in original)INTRODUCTION
What are the ways in which capitalist law “looks, smells, and acts capitalist” (Tomlins Reference Tomlins2016, 65)? This article addresses this question through a consideration of a contemporary context of significant sociolegal change: the legalization of marijuana.Footnote 1 Marijuana legalization has moved from the margins to the center of mainstream political debate. In the United States, the majority of states have legalized marijuana in some form. As of the fall of 2019, thirty-three states have formal medical marijuana programs. Eleven states and Washington, DC, have legalized recreational marijuana. And all of this has taken place despite the fact that marijuana remains illegal at the federal level.
Marijuana legalization provides a privileged context for inquiry into capitalist law—or, more precisely, the ongoing construction of legality in the context of capitalism.Footnote 2 This is due to the unique approach to legalization that is coming to hold sway in the United States. The hallmark of this approach is the mobilization of the private sector through the creation of commercial markets to implement legalization. Unlike Portugal, which has decriminalized the personal use of all illegal drugs while continuing to prohibit sale and production, Colorado has made production and sale the centerpiece of its legalization policy (Hughes and Stevens Reference Hughes and Stevens2010). And, unlike Uruguay, which has implemented a state monopoly on the legal marijuana market, Colorado has tasked private sector actors with carrying out legalization (Graham Reference Graham2015). And, unlike preexisting approaches in the United States that utilize a co-op model of production and distribution, Colorado has introduced a system of regulated commerce similar to that which is in place for alcohol (Chapkis and Webb Reference Chapkis and Webb2008).
The passage of Amendment 64Footnote 3 was a watershed moment in the development of this market-based approach. This law promoted a “regulate it like alcohol” framework that legalized the sale of marijuana for recreational—not just medical—purposes. As the state legislature worked to implement Amendment 64, some lobbied for a more state-centered model. But this was rejected. As the Task Force Report on the Implementation of Amendment 64 (2013, 19) stated, “Amendment 64 clearly envisions the state as a regulator of private commercial activity in the adult-use marijuana industry, rather than as a market participant itself.” Colorado-style marijuana legalization thus centers on the creation of a legal marijuana market serviced by a regulated, profit-driven industry through which marijuana is produced, distributed, and consumed. Understanding legalization’s capitalist-ness is therefore essential to understanding its significance, not just as an example of capitalist law but also as drug policy.
Marijuana legalization also provides a privileged context for inquiry into how capitalist law “looks, smells, and acts.” Indeed, in the case of marijuana, smell is particularly significant. Under conditions of prohibition, the smell of marijuana, whether burnt or raw, is always evidence of a crime (Mandiberg Reference Mandiberg2012; Kreit Reference Kreit2016). In the context of legalization, the smell of marijuana has taken on broadened legal significance. While it is still used in criminal law enforcement, the smell of marijuana has also become significant to the enforcement of nuisance, zoning, and licensing laws as well as the new practices of consumption taking place in the retail marijuana market. The smell of marijuana is thus a key domain where the sociolegal changes triggered by legalization are most conspicuous and the ongoing construction of legality through the senses in the context of capitalism is most robust.
The rest of the article unfolds over three primary sections. Each section discusses one of the three distinct modes of legality in which the smell of marijuana is in play in the postlegalization environment. The first section on the smell of marijuana as crime highlights the significant role that criminal law has played and continues to play in the governance of marijuana and its users. As criminal law, it showcases how the smell of marijuana enables law to function as a form of social control, even in the postlegalization environment. The second section on the smell of marijuana as nuisance highlights how nuisance law has become a site where conflicts play out over the legal industry’s expansion. Marijuana odors that would previously have triggered criminal complaint are now the purview of a different set of legal authorities. This section demonstrates how the smell of marijuana enables law to function as a form of conflict resolution in the specific context of market creation and expansion. The third section on marijuana legalization as commerce highlights how Colorado’s approach to legalization—the creation of a regulated, commercial market—has enabled the development of new modes of consumption calibrated to the retail environment enabled by the state. Law here provides the basic infrastructure through which the market can operate. This market is designed to both generate revenue and provide regulatory oversight through private commercial activity driven by the profit motive. New modes of consumption represent the actualization of this market and are necessary for it to operate as intended. This section demonstrates how the smell of marijuana enables law to function as a facilitator of economic activity, including trade, exchange, and the production, accumulation, and (re)distribution of wealth (compare Mattei and Nader Reference Mattei and Nader2008; Malloy Reference Malloy2016; Pistor Reference Pistor2019).
In this way, this article shows how capitalist law “looks, smells, and acts capitalist” by demonstrating how the smell of marijuana has taken on expanded legal significance in the wake of legalization. The market-based approach pioneered by Colorado creates a common point of orientation even as it enables law to perform different essential socio-legal functions across a range of legal domains. As this article illustrates, capitalism does not determine how law functions in a capitalist society, but it is vital to its flourishing (Calavita Reference Calavita2010, 16–20). It provides an essential point of orientation, much as the sun coaxes the flower to turn its way.
LEGALIZATION, COLORADO STYLE
Marijuana legalization in Colorado has unfolded in fits and starts over several decades. A state medical marijuana program has been in place since 2000 following the passage of Amendment XX.Footnote 4 In 2012, Colorado voters approved Amendment 64Footnote 5 , which legalized marijuana for recreational purposes and directed the state to create a commercial marijuana market modeled on that which was in place for alcohol. In 2014, the first legal sales of recreational marijuana took place. Since then, my research teamFootnote 6 and I have been researching the impact of Amendment 64, with a particular focus on how the market-based approach has shaped legalization’s implementation. To date, we have conducted ethnographic research at thirty-three dispensaries and fifty-two semi-structured interviews with legalization stakeholders. These have ranged from industry participants (such as budtenders), to elected officials (such as state representatives), to those impacted indirectly by legalization (such as social workers and educators). We have also participated in industry events and trainings, systematically read industry trade publications, and stayed up to date on legal developments. Finally, we have engaged in what Joseph Dumit (Reference Dumit2012, 20) refers to as “constant ethnographic engagement,” such as following dispensaries on social media, reading the memoires and how-to manuals of marijuana industry participants, and tracking mainstream news coverage of legalization.
The economic emphasis of the Colorado model reflects the politics of the legalization era. Not only do market-based ideologies remain politically ascendant, but the most significant gains in legalization have also come in the decade following the Great Recession of 2007–8. Among other things, the Great Recession took a toll on revenue streams, putting a strain on state budgets. Drug and crime policy had already receded from national political debate as concerns shifted toward terrorism following 9/11. The Great Recession pushed economic issues even further to the fore. In this climate, elected officials were more concerned with the economy than appearing “tough on crime.” This left criminal justice expenditures vulnerable to cuts and criminal justice reform open to discussion. Indeed, criminal justice reform became one of the few areas of bipartisan conversation (Aviram Reference Aviram2015).
In 2017, I interviewed a key figure in the Amendment 64 campaign. A lawyer by training, he had worked for several years on reforming Colorado’s marijuana laws. He noted that medical marijuana was crucial to the success of Amendment 64:
You know, for the last 100 years our government has told us that marijuana is a Schedule I controlled substance, it’s just as harmful as LSD and heroin and, you know, this is your brain on drugs, if you use marijuana you’re gonna fry your brain like an egg. I mean, things that just really were not scientifically accurate, but I think conjured up a lot of fear. And if you’re told that marijuana’s the worst thing in the world, but then if your cousin who has cancer is using it and it’s helping him, and you begin to see stores that are helping other people, you begin to question your assumptions that you’ve been taught about marijuana as a substance. (Compare Kilmer and MacCoun Reference Kilmer and MacCoun2017; Felson, Adamczyk, and Thomas Reference Felson, Adamczyk and Thomas2019).
But he and others knew that it would take more to convince people to support the legalization of recreational marijuana. They would need the support of those who had no personal interest in marijuana or who might even be opposed to it. Their first move was thus to avoid the term “legalization” altogether:
You know, previously if you talked about something like “legalization,” it just sounds amorphous. You know, “Does that mean the kids can have it?” “Is it grown on street corners?” Like, “What is legalization”? And we actually, really, for 18 months, did not use the word “legalization,” we talked about “regulation.” And, “regulating like alcohol.”
“Regulate it like alcohol,” rather than “legalize marijuana,” became the motto of the Amendment 64 campaign. Polling revealed that voters, particularly white voters whose primary language was English, responded well to economic framings of the issue. This led them to develop a three-pronged message:
You know, one, we wanted to tax and regulate marijuana to produce revenue for the State. … So that was the first piece. The second piece was just a better use of criminal justice resources. … And the third piece, which was controversial, was just talking about marijuana being a safer substance than alcohol.
