The United States took a meaningful step forward this week.

With the signing of an executive order directing the reclassification of cannabis from a Schedule I to a Schedule III substance, the federal government has begun to unwind one of the most consequential policy contradictions of the last century. While this action does not legalize cannabis at the federal level, which is what we are ultimately fighting for, it signals something incredibly important: an official acknowledgment that the long-standing classification of cannabis as a substance with “no accepted medical use” was never aligned with reality.

For patients, practitioners, researchers, and communities who have lived with the consequences of prohibition, this moment is overdue. For those of us working to integrate cannabis into modern wellness and healthcare systems responsibly, it is a necessary—if incomplete—course correction.

As the founder of an Ayurvedic wellness company built around the philosophy of food as medicine, this decision resonates deeply with me. Not because it confirms something new, but because it finally begins to validate something ancient.

Ayurveda, one of the world’s oldest medical sciences, has recognized the therapeutic potential of cannabis for thousands of years. Classical Ayurvedic texts describe cannabis not as a recreational novelty or a moral threat, but as a powerful plant ally—one that must be used thoughtfully, with discernment, and in proper context. In Ayurveda, cannabis was never treated as a one-size-fits-all solution. It was respected as a medicine with benefits, risks, and specific indications, to be administered carefully based on an individual’s constitution, condition, and environment.

This nuanced understanding stands in stark contrast to the binary framework imposed by modern prohibition: a framework that erased complexity, suppressed research, and replaced medicine with ideology.

For decades in the United States, cannabis policy has been shaped less by science and more by fear, misinformation, and economic incentives that favored certain corporate and political interests. By classifying cannabis alongside substances like heroin and denying its medical value outright, the federal government not only restricted access—it actively blocked research, discouraged clinical exploration, and distorted public understanding of a plant that had been used medicinally across cultures for millennia.

The result has been a profound disconnect. Patients turned to cannabis in practice while policy insisted it had no value. States legalized medical and adult-use programs while federal law pretended those realities did not exist. Researchers struggled to study a plant that millions were already using.

Reclassifying cannabis to Schedule III does not erase these contradictions overnight. But it begins to address them.

This shift opens the door to expanded medical research, allowing scientists to more easily study cannabis’s therapeutic potential, risks, and appropriate applications. It acknowledges that cannabis does not belong in the same regulatory category as substances with no accepted medical use. And it begins to align federal policy with what patients, clinicians, and ancient medical systems have long understood: that cannabis can play a legitimate role in healthcare when used responsibly.

At the same time, it is important to be clear about what this moment is—and what it is not.

This is not full federal legalization. It does not resolve criminal justice disparities rooted in decades of enforcement. It does not automatically dismantle barriers faced by small operators, legacy growers, or communities disproportionately harmed by prohibition. And it does not guarantee that future regulation will be equitable, accessible, or grounded in holistic health rather than profit alone.

Progress, however, is rarely instantaneous. It is iterative. And this step matters.

What concerns me most—and what must remain central as reform continues—is how we define cannabis moving forward. If we reduce this plant solely to a commercial commodity or isolate it as a single-compound pharmaceutical input, we risk repeating the same mistakes that led us here. Cannabis is not just THC. It is not just CBD. It is not just a tax category or an industry vertical.

Cannabis is a plant with medical, agricultural, cultural, and spiritual dimensions.

It has the potential to support pain management, sleep, mental health, and recovery. It offers sustainable fiber that can replace environmentally harmful materials. It plays a role in regenerative agriculture and soil health. And across many traditions—including Ayurveda—it has been used as a consciousness-altering tool for introspection, healing, and spiritual inquiry.

To ignore these dimensions is to misunderstand the plant entirely.

As federal policy evolves, we have a responsibility to ensure that research, regulation, and commercialization are guided by integrity rather than convenience. That means investing in whole-plant research, not just isolated compounds. It means honoring traditional knowledge systems alongside modern science. It means creating regulatory frameworks that prioritize patient care, public health, and environmental sustainability—not just corporate consolidation.

At Veda Warrior, our work sits at the intersection of ancient wisdom and modern systems. We believe the future of wellness lies not in rejecting science, nor in dismissing tradition, but in integrating the two with humility and rigor. Cannabis reform, when done correctly, offers an opportunity to do exactly that.

This moment also calls for continued activism.

The reclassification of cannabis did not happen in a vacuum. It came after years of advocacy by patients, industry leaders, researchers, and communities demanding change. That advocacy cannot stop here. Meaningful reform requires sustained pressure, thoughtful dialogue, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths about how prohibition was constructed and who it benefited.

We must continue pushing for policies that expand access to research, protect small and mission-driven operators, repair harms caused by criminalization, and recognize cannabis as more than a revenue stream. We must insist that wellness—not fear or profit—remains at the center of this conversation.

This executive action represents progress. But progress is only valuable if it leads somewhere.

My hope is that this moment marks the beginning of a broader reckoning: one where the United States finally allows science, history, and lived experience to inform cannabis policy. One where ancient knowledge systems like Ayurveda are no longer dismissed, but respected as early forms of evidence-based medicine. And one where humanity is allowed to fully explore what this plant can offer—not just for treatment, but for healing, sustainability, and collective well-being.

The door has opened.

Now we must decide how far we are willing to walk through it.

—
Smrita Choubey
Founder & CEO, Veda Farms and Veda Warrior