Skip to main content

Tag: Texas Hemp Reporter magazine

Did DSHS Just Tell the Hemp Industry to Ignore Its Own Rules Until After the Election?

A motion for rehearing tells a strange story…..

 

There are moments in public policy when the mask slips.

According to a motion filed Sunday in the Fifteenth Court of Appeals, representatives of the Texas Department of State Health Services have allegedly been telling licensed hemp businesses not to worry about complying with some of the agency’s most controversial new hemp regulations because those provisions are not currently being enforced—and may not be enforced until after November.

Yes, November.

If true, the implications are staggering. Not merely because regulators would be quietly suspending enforcement of rules they spent months promulgating and defending in court, but because the explanation allegedly offered by agency personnel raises an even more troubling possibility: that politically inconvenient enforcement actions are being deferred until voters have cast their ballots.

The allegation appears in a Motion for Rehearing filed by the Texas Hemp Business Council and other plaintiffs challenging DSHS’s new hemp rules. The filing includes sworn affidavits from industry figures Lukas Gilkey and Kevin Salganik describing recorded conversations with a senior DSHS inspector. According to the motion, the inspector stated that DSHS legal staff and supervisors had instructed personnel not to enforce the agency’s new “total THC” standard and to revert licensing fees to their previous levels.

More remarkably, the inspector allegedly told one caller that “November” represented the likely timeline because “midterms and a lot of other stuff comes open.”

One need not be especially cynical to understand why such a statement might attract attention.

A Curious Change of Heart

Only weeks ago, Texas argued to the Court of Appeals that maintaining an injunction against the new rules would substantially harm the state by preventing DSHS from enforcing its revised regulatory framework. The state vigorously opposed temporary relief, insisting that the agency needed the ability to immediately implement its new total THC standard and dramatically increased licensing fees.

Yet, according to the newly filed motion, once the appellate court dissolved the injunction, DSHS personnel allegedly began telling industry participants the exact opposite.

“Don’t worry about total THC,” one inspector allegedly told a caller. “We’re not going to enforce anything with total THC.”

Another statement attributed to the same inspector is even more direct: “Something has changed. We’re not doing total.”

If these statements accurately reflect agency policy, the obvious question is simple: what changed?

Neither DSHS nor the Attorney General’s office has publicly announced any suspension of enforcement. No emergency guidance appears to have been issued. No formal rulemaking has been initiated. Instead, according to multiple industry participants, the agency has apparently been communicating this information privately, one telephone call at a time.

Regulation by whisper campaign is an unusual administrative model.
Government by Ambiguity

The immediate casualty of such an approach is legal certainty.

Texas hemp operators occupy one of the most heavily scrutinized and politically contentious regulatory environments in the state. Licenses, inventory, contracts, supply chains, laboratory testing, insurance coverage, and financing decisions all depend upon businesses understanding what the rules are and, equally important, whether those rules will actually be enforced.

At present, industry participants appear to be confronting an impossible dilemma.

Should they comply with the newly adopted total THC standard—potentially destroying existing inventories, disrupting supply chains, and imposing massive costs—or should they rely on verbal assurances from DSHS personnel that the rules are not presently being enforced?

Neither option is attractive.

Businesses that continue operating under preexisting standards risk future enforcement actions if the agency reverses course. Businesses that voluntarily comply with rules the agency itself is allegedly declining to enforce may simply put themselves out of business unnecessarily.

This is not regulatory oversight. It is regulatory roulette.

The Election Question

The most explosive aspect of the filing is, unsurprisingly, political.

The hemp plaintiffs suggest that DSHS’s alleged enforcement pause may reflect an effort to avoid public backlash before the November elections. The evidence offered for this proposition is limited principally to the inspector’s reported comments regarding “November,” elections, and future enforcement.

Whether a court ultimately finds such allegations persuasive is another matter entirely. Judges are generally reluctant to infer political motives absent substantial evidence, and state officials would undoubtedly deny that electoral considerations play any role in enforcement decisions.

Nevertheless, the allegation itself highlights an uncomfortable reality facing Texas policymakers.

For the last two legislative sessions, elected officials have repeatedly portrayed the hemp industry as an urgent public health threat requiring immediate and aggressive intervention. If that characterization is accurate, delaying enforcement until after an election would be difficult to justify. Legitimate public dangers, after all, do not customarily observe campaign calendars.

Conversely, if the agency truly believes enforcement can safely wait until November—or beyond—it inevitably raises questions regarding the urgency and necessity of the regulations in the first place.

Those are questions legislators and regulators may eventually have to answer.

The Larger Problem

Whatever happens in the litigation, the episode illustrates a deeper pathology in Texas cannabis policy.

The state has spent years attempting to maintain an increasingly implausible distinction between a tightly controlled medical marijuana program serving a relatively small patient population and a broadly accessible hemp marketplace that millions of Texans have embraced.

The resulting contradictions have produced exactly what one would expect: lawsuits, inconsistent enforcement, market instability, and administrative confusion.