But there were consequences to this pragmatic approach:
Interviewer: Were there, when you were crafting the language, were there points of messaging that you thought were going to resonate that just didn’t, or things that you really wanted to just get out there because you believe them, but just found that they weren’t convincing voters the way you needed to?
Interviewee: Yeah, there were. The social justice arguments, marijuana laws being applied in a racist fashion and having disproportionate effect to people of color and poor people, and youth. That doesn’t really reach people the way that we thought it would. And that was very compelling for me and a lot of my colleagues, but it just didn’t seem to move the needle.
The economic focus enabled passage of Amendment 64. It has also come to define the project of marijuana legalization itself. As a result, the emphasis has been on creating the regulations necessary to enable a profitable marketplace rather than directly reforming the use of marijuana in criminal law enforcement to address long-standing inequities. Indeed, an often-overlooked aspect of most legalization schemes is that marijuana remains illegal and criminalized in most contexts. Maintaining these prohibitions is no oversight but, in fact, key to the legal market’s success. Such laws make the regulated marketplace the primary mechanism through which marijuana may legally circulate.
OF LAW, SENSE, AND SCENTS
The smell of marijuana is a privileged site from which to view legalization as it unfolds. Senses such as smell are vital to the ongoing construction of legality (Howes Reference Howes2019). This point is made clear by “sensorilegal studies,” which understands law, first and foremost, as sense-making activity (Hamilton et al. Reference Hamilton, Majury, Moore, Sargent and Wilke2017b; Howes Reference Howes2017, Reference Howes2019). Early work on law and the senses focused on the way Western legal systems value certain senses over others (Bently and Flynn Reference Bently and Flynn1996). Particular attention has been paid to Western law’s emphasis on sight—its “occulocentrism” (Hamilton et al. Reference Hamilton, Majury, Moore and Sargent2017a). Such observations remain an important source of critique of the ways legitimate legal knowledge is produced. They also show the embeddedness of legal systems within particular sensoriums, which are themselves implicated in further-reaching processes of political-economic and sociocultural contextualization (Howes Reference Howes2017).
More recent work has sought to move beyond the “law and the senses” paradigm, which creates a false dichotomy between “law,” on the one hand, and, “the senses,” on the other (Howes Reference Howes2017; compare Fisk and Gordon Reference Fisk and Gordon2011). Such dichotomous framings obscure the interdependence of the two categories. Moreover, it replicates legal ideologies that seek to keep the senses at bay and reproduce law as rational, objective, and asensual (compare Ewick and Silbey Reference Ewick and Silbey1998). This work has also shown that it is not just the culturally mediated sensorium that dictates the differential valuation of the senses in legal contexts. Developments in industry, techno-science, hygienic practices, and commercial markets can just as easily have an influence (Corbin Reference Corbin1986; Howes Reference Howes and Howes2005; Garriott Reference Garriott2010; Jackson Reference Jackson2011; Hamilton et al. Reference Hamilton, Majury, Moore, Sargent and Wilke2017b).
The senses are particularly important to the ongoing construction of legality in the context of capitalism. The shift from industrial to consumer capitalism, for instance, has put increased emphasis on the senses. Making objects of consumption desirable to consumers, largely through an appeal to the senses, is central to how consumer capitalism works (Howes Reference Howes and Howes2005). Efforts are likewise underway to patent certain sensory properties, such as the smell of the modeling clay, Play-Doh. Law here creates the opportunity monetize what was previously an incidental feature of the production process. These developments exemplify what has been referred to as “sensory capitalism” (Elliott Reference Elliott2019). Paralleling these developments, there is a well-established practice of using zoning and other legal tools to protect economically productive activities that offend the senses. Unpleasant odors are a particularly prominent feature of this type of legal activity (Jackson Reference Jackson2011; Valverde Reference Valverde2019). Such protections form another important strain of sensory capitalism that continue to be essential even in the context of deindustrialization and the hyper-consumerist turn.
Smell occupies a complicated position in the Western sensorium. On the one hand, smells are understood to have a direct, material connection to their source. Just think, for instance, of the connection between the smell of smoke and fire (Jackson Reference Jackson2011). On the other hand, smells are ephemeral. They are invisible, travel by air, and are prone to transgress borders of all kinds, both physical and symbolic. This is what makes unpleasant odors such a common feature in nuisance law. They are unpleasant precisely because they transgress these boundaries and the cultural-legal norms they embody, such as the rights to privacy and private property (Mandic et al. Reference Mandic, Nirta, Pavoni and Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos2015; Drobnick Reference Drobnick2006). This is also what makes odors an effective tool of criminal law enforcement. Objects hidden from view, and, thus, legally protected, can be detected by their odors, justifying searches and other forms of state intervention that would otherwise be impossible.
The sense of smell is equally complex. It is understood to be at once the most primal and least reliable of the senses. Police officers, for instance, are empowered to rely on their sense of smell when searching for signs of law breaking (such as the possession of drugs). At the same time, the use of dogs in drug investigations is justified by the idea that the human sense of smell is inherently weak and unreliable (Braverman Reference Braverman2013). Because it is considered a more “primal” sense, animals are assumed to have superior powers of olfactory perception, though this idea remains contested (Mandic et al. Reference Mandic, Nirta, Pavoni and Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos2015). Thus who is authorized to use their sense of smell and to what ends is always in question. As will be discussed below, a smell’s significance is sometimes treated as self-evident to anyone with a nose, whereas, at other times, it is only someone with the proper training, technology, or expertise that is authorized to make a proper assessment. This has profound consequences, particularly given that an odor’s offensiveness is often assumed to be subjective and, thus, contestable by competing claims (such as economic concerns).
Why is smell significant for understanding marijuana legalization? At the most basic level, it is because marijuana is an odorous substance. The presence of aromatic compounds called terpenes gives the cannabis plant (from which marijuana is derived) its unique, and uniquely pungent, aromas. But the plant itself is only part of the story. The plant’s smell would not be so significant apart from its relationship with the law. Under conditions of prohibition, the smell of marijuana—whether raw or burnt—had one legal meaning. It was indicative of crime. Legalization has expanded its significance into new legal domains. This has introduced greater complexity at the level of everyday life by changing what we might think of as the marijuana smellscape (Porteous Reference Porteous and Drobnick2006; Rindisbacher Reference Rindisbacher2015). New features, such as the marijuana consumer breathing deeply into a glass jar of marijuana flower at a legal dispensary, coexist with older ones, such as the drug dog alerting a police officer to the presence of marijuana at a traffic stop. There are also the angry neighbors overwhelmed by the pungent aromas emanating from the cannabis cultivation facilities that have sprung up in their neighborhood; the cultivation facility manager attempting to comply with the city’s new odor ordinance; the cannabis consumer trying to smoke in the public park as discretely as possible (because even though the bud she purchased is legal, smoking it in public is not); the irritated mother who, with a sigh, walks with her child to another part of the park because, despite our smoker’s efforts at discretion, the odor of burnt marijuana is wafting, unpleasantly, in her direction; and the anxious tourist reaching out online to ask, in preparation for her visit, “does all of Denver smell like marijuana?!?”
The next three sections show how the smell of marijuana is central to legalization. The first section focuses on criminal law and examines how courts have addressed the question of when police may use the smell of marijuana to engage in practices of stop, search, seizure, and arrest. The second section focuses on nuisance laws and examines how these have provided avenues for those negatively affected by legalization to voice their concerns and challenge the industry’s presence. The third section examines how marijuana’s smell is being used in the retail context to bring into being the legal market in marijuana envisioned by Amendment 64. Across these three domains, it is the market orientation of legalization in Colorado that provides a common point of reference. This shapes the ongoing construction of legality through the smell of marijuana as well as the way law is called upon to perform its most fundamental functions as a means of social control, conflict resolution, and facilitator of economic exchange.
The Smell of Marijuana As Crime
In the summer of 2017, I interviewed Keith.Footnote 7 Keith worked at the local office of a national drug policy nonprofit in Denver. The organization supports a sharp deescalation of the war on drugs. Keith played a key role in the organization’s support of legalization efforts. Keith’s support for marijuana legalization was “narrowly focused on how legalization would change the criminal justice and drug policy landscape from a law enforcement perspective and how marijuana would no longer be the gateway into the criminal justice system that it has been for decades for primarily young, poor black and brown men in this country.” Keith, a lawyer by training, entered the drug policy world through what he affectionately called “the nonprofit industrial complex.” He worked as head of the Colorado Social Justice Action Network’s (CSJAN) Committee on Racial Justice and its Racial Profiling and Police Accountability Project. As a black man from the historically black Denver neighborhood of Five Points, Keith was no stranger to tensions between police and communities of color, but his work at CSJAN reinforced his sense of the problem’s urgency:
My previous job had shown me that the relationship with law enforcement and the community was so bad because, you know, people were tired of being searched. And tired of being stopped. And tired of being pulled over pretextually in order for that stop and search to take place. And so I was really trying to change the game.
The smell of marijuana played a unique role enabling this dynamic:
You know, marijuana, the smell of marijuana, has always been the key for law enforcement to put their hands on people, to search their person, to search their, you know, belongings, to search their car, and I was looking forward to changing that dynamic.Footnote 8
There is no doubt that marijuana has played an outsized role in US police practice (Geller and Fagan Reference Geller and Fagan2010; Provine Reference Provine2011; Meares Reference Meares2014). This goes back decades, but it gained steam in the last third of the twentieth century. By 1982 arrests for marijuana accounted for 72 percent of all drug arrests nationally. Marijuana arrests declined through the 1980s as enforcement priorities shifted. The 1990s, however, saw a resurgence. Between 1990 and 2002, marijuana arrests increased by 113 percent, even as overall arrests declined by 3 percent. And the vast majority of these arrests—78.7 percent—were for possession alone (King and Mauer Reference King and Mauer2006).
In US criminal law, a marijuana arrest, like any drug arrest, can be triggered in several ways. Visual observation is the most explicit and the one most clearly defined by law. The “plain view doctrine,” established in 1971, removes the warrant requirement for objects in plain view of police. Just how far the plain view doctrine can be extended to other senses, however, remains unsettled. Smell has proven particularly difficult. With the escalation of marijuana enforcement beginning in the late 1960s, courts were increasingly called upon to rule on odor’s ability to serve as probable cause and provide a warrant exception. The so-called “plain smell doctrine” developed rapidly, but unevenly, over this time. Marijuana was the overwhelming focus in these cases—so much so that, had it not been for the prioritization of marijuana enforcement, this strain of Fourth Amendment thinking would never have developed (Sprow Reference Sprow2000).
The US Supreme Court has resisted establishing that smell alone provides probable cause for a warrantless search. However, the lower federal courts have not been so reticent. In 1972, the Ninth Circuit in United States v Leazer (1972) held that the detection of marijuana odor in a car by a law enforcement officer provided probable cause for arrest. In 1973, the Third Circuit in United States v Valen (1973) validated the search of a suitcase based only on the smell of marijuana as detected by a law enforcement officer. In 1974, the Ninth Circuit in United States v Johnston (1974) held that probable cause could be based on odor alone. Also in 1974, the Fourth Circuit in United States v Sifuentes (1974) suggested that once the odor of marijuana has been detected, it falls under plain view and thus provides for a warrantless search. In 1975, the Second Circuit in United States v Pond (1975) held that the odor of marijuana was sufficient to establish probable cause.
This trend continued through the early 1980s. The DC Circuit in United States v Russell (1982) postulated that “plain touch” and “plain smell” were already encompassed by the “plain view” doctrine. In 1983, the Fourth Circuit in United States v Norman (1983) made a similar argument, stating that for something to fall under the “plain view doctrine” it need only be “obvious to the senses” and, to this end, “need only reveal itself in a characteristic way to one of the senses” (quoted in Sprow Reference Sprow2000, 296n42). This case upheld the use of marijuana odor to conduct a warrantless search of garbage bags.
The 1990s saw further affirmation of the plain smell doctrine in the lower federal courts. In 1991, the Tenth Circuit in United States v Morin (1991) stated plainly that the “odor of marijuana alone can satisfy the probable cause requirement to search a vehicle or baggage.” In 1992, the Fifth Circuit in United States v Pierre (1992) upheld the warrantless search of a vehicle by border agents who had stopped it for routine questioning and claimed to smell freshly burned marijuana. In 1993, the Sixth Circuit in United States v Garza (1993) held that a law enforcement officer established probable cause to search a truck when he claimed to smell marijuana emanating from the back of the cab. In 1998, the Tenth Circuit in United States v Downs (1998) held that the odor of raw marijuana emanating from a vehicle gave officers probable cause to search the trunk. That same year, the First Circuit in United States v Taylor (1998) found that detection of the odor of marijuana gave an officer probable cause to search the whole vehicle. And, in 1999, the Eighth Circuit came to the same conclusion in United States v Neumann (1999). Thus, by the end of the 1990s, all but the Seventh and Eleventh Circuit courts had ruled directly on plain smell, and the majority of circuit courts had affirmed that smell, and smell alone, could provide probable cause sufficient to conduct a warrantless search (Sprow Reference Sprow2000).
It is no coincidence that the majority of these cases involved vehicles. The 1990s, in particular, saw the investigatory traffic stop become a key focus of law enforcement nationally. This was part and parcel of the continued escalation of the war on drugs, in which frontline law enforcement officers at the state and local level were recruited into the work of drug enforcement (Epp, Maynard-Moody, and Haider-Markel Reference Epp, Maynard-Moody and Haider-Markel2014). The Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), for instance, had trained over twenty-seven thousand state and local officers in investigatory stops by the late 1990s. Many of these officers, in turn, went on to train others. Police were trained to see traffic stops as a possible opening into a broader criminal investigation. Making appropriate use of the senses during roadside encounters was key to making this practice work. One widely read training manual encouraged officers to conduct a “sensory pat down” of the vehicle and driver once they had been stopped. It stated: “This is the pivotal period when you must quickly decide whether the subject you’ve just stopped is ‘just’ a traffic violator who should be warned or ticketed and sent on his way—or a felony suspect who warrants the full Criminal Patrol treatment” (quoted in Epp, Maynard-Moody, and Haider-Markel Reference Epp, Maynard-Moody and Haider-Markel2014, 37).
Odors are a key component of this “sensory pat down.” While the Supreme Court of the United States has not endorsed the plain smell doctrine, it has affirmed that odor may be used as one piece of evidence under a “totality of the circumstances” approach. That is, while odor alone might not provide sufficient evidence to conduct a warrantless search, odor combined with other sources of evidence largely does. The US Supreme Court affirmed this approach most recently in the 2013 case of Florida v Harris (2013), which called into question the use of a drug-sniffing dog’s sniff to establish probable cause. In a unanimous opinion, Justice Elena Kagan noted: “The question—similar to every inquiry into probable cause—is whether all the facts surrounding a dog’s alert, viewed through the lens of common sense, would make a reasonably prudent person think that a search would reveal contraband or evidence of a crime. A sniff is up to snuff when it meets that test” (Florida v Harris 2013, 1058).
Odor is thus a powerful enforcement tool. This is particularly so given that the standard for making such a judgment is the “common sense” of a “reasonably prudent person.” Such “common sense” has been shaped by marijuana’s criminalization over the past eighty years. This leads to the easy, even intuitive association between the odor of marijuana and illegality. As Colorado Supreme Court Justice Nancy Rice put it, “common sense dictates that the smell of burning marijuana gives rise to a very high probability that the search of a particular place will reveal contraband or evidence of a crime” (Mendez v People 1999, 281). This led another Colorado judge to worry that there is thus “a tendency to let this aroma keep tipping the balance in favor of searches, stops, and arrests,” even, as we will see, in instances where marijuana has undergone some degree of legalization (People v Zuniga 2016, 1063).
Before Legalization: Mendez v People (1999)
The key case in Colorado dictating how marijuana odors can be used by police is that of Mendez v People (1999). In the spring of 1995, Edgar Mendez was in his room at a Denver motel when a police officer suddenly entered. The officer, Edwin Morales, had been let in by the motel manager. It was after midnight. Officer Morales and his partner had come to the motel in response to a trespassing concern. When they arrived, two other officers were already responding to the case. They were missing a form, however, and Officer Morales offered to retrieve a copy from his vehicle. While waiting for the elevator, he noticed the “strong odor of burning marijuana” coming from Edgar Mendez’s room. Officer Morales called his partner over. He also smelled marijuana. The two officers decided to take action. They had the motel manager let them in, rather than knocking, because they were worried that, if they made their presence known, the person in the room would start destroying evidence. As soon as they entered, Officer Morales saw Mendez running to the bathroom. The officer then heard the toilet flushing. On the dresser he saw a baggie of what appeared to be marijuana and several syringes. Based on this evidence, the officers arrested Mendez and took him to a Denver police station. There, they carried out an additional search and found a bag of cocaine. Mendez was charged with possession of marijuana and cocaine.
Before his trial, Mendez argued that the warrantless search of his room violated his constitutional rights. The trial court disagreed and upheld the lawfulness of the search. They believed Officer Morales’s claim to have smelled the odor of burning marijuana coming from Mendez’s room. They also found Officer Morales was qualified to identify such an odor based on his fourteen years of experience as a police officer. Furthermore, they found that the officers were justified in entering the room without a warrant (and without announcing their presence) because their fears that the evidence would be consumed or destroyed was legitimate. Moreover, because the motel was a “transient apartment living space,” Mendez could have checked himself out before the officers were able to secure a warrant. Finally, the court agreed with the officers that Mendez might have already been aware that police were present, given that there were four officers responding to a trespass complaint right down the hall and that this concern further justified the warrantless entry and search.
