Drug Prohibition:  “Karen’s Laws”

I have a proposition for you. Society should refer to Drug Prohibition and those who support it as “Karen’s Laws” and “Karen(s)” respectively.

Imagine this: someone eats Devil’s Trumpet—a notoriously poisonous and prolific plant with the charming side effects of delirium, organ failure, and death. Society shrugs. There are no crusades; No billion-dollar campaigns. The DEA doesn’t begin raiding suburban homes to save people from themselves. Why? Because it doesn’t also get you high. That’s what truly bothers Karens – other people feeling good.

The uncomfortable truth is that prohibition has never been about “protecting people.” If it were, the same pearl-clutchers crying about cannabis brownies would be picketing botanical gardens demanding the eradication of toxic ornamentals. But they don’t. Because the danger isn’t the issue. The danger never was.

What bothers them is joy – specifically yours.

Happiness as a Crime

I know it sounds crazy that the same people who gave us covid masks,  open borders, lock downs, vegan burgers, and compulsive pronoun use also gave us drug prohibition, but it’s true. Look at the numbers:

Alcohol kills about 140,000 Americans every year (CDC). That’s like two jumbo jets falling out of the sky. Every single day.

Tobacco? Roughly 480,000 U.S. deaths annually—the equivalent of wiping out the population of Miami – every year.

And cannabis? Zero recorded overdose deaths. Ever. Psychedelics? Same story.


Meanwhile, nobody launches a moral crusade against poisonous mushrooms or toxic berries, or pickets American Airlines. You could eat oleander leaves and drop dead tomorrow, and prohibitionists wouldn’t shed a tear—except maybe of laughter. The only time they stir is when people discover a new source of pleasure.

The Vultures of Misery

Prohibitionists are carrion-feeders. They circle overhead, feeding off fear, misery, death and control. They don’t care about preventing harm; they care about policing happiness. A person suffering in a hospital bed after swallowing a poisonous flower? That’s “tragic.” A person smiling in their living room after consuming an illegal flower? Well! That’s a “threat to society.”

It’s not about health. It’s not about safety. It’s not about harm reduction. It’s about preventing joy.

Let’s Be Honest

If the government truly wanted to keep people safe from dangerous substances, they’d criminalize half the landscaping industry. They’d ban cigarettes tomorrow. They’d outlaw alcohol again. They’d prohibit McDonald’s.  But they don’t—because those drugs either make money or reinforce misery in ways society finds “acceptable.”

So prohibitionists cling to their hollow talking points. They wag fingers and write laws not because they fear death—but because they fear joy. They’d rather watch you suffer from a “respectable” poison than laugh with friends under the influence of a forbidden flower.

And that’s the rot at the heart of prohibition: it was never about saving lives. It was about making sure you aren’t happy without them.

Prohibition should be called “Karen’s Laws.”