Pubdate: Wed, 26 Mar 2014
Source: Washington Post (DC)
Copyright: 2014 The Washington Post Company
Contact: http://mapinc.org/url/mUgeOPdZ
Website: http://www.washingtonpost.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/491
Author: Ben Terris

THE POT LOBBY SUITS UP

It Took Michael Correia More Than a Week After Getting His New Job to 
Tell His Parents He Was a Marijuana Lobbyist.

"I just got a job lobbying for a small-business trade association 
that focuses on taxes and banking issues," he told them four months 
ago after being hired by the National Cannabis Industry Association.

He wasn't lying, but for a guy who had been working for Republicans 
and conservative organizations for the better part of 16 years, 
telling his mom and dad about representing Big Pot wasn't exactly 
high on his list. It wasn't the first time he neglected to tell his 
parents about marijuana in his life. He smoked it about a dozen times 
as a teenager before deciding that all it did was make him hungry and tired.

"That's news to me," says his mother, Joanne, noting that she 
counseled all three of her children against the dangers of drugs. "If 
he ever smoked it, I don't think we were ever aware of it. But if he 
did, he got past it, obviously. Now he doesn't even drink coffee."

Correia, 44, may not have intended to tell his parents about his past 
marijuana use, but he didn't plan on hiding the details of his new 
job forever. Eventually, Correia let them know he was the first 
full-time lobbyist on Capitol Hill for the NCIA - essentially the 
Chamber of Commerce for marijuana. It was true that he was focusing 
on small businesses; they just happened to have names such as 
Weedmaps, Chronic Clinic and Haze City.

"When he told us, it never entered our minds, 'Good grief - that's 
illegal, immoral' or anything," Joanne says. "He's not going to do 
anything that's not all right. We're incredibly proud."

Standing at 6-foot-4 with the remnants of a California tan, a full 
head of hair, a red power tie and a black overcoat, Correia, a guy 
who never saw the inside of a principal's office growing up, is the 
new face of marijuana in Washington. Gone are the culture warriors, 
the fliers of freak flags. They're not needed here anymore. In 1969, 
a Gallup poll found that only 12 percent of the country supported the 
legalization of marijuana. Last year, that number was 58 percent.

The battle over whether marijuana is a moral turpitude is over. It 
has been replaced by a series of smaller, professional fights: where 
it should be legalized, how it should be taxed and how it must be 
regulated. But add up all those little skirmishes and what you have 
is a fight for the soul of the marijuana movement.

"I think what we're seeing now is the transition from the movement to 
the lobby," says Mark Kleiman, a UCLA professor who moonlights as 
Washington state's drug czar. "The hippies are being pushed aside by 
the suits. That's too bad, because the interest of the hippies has 
been consistent with the public view, and the interest of the suits 
is opposed."

That's one way to look at it. The other is that the movement has grown up.

"It's really a legitimate and respected force now," says Rep. Jared 
Polis (D-Colo.), one of the leading voices on marijuana legalization 
in the House. "It's not just true-believer activists running around, 
getting off-message."

The bottom line

It would be impossible to mistake Correia for a "true believer." Even 
today he won't say whether he supports the legalization of marijuana.

"Luckily, I don't have to get into that argument or discussion," he says.

Correia is a hired gun, someone who understands how things get done 
in Washington more than he cares about whether people get high.

Born into a family of Democrats, Correia found a different political 
identity when he went to the University of California at San Diego. 
After college, he spent nine years working as a Republican staffer on 
the House Committee on Natural Resources before getting a job leading 
outreach to Capitol Hill and the White House as the director of 
federal affairs for the American Legislative Exchange Council, an 
organization that helps draft conservative legislation with financial 
support from the Koch brothers. Among other things, ALEC has helped 
write tough sentencing laws targeting drug users.

Though Correia was a generalist at ALEC - he worked on issues such as 
Internet taxation and also helped maintain alumni relations - he says 
he had no dealings with its drug policy work. He thus felt no moral 
qualms about applying for a job with NCIA last year. If you take out 
the word "marijuana," Correia's job sounds incredibly boring. His 
main job is to persuade lawmakers to do two things: change the tax 
code to lessen the burden on entrepreneurs and give these small 
businesses access to banks.

It comes across as small-bore to some marijuana activists.

"We want to switch out the engine, and they just want to make a 
quarter turn on a screw on the carburetor," says Allen St. Pierre, 
head of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws, 
or NORML. "Myself, I've always been much more comfortable advocating 
for civil rights rather than someone's bottom line."

St. Pierre smiles when he says this. A self-described "polemist," 
he's always looking for a fight, but he also knows the major battle 
has been won.

For proof, St. Pierre picks up a receipt for $73.01 - Super Lemon 
Haze: $22.16; Kool Aid Kush: $22.16; exit jar: $0.82; Wana Rolls: 
$14.77; tax: $13.10. A legal purchase from Terrapin Care Station in 
Boulder, Colo.

Look around the organization's office and it's easy to tell that, for 
NORML, it's always been about the weed. There's a vintage "Acapulco 
rolling papers" advertisement, a fake potted marijuana plant, a scale 
with a pot leaf on it, and an old "Reefer Madness" movie poster.

But don't be fooled, this paraphernalia is no longer a demarcation of 
the counterculture. Pot is becoming square.

"I pick up the Wall Street Journal, Barron's and Forbes," St. Pierre 
says, "and they've written more about marijuana in the last 18 months 
than the prior 24 years I've been here. And they are writing about it 
as pure capitalism."

New set of challenges

NORML has come a long way since Keith Stroup founded the organization 
with $5,000 in seed money from Playboy in 1970. Stroup, who currently 
works as legal counsel for NORML, says it's a luxury to nitpick over 
issues such as whether marijuana needs to be stored in a locked box. 
And yet, the shift from movement to industry does come with it's problems.

"People in the industry are primarily interested in getting rich," 
says Stroup, whose long white hair and prominent cheekbones make him 
look like a composer from the 1600s. "When we were a distance off, 
you see people as either being for legalization or opposed to it. 
Those were the sides. Now, it's not that simple."

Now there are folks such as Kleiman, the Washington state drug czar, 
who worry that Big Pot could start to look like Big Tobacco; there 
are medical marijuana groups that worry that recreational usage could 
cut into their market share; and there are members of Congress who 
might want to see change but have other forces to deal with.

"I've seen plenty of movement among our constituency," says Rep. Dana 
Rohrabacher (RCalif.), who supports a state's right to legalize 
marijuana. "It's the elected Republicans who are still cowering, 
thinking that if they would support any type of legalization, they 
would face negative ads portraying them as pro-drug-cartel."

Congress tends to lag behind public opinion, but it usually catches 
up. And in this way, Correia has one of the most exciting jobs in lobbying.

"I used to be able to cycle through my Rolodex in a couple of days," 
says the Marijuana Policy Project's Dan Riffle, the other full-time 
lobbyist working on marijuana issues on the Hill. "Only a couple of 
offices were willing to meet. Now it's fair play in every office."

Correia has been on the job for only four months, but he already 
knows this to be true. With his more than a dozen years working on 
the Hill, there are plenty of familiar faces. But no, his Republican 
colleagues don't avert their eyes when they see the newest pot 
lobbyist coming their way.

"After saying congratulations on the new job," he says, "the first 
thing they ask me is if I have any samples."
- ---
MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom