Reflections from 4Front’s Kris Krane
I never set out to be a marijuana entrepreneur…
It is true that the cannabis industry has seen explosive growth over the past six years, and that many businesspeople have entered this industry hoping to take advantage of the new “green rush.” But before there was an industry to build, there were legions of people working mostly for little, if any, pay to end cannabis prohibition. Not because they had designs on becoming rich when it became legalized, but because they believed in their hearts that it was the right thing to do. This is the world I came from.
Back in 1996 when I got my start in this issue there was no such thing as a “marijuana millionaire,” other than perhaps the most successful “kingpins” of the black market. But beneath the surface there was a growing discontent with our nation’s drug laws, cannabis policy in particular, that was making criminals of otherwise law-abiding citizens. Young people and people of color were, and remain, the prime targets of law enforcement for cannabis offenses. It was under this backdrop that a group of young people on campuses across the country, communicating over a new medium of communication called e-mail, started a national student movement to end the War on Drugs and called it Students for Sensible Drug Policy. I was one of those students who helped start an inaugural chapter at American University in Washington, D.C., and it set off a career path that has led me to become a prominent voice in today’s cannabis industry.
This is an issue that has always been personal for me. As a young child, I watched my father suffer, and eventually pass away, from a rare genetic form of emphysema, for which cannabis was the only thing that provided relief and allowed his lungs to open enough for him to draw breath. I also witnessed the very real and devastating impacts of heroin abuse in other members of my family. The combination of these experiences made me think there had to be a better way to approach drug policy, and set me down this career path.
For a decade I worked professionally to help end cannabis prohibition as a policy advocate and activist in Washington, D.C. My college internship at the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws turned into my first job, and I eventually became associate director of the organization. When I left NORML, I accepted a job as executive director of SSDP, the organization I had helped found as a student eight years earlier, and which had grown from five chapters and a donated desk in an ally’s office, to the largest single-issue student organization in the United States.
Entrepreneurship was the furthest thing from my mind during these years. When I started at NORML I gladly accepted a position that paid less than $20,000 a year, which afforded me the chance to live in a group house and eat the cheapest Chinese food our nation’s capital could offer. I loved it. As I made a name for myself in the reform movement, my salary grew, but always within the confines of an activist’s compensation. I couldn’t have dreamed of more. I was doing the work I always wanted to do, and getting paid to do so. The for-profit world held little appeal.
During my later years as executive director of SSDP, I began to witness the emergence of the first professional cannabis businesses. Some of these became donors of mine, helping to support the important advocacy work we were doing at a time when donations were hard to come by. Dispensaries like Harborside Health Center and Berkeley Patients Group became shining examples of how businesses could be successful, community focused, and give back to support the reform movement that helped make their existence possible.
Watching these businesses it also dawned on me that they were not only supporting reform financially, but their very existence was helping to advance the same policy goals that my colleagues and I were advocating in Washington, D.C. It became clear that showing a community that cannabis can be distributed in a way that is socially responsible, community oriented, and highly professional was having as much of an impact on changing public perception of cannabis policy as the advocacy work I had dedicated my life to. For those who encountered these storefronts, the image of a cannabis transaction shifted from the stereotype of two stoners in a basement to a beautiful and professionally run retail store. Even those who don’t use cannabis medicinally or recreationally could not feel threatened by the existence of these stores in their neighborhoods.
It was this realization that led me to make the switch from being a policy advocate to a cannabis entrepreneur. Although, at the time I didn’t think of myself as a businessperson. The new cannabis industry was a means to set up businesses that would change the public conversation and perception of cannabis policy. It is still what drives me today. At the same time, I had recently gotten married and was preparing to start a family. The prospect of advancing my policy goals, while possibly being able to provide a better life for my future children than I could on a nonprofit salary, suddenly held more weight than it had only a few years earlier. It was time to become a part of the new cannabis industry.
In late 2009, my wife and I moved from Washington, D.C., to Oakland, Calif., where I accepted a job offer from Steve DeAngelo of Harborside Health Center to help start a new consulting business that became known as CannBe. It was a concept ahead of its time, designed to help people replicate the model that had made Harborside so successful. Owned by the operators of some of the most successful dispensaries in California, including Harborside, Peace in Medicine, and SPARC, I had an opportunity to learn the ins and outs of dispensary operations from the best in the business.
While CannBe ultimately succumbed to the same fate as most startups, it set the stage for what we have built today at 4Front. In fact, much of the operations-oriented protocols that we use today were originally started at CannBe.