Edgar Mendez was convicted. He appealed his conviction all the way to the Colorado Supreme Court, which upheld it. In so doing, they clarified when the smell of marijuana could be used to conduct a warrantless search under the “exigent circumstances” exception. Writing for the majority, Justice Nancy Rice explained that probable cause “requires police to establish that reasonable grounds existed to believe that contraband or evidence of criminal activity is located in the area to be searched.” She went on to state that this standard requires judges to look at “the totality of the circumstances” from a “practical, common sense” point of view. The nontechnical aspect of the determination was particularly important: “[T]he information necessary to support a finding of probable cause need not rise to the level of certainty. … Instead, a finding of probable cause is based on factual and practical considerations of everyday life on which reasonable and prudent people, not legal technicians, act” (Mendez v People 1999, 280).
Justice Rice noted that the smell of burning marijuana had twice before been upheld as providing probable cause to conduct a warrantless search by the Colorado Supreme Court. In 1975, it was the smell of burning marijuana emanating from an individual’s hand-rolled cigarette (People v Stephenson 1975). In 1991, it was the smell of burning marijuana emanating from inside a home where officers were investigating an outstanding search warrant (People v Baker 1991). The Baker decision stated unequivocally that “the officers had probable cause to believe a crime was being committed when they smelled burned marijuana” (Quoted in Mendez v People 1999, 280-81).
But Justice Rice was careful to couch this determination within a broader stream of judicial thought regarding smell. She traced the use of smell as probable cause to the 1948 US Supreme Court case, Johnson v United States (1948). This case, too, involved drugs in a hotel room, though it was opium, not marijuana. Notably, the court overturned Johnson’s conviction on the grounds that exigent circumstances did not exist. Nevertheless, the court went out of its way to clarify that its ruling in no way excluded odor-based evidence from providing probable cause. Justice Rice quoted from this decision:
If the presence of odors is testified to before a magistrate and he finds the affiant qualified to know the odor, and it is one sufficiently distinctive to identify a forbidden substance, this Court has never held such a basis insufficient to justify issuance of a search warrant. Indeed it might very well be found to be evidence of most persuasive character. (Quoted in Mendez v People 1999, 281; emphasis in original).
The court’s ruling provided a sweeping endorsement of the idea that the smell of burning marijuana always triggers the exigent circumstance exception: “This odor indicated that evidence of a crime, that is, possession of marijuana, was in the process of being burned and thereby destroyed. As such, we conclude that there was a very real and substantial likelihood that contraband would continue to be destroyed before a warrant could be obtained to search the motel room” (Mendez v People 1999, 282). The burning is essential here. The judge noted that the simple risk of removal or destruction, even of “narcotics,” is, on its own, insufficient to justify the exigent circumstance exception so long as the space can be secured while a warrant is obtained. Under these conditions, the odor of burning marijuana provides a particularly useful tool for state agents to conduct warrantless searches.
After Legalization: People v Zuniga (2016)
The Mendez case provided essential guidance on how marijuana odor could be used in police work. But legalization raised the question: Could the smell of marijuana still justify a warrantless search? This question was put to the test in People v Zuniga (2016).Footnote 9 In 2015, Victor Zuniga was on Interstate 76 in Weld County, Colorado, when a state trooper pulled him over. Approaching the car, the officer smelled the “heavy odor” of “raw” marijuana. He also noticed that the occupants were extremely nervous, “to an extreme that [] wasn’t normal” (People v Zuniga 2016, 1054; brackets in original). The driver had shaky hands, beads of sweat on his face, and stuttered in response to requests. The passenger, Victor Zuniga, was “overly nice” in complying with requests, such as providing documents from the glove box. The two men also gave different stories to explain why they were in Colorado, and the car was not registered to the driver. Based on these suspicions, the state trooper had his dog, Lobo, do a “free air sniff” of the area around the vehicle. The dog alerted to the trunk. In it, the officer found a duffle bag containing a one-pound brick of marijuana and a cooler with 12.6 ounces of marijuana concentrate. Zuniga said that the items were his. He was arrested and, based on the amount of marijuana in the vehicle, charged with two felony counts of possession with intent to manufacture or distribute marijuana or marijuana concentrate.
At trial, Zuniga argued that the search was unlawful. This was for several reasons but particularly because marijuana was now legal for adults twenty-one years old and over. The trial court agreed and granted his request to suppress the evidence gained through the search. The court reasoned that, since the possession of certain amounts of marijuana was legal in the state, the smell on its own was not always indicative of criminal activity. Neither the state trooper nor his dog Lobo were capable of identifying whether the amount of marijuana in the vehicle exceeded what is permitted by law based on the odor alone. Moreover, Lobo was trained to identify four different types of illegal substances, and his alerts did not differentiate between the four. This created further ambiguity and undermined the trooper’s claim to have established probable cause.
But the trial court’s decision was reversed on appeal. This was for several reasons, but the crucial factor was a different interpretation of how odor contributes to a probable cause determination after legalization. The court emphasized that probable cause has never required police to be certain that criminal activity is taking place. Moreover, it emphasized that, even after legalization, “a substantial number of other marijuana-related activities remain unlawful under Colorado law. Given that state of affairs, the odor of marijuana is still suggestive of criminal activity” (People v Zuniga 2016, 1059; emphasis added). Thus, the court minimized the significance of legalization for the use of marijuana’s smell in criminal law enforcement.
What goes unremarked in this decision is that the police, in fact, are playing a new role when they enforce criminal laws in the postlegalization environment. They are not just maintaining the vestiges of prohibition but are also protecting the authorized marijuana industry at the center of legalization. After all, Victor Zuniga and his companion were presumed to be intending to distribute what they had outside the legal market. By disrupting these plans, the state trooper was not just upholding criminal laws but also enforcing restrictions that limit legal marijuana distribution to state licensees. This, in turn, keeps the legal industry competitive with the unauthorized market (both for customers and workers) and maintains the value of the products being sold. And the officer served this role using a long-standing tool of drug enforcement: smell. Thus, by maintaining that “the odor of marijuana … can support an inference that a crime is ongoing even though possession of one ounce or less of marijuana is allowed under Colorado law,” the court affirmed the “common sense” association between the smell of marijuana and crime while also enabling the evolution of Colorado criminal law’s social control function under the revised capitalist conditions initiated by marijuana legalization (People v Zuniga 2016,1060).
The Smell of Marijuana As Nuisance
But there are limits to the court’s notion that “the odor of marijuana is still suggestive of criminal activity.” Just ask the Reillys. Michael and Phillis Reilly own an expanse of land in Pueblo County, Colorado. They often visit to hike, ride horses, and see friends. They describe it as a “beautiful rolling pasture with sweeping mountain vistas that include views of Pike’s Peak” (Safe Streets Alliance v Hickenlooper 2017, 879). In 2015, they learned that a marijuana-growing operation was being built on neighboring property. It would supply Alternative Holistic Healing, a medical and recreational dispensary in Black Hawk, as well as other locations. The Reillys were not pleased. They worried that the grow operation would interfere with their ability to continue using their property as they were accustomed and diminish its value. So they sued. The federal district court that heard their case initially dismissed it. But the appeals court was more open to the idea that the “noxious odors” being emitted by the marijuana growing operation were causing the Reillys harm (Safe Streets Alliance v Hickenlooper 2017, 279-80)
Since the cultivation facility was legal and licensed by the state, the Reillys had no immediate recourse under criminal law. Instead, they sought civil remedy using nuisance laws. “Nuisance” is a broad category that can encompass virtually any activity deemed objectionable, and there is a long history of odors being treated as nuisances. In the United States, states have broad authority to regulate nuisances using the police power. Colorado is no exception (Morgan et al. Reference Morgan, Hansgen, Hawthorne and Miller2015, 1128). As the court noted, “Colorado … has long recognized that invasion of one’s property by noxious odors itself gives rise to a nuisance claim and is a direct injury to property” (Safe Streets Alliance v Hickenlooper 2017, 886). The court affirmed the Reillys’ assertion that the marijuana odors were both interfering with their enjoyment of the property and reducing its value. “It is reasonable to think,” the court stated, “that a potential buyer would be less inclined to purchase land that is burdened by a nuisance—such as recurrent foul odors—than she would be to purchase the identical property if it were unencumbered” (Safe Streets Alliance v Hickenlooper 2017, 887)
The Reillys were not alone in their agitation over marijuana odors produced by cultivation facilities. “Six months ago our neighborhood smelled like a neighborhood, and now it smells like someone is holding up a package of marijuana to your face,” said Bart Axelman, complaining about odors emanating from a cultivation facility near his home in Pitkin County. One of his neighbors described the smell as “disgusting and nauseating,” adding: “I thought there was something wrong with our septic tank. Something needs to be done to eliminate the nauseating odor now” (Carroll Reference Carroll2015). Marijuana odor complaints increased following the passage of Amendment 64 as production expanded for the recreational market. Some complainants were not even aware that the odor was marijuana. “I had an old guy call, complaining about this unusual odor whenever he drove past Mississippi and Santa Fe,” Denver Department of Environmental Health investigator Ben Siller relayed to a Denver Post reporter in 2013: “I knew right away what it was, and told him that it was marijuana. His reaction was, ‘What?’” (Meyer Reference Meyer2013). By August 2014, less than a year after sales of recreational marijuana began, marijuana odor complaints comprised approximately 30 percent of all odor complaints in Denver (Hughes Reference Hughes2014).
