The seat created to ensure that legal, policy, and social-justice expertise informs cannabis regulation in Massachusetts was just filled behind closed doors
Last week, the state announced the appointment of a new commissioner to the Massachusetts Cannabis Control Commission, the seat reserved by law for someone with a background in legal, policy, or social-justice issues. The announcement named the appointee but offered no public posting, no application window, and no explanation of how that person was chosen.
That silence breaks with precedent. In earlier appointment cycles, the Commonwealth released a Cannabis Control Commission Application Form, invited submissions through the Governor, Attorney General, or Treasurer’s offices, and stated clearly that applications would be considered jointly. Those open calls gave qualified residents, many of whom helped design Massachusetts’ nation-leading equity framework, a fair chance to serve.
This time, there was no notice. No timeline. No transparency around who was considered or what criteria guided the selection.
To be clear, this is not a critique of the individual appointed, nor of the Commission itself—the CCC does not make these appointments. But when a seat designed to represent “social-justice” experience is filled in private, without a public process, even with good intentions, it weakens the trust that equity work depends on and undermines the very principles that seat was meant to protect.
The appointee brings a regulatory background, but there is no public record of experience directly tied to social-justice or equity policy—the expertise this seat was intended to represent. That gap is not about one person’s worth; it’s about how the process overlooked the purpose of the role itself.
That seat exists for a reason. It was written into law so that decisions about a billion-dollar industry, one born from decades of criminalization and exclusion, reflect the voices of those who paid the highest price. It was meant to ensure that lived experience and policy expertise coexist in shaping an equitable market.
This appointment also reflects a broader pattern in government: roles created to advance equity are too often filled by insiders with administrative credentials rather than qualified advocates or community leaders with direct experience and expertise in addressing the inequities.
Transparency isn’t a courtesy; it’s accountability. Public notice of vacancies, open calls for applicants, and clear evaluation criteria are how the Commonwealth proves it practices what it preaches. Those steps aren’t bureaucratic—they are the substance of fairness.
The communities most impacted by the War on Drugs deserve not only transparency in how decisions about representation are made, but also a fair and real chance to lead. So, tell us, who was considered, what qualifications were prioritized, and how was the final choice reached? Because that’s not a future reform—it’s a present responsibility.
Attorney General Andrea Joy Campbell, Governor Maura Healey, and Treasurer Deborah B. Goldberg, who share statutory responsibility for these appointments, should immediately release a public summary of the selection process, including outreach conducted, candidate evaluation criteria, and deliberative steps taken.
Doing so would strengthen public trust and affirm that equity in Massachusetts isn’t just a promise on paper—it’s a practice in action.
Massachusetts built its reputation as a national leader in cannabis equity by showing its work. Sustaining that leadership means ensuring transparency doesn’t stop at licensing; it extends to the very leadership itself.
If equity still matters, prove it. Publish the process.