It was these first few years at CannBe and 4Front that helped me truly appreciate the skills needed to run a successful business, something that even four years as executive director of a national nonprofit had not prepared me for. At the time, there were very few professionals in the cannabis industry who had successful careers in other businesses. The consulting firms at the time were largely made up of cannabis industry veterans (a term used loosely, as the industry itself was only a few years old), most of whom had either made the switch from the illicit market, or like myself, had come from activist work. At 4Front, we vowed to do things differently.
From the beginning, we have strived to recruit top-notch talent from across the business world. I realized early on that if we were to be successful in helping our clients open highly professional businesses, we needed to bring in staff that had done this kind of work successfully elsewhere. Being fortunate enough to have the backing of investors who shared this vision, we were one of the first companies to be able to afford to attract such top-notch talent. This included team members like Melanie McGraw, who developed all operating protocols for the likes of Einstein Brothers Bagels, Old Navy, and Disney Stores; Nicholas Russo, an eleven year veteran of Starwoods Hotels who led implementation of high end brands like Westin, Sheraton, and W; Don Schaefer, a former training general manager for Hillstone Restaurant Group and lead operator of the highly successful expansion of the restaurant concept, Sweetgreen; and Andrew Thut, a career financial investor who spent most of his career as manager of mutual funds at BlackRock. Melanie and Nicholas have since moved on, but they’ve left a lasting imprint on 4Front and how it operates.
Some may see this as a departure from my advocacy roots. In fact, some in the reform movement still consider those of us who have made the transition to industry to be sell outs, enabling business people to profit off of the many years of hard work endured by activists for little to no pay. But I take a different view.
It is true that many of the new businesspeople in the cannabis industry never outwardly supported reform in the past. But the fact is that this new industry has allowed us to attract more people to support reform than ever before. Once people enter the cannabis industry, they must support broad reform goals, whether out of altruism or to protect their bottom lines. Ending cannabis prohibition means opening new markets and reducing business roadblocks, aligning the interests of activists and entrepreneurs.
I’ve witnessed firsthand as many new businesspeople enter the market with nothing more than money as motivation, only to quickly buy in fully to reform goals and become financial and vocal supporters of ending prohibition. Many have become some of the largest donors to organizations like Students for Sensible Drug Policy, the Marijuana Policy Project, the Drug Policy Alliance, and Americans for Safe Access. Ten years ago these organizations had to rely on a small handful of multi-millionaires to fund their operations. Today the donor pool is far wider thanks to the new cannabis industry.
It is true, however, that many cannabis entrepreneurs can do more to support reform goals that allowed this industry to develop in the first place. It is no coincidence that some of the most prominent cannabis businesses are ones that include, or are led by, cannabis movement veterans like Brian Vicente of Vicente Sederberg and Troy Dayton of the ArcView Group. It is why at 4Front, while we have placed a premium on recruiting high-level talent from outside the cannabis world, our staff includes a large number of SSDP and movement alumni, including myself, Shaleen Title, Alison Park, and Sam Tracy.
My friend and fellow original SSDPer Troy Dayton of the ArcView Group likes to say that we have an opportunity to not only build a new industry, but a new kind of industry. The fact that so many prominent reform movement veterans now populate companies like 4Front allows us to incorporate our ideals into the businesses that we grow. With this industry still federally illegal, we have an opportunity to build these businesses organically, state by state, without competition and threats from the more established moguls of the alcohol, tobacco, or pharmaceutical industries. When they inevitably enter the fray, we will hopefully have built successful businesses that set the stage for this industry, which value social justice, cognitive liberty, and the health of our patients and consumers.
And few other industries will have a well-established reform movement operating as business’ conscience, and holding them accountable for their actions. Case in point: When O.penVAPE, a leading vape pen manufacturer, established a random drug testing policy for non-cannabis drugs that could have been culled from nearly any Fortune 500 company, it was movement veterans like Marijuana Majority’s Tom Angell, the Drug Policy Alliance’s Amanda Reiman, and NORML’s Paul Armentano who publicly and privately pressured O.penVAPE to revise its policy. Because of the actions of these well-respected activists, O.penVAPE turned a potential PR disaster into a new workplace impairment policy that can serve as a model not only for the cannabis industry, but corporate America at large.
I never set out to be a marijuana entrepreneur… but today I embrace the moniker. I’m proud of the role I am playing in building a new industry. One that can serve as a guiding light for future industries to come, and one that plays a critical role in defeating prohibition once and for all.