Denver code follows state laws mandating that odors cannot exceed a threshold of one part odor to seven parts filtered air (Morgan et al. Reference Morgan, Hansgen, Hawthorne and Miller2015, 1128). A device called a field olfactometer is used to determine if an odor violates this standard. The device, with the brand name “Nasal Ranger,” looks something like a telescope for the nose. If the odor in question does not exceed the one-to-seven threshold, the emitter can still be cited if five complaints are received within a twelve-hour period (Hughes Reference Hughes2014; Guide to DEH’s Odor Regulations 2015). None of the marijuana odor complaints received in 2014 surpassed the one-to-seven ratio (Hughes Reference Hughes2014). Siller wagered that complaints would taper off over time: “[The smell] is discernible. It’s there but you get used to it, just like any odor” (Meyer Reference Meyer2013). Denver City Council President Mary Beth Susman was less certain, locating the challenge in the specific qualities of odor itself: “Odor can be subjective. It’s hard to legislate odor. The strength that is required to register on the Nasal Ranger is something we need to look at. I also wonder if people will get used to the smell and the dislike of it now may change over time” (Meyer Reference Meyer2013).
Despite the difficulties of “legislating odor,” cities and counties continued to expand rules and regulations targeting odor following legalization. Amendment 64 gave local jurisdictions the power to decide whether or not to allow production and sale of marijuana. The majority chose not to allow it, leading to a concentration of cultivation and retail facilities in specific parts of the state. Within those jurisdictions, most sought to address marijuana odors through municipal code. In 2015, for instance, the city of Breckenridge passed an ordinance requiring cultivation facilities to prevent marijuana odors from being “detected by a person with a normal sense of smell from any adjoining lot, parcel, or tract of land not owned by the owner of the regulated structure, or from any adjoining public right of way” (Breckenridge, Colo., 2015). The city of Fort Collins passed a similar ordinance, stipulating that marijuana odors should not be “noticeable” beyond the property line on which cultivation is taking place, and that owners would be held liable if such odors were detected (Fort Collins, Colo., 2014).
The cities of Pueblo, Breckenridge, and Boulder required marijuana growers to have ventilation systems in place to prevent odors from being detectable from the outside of the business or on any adjacent property by, in the words of the Boulder municipal code, “a person with a normal sense of smell” (Boulder, Colo., 2020). Pueblo extended this requirement to home cultivation, requiring cultivators to install air filtration systems that would prevent any person “with a normal sense of smell” from detecting the odor outside the building (Pueblo, Colo., 2015).
Cumulatively, such ordinances established three principle commitments in the municipal regulation of marijuana odors. First, that the constant odor of marijuana was not going to be accepted as the “new normal” following legalization. Second, that marijuana growers were responsible for containing the odors emitted by their operations and would be penalized if they failed. And, third, that the mechanism for determining when an odor became a problem was the “normal sense of smell” rather than formal thresholds measured by devices such as the Nasal Ranger. This reinforced the idea that the complete absence of marijuana odor would remain normative and that any disruption of the olfactory enjoyment of a given space could constitute cause for reprimanding a marijuana business.
Marijuana is inherently pungent so smell has long been an issue for growers. But this fact alone does not account for why odors have been such a flashpoint following legalization. Of greater significance are the conditions under which marijuana is being grown. The overwhelming majority of marijuana in Colorado is grown in indoor facilities (warehouses and special rooms at retail locations) in close proximity to population centers. This is due to several factors. First, municipalities often require marijuana to be grown indoors. Zoning and security requirements also make indoor growing the easiest (and often only) option from a compliance perspective, as producers have very specific obligations to track, store, and transport product in all stages of growth. Second, the legacy of prohibition means that many experienced growers, who learned their craft in the unauthorized market, are accustomed to growing indoors. Third, indoor facilities allow growers to control the many variables that impact production, such as light, nutrients, and water. This allows businesses to maximize output and create a more consistent product. Fourth and finally, indoor growing allows cultivation facilities to be conveniently located close to, and often times within, the dispensaries where the product is sold.
Though this makes sense from a regulatory and business standpoint, it makes odor a challenge, particularly where cultivation operations neighbor residential areas or other businesses. Denver-based LoDo Wellness Center experienced this firsthand. In 2013, it had its application to convert from a medical to a recreational dispensary challenged based on smell complaints. LoDo Wellness is named after its location in “Lower Downtown,” an area strategically redeveloped as a commercial destination. One complainant described the smell from LoDo Wellness as “severe and intolerable.” Another described it as “overwhelming.” Neighboring businesses also complained. An owner of a clothing store accused LoDo Wellness of creating “a stench in the neighborhood” and “a blight in our midst which is bad for business and our quality of life.” Owners of a hotel told the city that “some hotel guests have complained of [marijuana] odor.” In a letter opposing the dispensary’s license, the president and chief executive officer of the hotel referred to “pollution being emanated from the business” and “the environmental hazard and nuisance caused by this business” (Huspeni Reference Huspeni2013).
Despite these complaints, LoDo Wellness was able to obtain its license and continues to operate today. A dispensary named Starbuds, however, was not so lucky. In 2016, it was the first cultivation facility in Denver to have its license revoked. This revocation rested overwhelmingly on odor complaints. Its location on Brighton Boulevard in the Elyria-Swansea neighborhood on Denver’s north side put it in a unique position. Like other north side neighborhoods, Elyria-Swansea has a mix of residential and commercial buildings. It has traditionally been a hub of industrial manufacturing in the city. One neighborhood, Globeville, got its name from the Asarco Globe Plant that once operated in the area (it is now a Superfund site after it was found to be contaminating groundwater and soil with metal). North Denver is still home to a variety of odor-emitting industries, including asphalt manufactures, a wood treatment facility, a pet food manufacturer, animal-rendering facilities, a wastewater treatment facility, a coal-fired power plant, and two smelters (Morgan et al. Reference Morgan, Hansgen, Hawthorne and Miller2015, 1127). Odors are thus a long-standing concern in North Denver (Morgan et al. Reference Morgan, Hansgen, Hawthorne and Miller2015; Eltarkawe and Miller Reference Eltarkawe and Miller2018).
But this concentration of industry and, more importantly, industrially zoned real estate, has made North Denver the epicenter of marijuana cultivation in the city. Just three of the city’s eleven council districts (two of which are in North Denver) are home to almost five hundred licensed cultivators, while five districts lack even a single marijuana growing facility (Gelardi Reference Gelardi2016). This uneven distribution is due, in part, to zoning laws that limit where cultivation facilities can be located. It is much easier to locate in an industrial, commercial area than a residential area. Many of these industrial areas are in close proximity to low-income communities (like Globeville and Elyria-Swansea), leading to resentment and suspicion from residents. Furthermore, while marijuana dispensaries are barred from locating within one thousand feet of schools and churches, the same rules do not apply to cultivation facilities. Nor are public forums required as part of the licensing process for cultivation facilities located in industrially zoned areas. This limits residents’ ability to contest their presence.
Carmen Garcia resides in a community where the number of marijuana cultivation facilities has grown exponentially since 2014. “Just because we’re poor it’s not fair that they bring these kind of businesses here,” she stated at a public hearing on the issue in 2016. “These kind of things do not happen in rich and wealthy neighborhoods” (Gelardi Reference Gelardi2016). Luz Lomeli likewise lives in a neighborhood impacted by the increase in marijuana cultivation. In 2016, the smell of marijuana was a constant in and around her daughters’ school, which is located near a marijuana cultivation operation. Some days, she would tell her children not to go outside because the odors were so strong: “They stay inside the cafeteria, they stay inside the school, which at the same time… I do feel bad because, I mean, they do want to come out especially if it’s a nice day” (Gelardi Reference Gelardi2016).
Starbuds opened its Elyria location on Brighton Boulevard in 2013. The bottom floor of the two-story building was the retail sales floor, and the top floor was devoted to cultivation. In 2016, the cultivation facility housed 240 plants. The building had previously been a deli and was vacant for many years before being leased by Starbuds.Footnote 10 As noted above, state laws limit residents’ ability to challenge the licensing of cultivation facilities in industrially zoned areas. But different procedures are in place in mixed-use areas such as the Starbuds location. Neighborhood activists, residents, and other business owners were thus able to challenge Starbuds’s license renewal. They centered their objections on the odors being emitted by the cultivation facility on the second floor. Nola Miguel, a member of a registered neighborhood organization called Cross Community Coalition, submitted a letter detailing the problems associated with the odors coming from Starbuds:
The odor coming from the facility is constant and pungent; this is unacceptable for being adjacent to residential homes where people are not comfortable opening their windows or going outside on their porches. The smell is irritating to many neighbors that feel they may be allergic.Footnote 11
She noted that several residents had complained of symptoms triggered by the odor, such as headaches and burning throat, and that it had an additional health impact by preventing them from going outside to exercise. But the complaint went further. It referenced the Denver Retail Marijuana Code (DRMC). Section 6-214(a)(3) explains the conditions under which a retail marijuana cultivation license would not be renewed. Four of the five criteria were particularly important in the case:
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a. The existence of the retail marijuana cultivation facility on the licensed premises has frustrated the implementation of the city’s comprehensive plan and any adopted neighborhood plan applicable to the subject property;
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b. The existence of the retail marijuana cultivation facility on the licensed premises has negatively affected nearby properties or the neighborhood in general, including by way of example any adverse effects caused by excessive noise, odors, vehicular traffic, or any negative effects on nearby property values;
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c. The existence of the retail marijuana cultivation facility has caused crime rates to increase in the surrounding neighborhood;
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d. The continued existence of a licensed retail marijuana cultivation facility in the subject location will have a deleterious impact on public health, safety and the general welfare of the neighborhood or the cityFootnote 12
The hearing officer determined that sufficient evidence had been presented to deny Starbuds’s license renewal based on criteria listed under section 6-214(a)(3) of the DRMC. Based on testimony by residents, odors were having “a deleterious impact on public health, safety and the general welfare” by triggering headaches and making it difficult for residents to go outside and enjoy the outdoors or exercise (subparagraph d). Odors were negatively affecting “nearby properties or the neighborhood in general” by impeding the enjoyment and use of backyards, bus stops, sidewalks, and neighboring businesses by customers (subparagraph b). And odors were frustrating “the implementation of the city’s comprehensive plan and any adopted neighborhood plan” by violating the odor mitigation directives contained in the Elyria and Swansea Neighborhoods Plan (2015), which had been adopted by the Denver City Council in 2015 (subparagraph a). This plan was focused on the redevelopment of the neighborhoods, adding green space and new businesses—including the $1.1 billion National Western Center project—and reducing the negative impact of existing industries on quality of life. Odor reduction was a significant goal of the plan, and marijuana odors were specifically targeted. The report includes a paragraph entitled “Address the Odor Impacts of the Marijuana Industry”: “Mitigate the odors and emissions from marijuana grow facilities on residential neighborhoods through methods such as land use designation, siting, buffering, good neighbor agreements, encouraging the addition of carbon filtering, or other means” (Elyria and Swansea Neighborhoods Plan 2015, 77).
At the same time that Starbuds was being challenged, the Denver City Council was working to address the disproportionate impact of the expanded legal marijuana industry on neighborhoods like Elyria-Swansea. Again, odor concerns were at the center of the discussion. Though the council split on capping the number of licenses that would be issued to businesses, there was broad agreement that odor could and should be addressed. The agreement was so broad, in fact, that council member Albus Brooks, who represented Elyria-Swansea, became concerned that too much faith was being put in the city’s ability to control odors through targeted ordinance enforcement: “When you begin to saturate and when you begin to concentrate [businesses], there’s no smell ordinance that can identify where this is coming from” (Murray Reference Murray2016a).
The City Council charged Denver’s Department of Environmental Health with developing rules that would govern odors produced by the marijuana industry. The department convened an Odor Advisory Group. This group included representatives from government, industry (including the marijuana industry), and neighborhood associations, including several participants in the Starbuds case. This multi-stakeholder approach sought to minimize conflict by including those businesses that would be subject to the new regulations in the rule-making process while also working to “empower community members with knowledge to be partners in regulation of odorous industries.”Footnote 13 The primary outcome of the group’s efforts was the requirement that all odor-producing industries submit an Odor Control Plan. Detailed descriptions of the system to be installed and practices to be used were required, as well as descriptions of administrative controls, engineering controls, and procedures for tracking and responding to complaints. This plan would then be subject to approval by state and city agencies and would continue to be part of licensing and operating requirements. Thus, rather than suggesting revisions to zoning laws, growing practices, or other factors that would most directly shape the distribution of odors, the group sought a technological fix overseen by administrative processes.Footnote 14
In closing this section, it is important to highlight how odor complaints have provided a venue for those who object to marijuana legalization to contest it. The antimarijuana legalization group, Smart Colorado, for instance, directs people on its website to call and complain about marijuana odors, employing a strategy visible in all of the cases surveyed here.Footnote 15 There is also the case of the Reillys that opened this section. They were no ordinary plaintiffs but, rather, the founders of the nonprofit, Safe Streets Alliance, whose mission includes “reducing crime and illegal drug dealing” (Safe Streets Alliance v Hickenlooper 2017, 879-80). Indeed, it is their organization that is named as the plaintiff in the court proceedings. And their suit encompassed not just those individuals involved in the cultivation facility near their property but also a host of others linked to legalization itself, including the former governor and the director of the Marijuana Enforcement Division. Their choice of venue—the federal court system—was also strategic in that they were working to trigger the enforcement of federal laws, under which marijuana remains illegal. In fact, their case was not a standard nuisance case but, rather, a case under the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (RICO) (1970), in which the civil complaint related to smell was one of the perceived harms giving the plaintiffs standing in federal court. RICO laws have been used as a civil tool to prosecute organized crime.Footnote 16
Something similar may have been going on in the Starbuds case. It provided a rare opportunity for residents of low-income neighborhoods to challenge the expansion of marijuana cultivation in their communities. Even one of Starbuds’s owners stated: “[T]his is an attack against the industry, not just Starbuds” (Murray Reference Murray2016b). To this end, the Starbuds case is the exception that proves the rule, as residents of neighborhoods in North Denver have little recourse under existing law to challenge marijuana cultivation facilities in the industrial zones that surround their communities. In illustrating both the possibilities and limits of using marijuana’s odor as a means of contesting legalization, these cases highlight the smell of marijuana as a site where a variety of laws (municipal codes, federal RICO laws) are being called upon to resolve conflicts in the shifting context of legalization. As these cases also show, the way in which these conflicts are resolved is significantly shaped by legalization’s status as a commercial enterprise. Zoning and other laws that are essential to the construction of markets and facilitation of commerce under capitalism work to enable the legal marijuana market’s continued functioning, even in the wake of complaints from other businesses and private property owners. Thus, the marijuana industry is aligning with established patterns of legally mediated conflict resolution in the context of capitalism.
The Smell of Marijuana As Commerce
The discussion in the preceding sections has focused on the smell of marijuana as it interacts with state law. But the promise of Amendment 64 was that the state would not, in fact, implement marijuana legalization. Rather, the private sector, in the form of the marijuana industry, would play the lead role. As noted above, Amendment 64 framed marijuana legalization as an economic issue. Its passage tasked the state legislature with creating a commercial market in marijuana that would be serviced by a private, for-profit industry. This industry would be regulated by the state. At the same time, it would itself do the work of regulation through the mechanism of the “free market.”Footnote 17 Indeed, the purpose of the regulatory infrastructure created by the state legislature was to facilitate the industry’s ability to service the marijuana market, thereby providing its own market-based form of regulatory oversight. This would be achieved by treating users of marijuana as customers rather than criminals.
The legal marijuana market was thus both subject to, and an implementer of, regulation, mobilizing both legal (that is, state law) and extralegal (that is, the “laws” of supply and demand) regulatory mechanisms. Understanding this market, then, involves looking beyond state law, attending to the “social life of plural forms of rule-making” (Bedford, Casey, and Flynn Reference Bedford, Casey and Flynn2018, 7), including such ostensibly extralegal forms of rule-making as consumer experience and consumption practices promoted by the industry in the retail environment. It also means looking beyond the domains where laws are violated (crime) or conflicts arise (nuisance) to the more quotidian spaces where law’s presence is so unremarkable as to be virtually illegible as law (Silbey Reference Silbey2019, 3, 13–14).
The marijuana industry has grown dramatically since the passage of Amendment 64. In the first two years alone (2014–16), the number of marijuana licenses issued by state agencies increased by 70 percent (Seaborn Reference Seaborn2017). As of September 2018, there were 3,069 active marijuana licenses (Seaborn Reference Seaborn2018). The boom of the marijuana industry has been a boon for state revenues. Since recreational sales began in 2014, the industry has generated over six billion dollars in sales, which has produced over 993 million in tax revenue.Footnote 18
Since 2014, my research team and I have been conducting ethnographic observation at dispensaries.Footnote 19 Dispensaries are the public face of the marijuana industry. They are the space where the promise of Amendment 64—the ability to legally buy and sell marijuana—is realized. Marijuana dispensaries take many forms. Some shops are self-consciously “high end” and feel like a wine bar or expensive coffee shop. Others feel more like a bakery or juice bar. Still others offer a more stereotypical “hippy” or “stoner” aesthetic, with lots of tie-dye and portraits of Bob Marley (or, in the case of one dispensary, a portrait of Mona Lisa smoking a joint). Others offer what might be thought of as a “street” aesthetic, highlighting links between marijuana and urban expressive culture such as graffiti, skateboarding, and hip-hop. Finally, there are some that emphasize the medical side, with waiting rooms that feel like a doctor’s office.
No matter the model, all dispensaries put smell at the center of the retail experience. The smell in question is the aroma produced by the flower of the cannabis plant. These flowers are what most people think of when they hear the term “marijuana.” While every dispensary sells a variety of products, from marijuana-infused chocolates and gummies to tinctures and lotions, the flower or “bud” occupies a privileged position. Each dispensary sells different kinds of flowers called strains. These are stored in glass jars that usually sit on, in, or behind a glass display case. Budtenders offer the jar to customers who are invited to stick their nose in and appreciate the aroma. Smell is so central to the retail experience that an employee at one dispensary told every customer as they entered the sales room: “Smell everything! That’s an order!”
When entering a dispensary, we (members of the research team) often presented ourselves as tourists curious about this new world of legal marijuana. Such tourism is common. Here are a research team member’s abbreviated field notes from 2017:
The shop is in a strip mall. The exterior of the building is black with a glass front door. The windows are tinted so you can’t see in, but it allows in some natural light into the waiting area. There is a check in area right as you walk in. It has a plexiglass window with a small space for IDs and a microphone for communicating.
I’m alone in the waiting area only briefly before a woman who looks to be in her twenties comes in. “They haven’t checked me in yet,” I say. Three minutes later an employee appears behind the plexiglass. “Let me check you guys in. So sorry for the wait. How you doing today?” He exudes happiness and positivity. I say I’m doing great. “Oh wow that’s great. We always like to hear that,” he says. I ask how he’s doing. “You know I have no complaints,” he says. “If you have complaints working in a pot shop then there’s something wrong with you!”
A minute later a different employee, a woman with long brown hair in her twenties, opens the door to the sales area and calls my name. I tell her I’m visiting from out of town and wondering if she can give me an introduction. “Absolutely,” she says. “First thing is that all of our display cases are exactly the same. That should make it a little less overwhelming.” I look into the glass display case in front of us. It has three rows of products. Edibles are on top, as well as pre-rolled joints. Below are topicals, such as lotions and patches.
On top of the case is a silver tray with glass jars of flower. “These are the strains we have available today,” she says. Each jar is labeled with the strain name, the percent THC, and the price. We start with a strain named Peach Ringz. She opens the lid and hands it to me to smell. I stick my nose in the jar. It definitely smells like peaches.
“How do I know this is quality flower?” I ask. “Lots of different ways,” she says. First is THC content. But that can be misleading. “A lot of people go to this first and think the higher the THC the stronger it will be, but that’s not always the case.” What’s more important are the terpenes, which are the chemical compounds that produce the smell. She points to a lower THC strain that delivers a “much stonier high” due to its terpene profile.
Second is appearance. She points to the differences between the Peach Ringz strain, which has a golden, tight appearance, and Purple Alien OG, which is purple and fluffy. I ask about smell. She says, “If you like how it smells you’re going to like how it tastes.”
Market activity such as this does not call attention to itself as law. This, despite the fact that markets are “literally sets of legal rules” (Desautels-Stein Reference Desautels-Stein2012, 393). Law is most conspicuous in the marijuana market when it is serving a regulatory function. Budtenders check IDs to enforce restrictions on who can purchase marijuana and how much. The location of dispensaries as well as their appearance are similarly determined by zoning and other legal restrictions. Products available for purchase must have passed through the state’s “seed-to-sale” tracking system and comply with a host of laws related to potency, presentation, packaging, and price. A package of THC-infused gummies, for instance, must be in child-resistant packaging, contain dosage information (that complies with state standards), carry the universal symbol for THC-containing products (a red square with an exclamation point and the letters “THC”), and be in a legally compliant shape (animal shapes like bears or worms are prohibited). The price at sale must also contain the taxes applied by city, county, and state jurisdictions, which often total well over 20 percent.
But these regulations are just the visible tip of a much larger legal iceberg whose broader purpose is to facilitate, rather than restrict, commerce and market activity. In a market economy,
law functions as a form of infrastructure to facilitate trade and exchange. Because the law and legal institutions function primarily as infrastructure for trade and exchange, they are frequently underappreciated. To many people, trade seems to happen by operation of an invisible hand; with law appearing primarily when a transaction goes bad and the parties need to resolve a dispute. Dispute resolution is, of course, an important function of law, but much of law deals with making transactions stable, efficient, and predictable, even if it is between parties who are unknown to each other. (Malloy Reference Malloy2016, 168).
The smell of marijuana plays an important role in this context. While the legal infrastructure created by the state legislature makes the marijuana market possible, the economic potential of this market is not realized until the product is experienced by customers as desirable. Here, the regulations noted above play a facilitative role, contributing to a product’s commercial desirability by offering reassurances about its legality and safety. Attention to smell takes this one step further, making the product desirable at the level of sensory experience. When customers act on this desire and make a purchase, they enable the market to function as its own form of regulatory oversight of the production, distribution, and consumption of marijuana.
The person with the greatest responsibility to facilitate the consumer experience in the marijuana market is the budtender. Budtenders are to marijuana what baristas are to coffee (though, unlike baristas, they must be licensed by the state). They are expected to have extensive knowledge about the product (though this is not part of the licensing process) and be able to provide a positive customer experience. Customers rely on budtenders to explain the array of products that are available in dispensaries and help them identify which of those products they will most enjoy. Smell plays a vital role in this process. In the example above, the budtender emphasized smell as being key to determining both the quality and the effect a strain was likely to produce. Josh, a budtender at an expanding dispensary in Denver, took a similar approach. He explained that many customers came in fixated on THC content or strain type. However he encouraged them to focus on smell. A strain’s smell revealed its “terpene profile,” which was a better guide to its effects. He explained:
Your terpenes are the aromatic compounds which are responsible for the aroma, at which point people will be able to start to pinpoint, “Hey, things with this lemony-type scent, or this piney-type scent have this effect on me,” versus, “This musky-skunky has this effect, versus this sweet bubble gum-like scent has this effect.” And that’s really how people are able to determine what the effects are going to be.
Budtenders like Josh encouraged customers to trust their olfactory instincts. But others said that appreciating the smell of marijuana was a skill that had to be learned. Jeff, a longtime marijuana consumer who worked in a cultivation facility described this process:
[T]he smell’s funny because when you first smell it, it smells horrible. Like it just doesn’t smell good at all. Like a, kinda like a skunk, but … over time you get to smelling and really the stinkier the stuff that smells the worst in the beginning, is what you like the most in the end and those are kind of your favorite. And it’s to the point now where like if I’m driving somewhere and like I’ll smell a skunk I’ll be like, “Kinda smells kinda good.” It’s just being around it so much I think you just, just get used to it and you enjoy it, you know?
Casey, an experienced home cultivator, told almost the same story:
I think it’s kind of funny because when I was a kid we’d go by a skunk that’d been run over on the road and you would be talking for the next five minutes how, how much you hated that smell. But it’s fascinating how much cannabis smells like a skunk. And now I drive by a skunk that’d been run over on the road and I think, “Wow, that’s some really good weed!”
The skunk smell is perhaps the most notorious aroma associated with marijuana. But it is just one of many that can be present. And the variety of aromas is multiplying in the wake of legalization. Some growers use special supplements to give plants particular scents. But the standard approach is through conventional practices of plant cultivation, such as mixing different strains. Casey explained:
Like one, one strain we have, actually I’ve never smelled something quite like it, I think it smells almost like urine or something, and then we have other strains that just smell really pungently like fruity, like some smell even like musty a little bit even though, I mean, there’s obviously no, nothing to make it smell like that.
The sheer variety of smells and strains made the discussion of marijuana’s smell in the abstract difficult. Steve, who had been working as a budtender for just over a year when we interviewed him, responded when we asked: “How would you describe the smell of marijuana?”
That’s gonna be very dependent on the strain. Very commonly though you’ll find more fruitier sensations. They do have diesel or chemical ones that will smell like a diesel or a chemical. But I mean the aromatherapy of it, I mean that can go so wide. There’s just so many strains being crossed anymore. You can really have it smell about like anything you’d like.
Several budtenders echoed this perspective. Kelly, a budtender in Denver, said:
Every single strain smells different to me. Some of them smell like roses, some of them smell like citrus, some of them smell like grapefruit, some of them smell like licorice. Some of them smell like skunk.
Taylor, another Denver budtender, described marijuana’s smell as:
Interviewee: Typically earthy and aromatic and lovely.
Interviewer: Do you guys deal with a lot of different strains there?
Interviewee: Yeah.
Interviewer: Yeah? So, generally earthy would, would cover all the strains?
Interviewee: No, maybe not so much, but lovely would.
To facilitate participation in the marijuana market through smell, budtenders are drawing on the language of other industries. At one dispensary, a research team member witnessed an exchange between a budtender and two customers in Colorado on business. They entered the dispensary and announced: “We’re from Texas and we’re just being tourists … we wanted to see the future.” They asked about the jars of bud on the counter, and the budtender described what it meant to be a “cannabis connoisseur” through reference to the wine and craft beer industries: “If you’re already on your wine game or craft beer game you’re almost there.” Christian Hageseth, a Colorado-based cannabis entrepreneur, likewise looked to these industries to describe his transition from an irregular consumer of “street weed” to a connoisseur of the “prime stuff” produced in Colorado’s legal industry:
If I can compare it to anything it would be like that moment … when you’re out at a fine restaurant and the sommelier arrives at your table to talk about wine. The second she speaks, she is initiating you into a specialized language honed over centuries to describe the seemingly indescribable—notes, nose, legs, palate, mouthfeel (Hageseth Reference Hageseth2015, 15, 34–35).
Matthew Huron, chief executive officer of Good Chemistry, has tried to formalize this language. His company developed “a consumer evaluation tool similar to what exists for diamonds and wine” (Hill Reference Hill2016). This tool is the STATS guide, a free downloadable guide to cannabis evaluation.Footnote 20 The name, STATS, is an acronym for sight, touch, aroma, taste, and sensation. Aromas associated with “good quality” cannabis include floral, fruit, diesel fuel, skunk, pine, earthy, cheese, sweet, and citrus. The aromas associated with “poor quality” include mold, hay, must, old socks, wet grass, and, tellingly, no smell at all. The STATS guide signals that sensory appreciation of marijuana is a skill—and a vocabulary—that must be learned. And it must be learned because the smells that signify high-quality cannabis do not map directly onto conventional understandings of “good” and “bad” odors. “Diesel fuel” or “skunk,” for instance, are thought of as bad smells in most situations, but, in this industry, they are associated with good quality cannabis. Conversely, “wet grass” and “hay,” which would be considered neutral or even pleasant smells in the proper context, are signs of poor quality cannabis. Learning to appreciate quality cannabis, then, is not just a matter of following the nose’s “natural” inclinations but also of learning to appreciate even well-known aromas in a new way. Indeed, this is one of the hallmarks of connoisseurship: to have one’s senses so highly attuned as to be able to know when what the untrained nose would perceive as “bad” is actually “good.”Footnote 21
Sensory descriptions of strain offerings also feature prominently on dispensary websites. Good Chemistry offers seventy different strains on its website. The initial list features the strain name and a magazine quality picture of the flower. Names include Bruce Banner, Alien Dawg, Chernobyl, Grape Ape, Hindu Kush, Orange Wi-Fi, and Lemon Skunk. Clicking on a picture takes you to the strain’s profile, which provides a description and overview using the STATS guide. The description of Lemon Skunk reads: “Lemon Skunk proudly sits as one of Good Chemistry’s most popular strains. A sweet tasting strain with lemon & skunk aromas, Lemon Skunk may have happy, pleasurable effects.”Footnote 22 Sight notes are “orange” and “medium,” referring to the bud’s color and size. Touch is described as “medium,” referring to the density of the bud and the degree of “bounce back” when squeezed. Aroma is described as “citrus” and “skunk,” two classic cannabis scents. Taste is described as “skunk.” And sensation is termed “amplify,” which the STATS guide describes as enhancing perception, creativity, and pleasure and “may help you feel euphoric and energized.”Footnote 23 Similar information is presented on the websites of other dispensaries. The terminology is not standardized. Native Roots, for instance, only highlights three attributes: smell, taste, and feel.Footnote 24 Buddy Boy provides more detailed descriptions than other websites, highlighting experience, aroma, taste, and appearance as well as strain type and genetics, all in a narrative format.Footnote 25 Additional diversity can be found on websites such as LeaflyFootnote 26 and Weedmaps,Footnote 27 which provide information on strains (including history, genetics, and aromas) and venues for users to submit their own strain reviews.
None of this smell-centered market activity is immediately legible as law. As such, buyers and sellers may not think of themselves as legal actors, but their activity is essential for a market-based legal change like that of marijuana legalization to be successful. Indeed, legalization in Colorado fundamentally depends on repeated acts of economic exchange facilitated by consumer engagement. This is the means through which the state and private sector’s joint efforts to produce and oversee the marijuana market are realized. The state has provided the basic legal infrastructure through which the market operates. The industry has implemented a suite of business strategies designed to maximize profitability within the particular legal framework created by the state. When consumers make a purchase, they actualize this market and help the state legislature fulfill its obligation to voters under Amendment 64. They also enable the industry to perform its role as a market-based form of regulatory oversight. As they do, they are encouraged to adopt a new set of associations between the smell of marijuana and commerce. The fruit of this effort is money, which goes both to the industry (in the form of profit) and the state (in the form of tax revenue).
Making money from marijuana is more than instrumental. Given the economic focus of Amendment 64, the market’s profitability—its success qua market—is a vital metric of the law’s effectiveness—its success qua law. Smell-based practices of consumption thus serve as extralegal forms of rule-making and governance grounded in the consumer experience that facilitate the market’s commercial cum regulatory function by providing a familiar discourse of desire, pleasure, and assessment.
Such practices are also a means of legal contestation. By insisting that the smell of marijuana is something that can be enjoyed, with the “stinkier” strains often becoming the most enjoyable, budtenders and other industry actors are mobilizing a discourse of connoisseurship and expertise to undermine the legitimacy of framings that link the smell of marijuana to criminality and nuisance. This is an effort to create a new, postprohibition common sense in which marijuana’s smell is no longer always assumed to be a sign of malfeasance.
CONCLUSION
Marijuana legalization is a moment of significant sociolegal change. It is a moment in which marijuana’s association with criminality is being challenged through the particular market-based model that is the hallmark of the US approach. It also marks a moment in which the ways capitalist law “looks, smells, and acts capitalist” become highly conspicuous as they are renegotiated. This analysis shows that the ongoing construction of legality that is part and parcel of everyday life is inseparable from the ways in which capitalist law reproduces itself. It also shows that the senses are central to how this work takes place. Marijuana legalization is implicated in these processes in particular ways. Its implementation has been characterized by an increase in what Alain Corbin (Reference Corbin1986) has termed “olfactory vigilance”—a growing sensitivity to odors based on a heightened sense of their (in this case, legal) significance.
Such olfactory vigilance is evident across the three modes of legality surveyed here: criminal, nuisance, and commercial. Though these three modes are distinct, they share a common point of orientation following legalization. Criminal law now serves to police nonauthorized participants in the marijuana marketplace. These efforts are essential to the process of marketization and help the authorized market claim its status as the only legitimate space of marijuana production, distribution, and consumption. Nuisance law holds the promise of providing voice to those who object to the presence of the industry either in whole or in part, though zoning and other laws work to limit the reach of such tools. Fundamental classifications in capitalist legal systems, such as residential/commercial and public/private, directly shape who can object to the industry and on what grounds. Finally, the legal marijuana market that was enabled by the regulatory infrastructure created by the state legislature is the realization of the promise of legalization itself. Amendment 64 passed largely on an economic promise. The industry serving this new market is bringing it to fruition by developing legally compliant forms of production, distribution, and consumption. But this is not enough. For the market to be fully realized, the industry is also implementing business practices designed to maximize profitability, including significant focus on the consumer experience where smell plays an important role. Thus, the smell of marijuana’s broadened legal significance in the context of legalization illustrates how capitalist law “looks, smells, and acts” by showing the ways in which capitalist values provide a general orientation even as law performs such distinct functions as social control, conflict resolution, and facilitation of economic exchange.
Those living in the ambit of legalization must contend with these changes. And as they do, their own sense of smell is evolving. Smell indexes the complex feelings that accompany legalization, enabling celebration, irritation, and resignation to coexist. Working through these feelings, often through the sense of smell, Colorado residents grapple anew with the most enduring question of all: What is the proper place of the cannabis plant in our collective life? And what role should law be playing to so emplace it?