Businesses are left attempting to divine regulatory intent from hallway conversations and telephone calls. Agencies are forced to reconcile statutory language with political demands. Consumers are left uncertain about which products are lawful today and which may become contraband tomorrow.

No industry—least of all one employing tens of thousands of Texans—can operate indefinitely under those conditions. Which perhaps is the point.

If the allegations contained in the hemp plaintiffs’ latest filing are accurate, the state’s regulators may have inadvertently demonstrated precisely why the Court of Appeals should restore the injunction pending appeal: because when the agency itself cannot clearly articulate what rules are in force, regulated parties cannot reasonably be expected to comply with them.

The law is supposed to provide notice.

It is not supposed to require a phone tree.

Texas Hemp: True Economic Numbers

“Who are you going to believe, me or your own lying eyes?” — Groucho Marx, noted comedian and cigar enthusiast

This week’s release of the Whitney Economics study on the Texas Hemp Industry should have been an eye-opener—at least for anyone willing to acknowledge reality. The more I review the numbers and rhetorics surrounding SB 3, the clearer it becomes that this isn’t about responsible regulation—it’s a deliberate effort to mislead the public and lawmakers while dismantling a thriving industry.

It would be almost laughable if it weren’t so blatant. On one hand, Sen. Perry ignores a vast body of evidence, from thousands of constituent testimonials to gold-standard, peer-reviewed studies demonstrating the safe and effective health benefits of cannabinoids. Instead, he insists that hemp retailers are preying on Texas children, addicting them, and causing untold harm to millions.

At the same time, the Comptroller of Public Accounts’ fiscal note—the official economic impact analysis provided to the legislature—downplays the industry’s contribution to the state, suggesting that Texas hemp businesses generate only $10 million per year in tax revenue. The reality? It’s at least TWENTY TIMES that amount.

So which is it? Is the Texas hemp industry so big, fearsome, and dangerous that it must be slashed down to size? Or is it so small and insignificant that lawmakers can vote to ban its products without fear of economic repercussions in their districts? They can’t have it both ways.

What’s happening here is not policymaking—it’s prohibition masquerading as regulation, built on fearmongering and bad math.

 

Flawed Fiscal Note: Bad Data, Worse Assumptions

The fiscal note attached to SB 3 is deeply flawed, significantly underestimating the economic impact of the Texas hemp industry. The Comptroller’s office arrived at its revenue projections based on an indefensible assumption: that a small sample of hemp retailers in Austin accounts for 25% of all sales statewide.

There is no data to support this claim, yet this flawed assumption forms the foundation of the state’s economic analysis of SB 3.

By contrast, Whitney Economics conducted a comprehensive, data-driven study of the industry and found:

• The Texas hemp-derived cannabinoid industry generates $5.5 billion annually.

• It employs more than 53,300 Texans, with $2.1 billion in wages.

• It contributes $267.7 million annually in state sales tax revenue.

• The retail sector alone produces $4.3 billion in sales, with manufacturing and wholesale adding another $1.26 billion.

 

Instead of considering this robust statewide industry, the Comptroller’s analysis relied on tax returns from a handful of vape shops in Austin, assumed those stores represented one-quarter of the entire state’s market, and extrapolated from there.

This is not a credible methodology. It grossly understates the economic fallout that SB 3 will cause.

 

The True Cost of SB 3

The fiscal note estimates only a $27 million loss in state revenue over two years. But it ignores the full economic impact of dismantling an industry of this scale.

According to Whitney Economics, the actual consequences would be far greater:

• $3.1 billion in lost retail sales

• $194.9 million in lost tax revenue

• 40,201 jobs eliminated

• $1.59 billion in lost wages

• $7.5 billion in total economic losses

This bill won’t just hurt individual business owners—it will have far-reaching economic consequences for:

• Commercial real estate (as retailers shut down storefronts across Texas).

• Supply chains (manufacturers, wholesalers, and logistics providers will be impacted).

• Local economies (thousands of Texans will lose their jobs and spending power).

The fiscal note, by narrowly focusing on direct sales tax revenue, fails to account for these larger disruptions.

 

Misinformation and Fear Tactics

Beyond the faulty fiscal analysis, SB 3’s backers are relying on scare tactics and misleading testimony to push the bill forward.

When veterans, chronic pain sufferers, epilepsy patients, and other Texans testify about the life-changing benefits of hemp-derived cannabinoids, proponents of the bill deflect by cherry-picking isolated incidents and misrepresenting their significance.

At the Senate State Affairs Committee hearing, I saw this firsthand. A witness gave an emotional testimony about a family member’s death, strongly implying that cannabis was to blame. But when the microphones were off, another witness calmly asked what actually happened.

 

Her response? “It was drugs, OK?”

This kind of vague, unverified testimony is being weaponized to justify dismantling a legitimate industry. Sen. Perry then seized on this uncorroborated story, using it as justification to attack law-abiding business owners.

 

This isn’t policymaking—it’s prohibition by way of fearmongering.

 

The Bottom Line

SB 3 is not about protecting the public—it’s about eliminating a $5.5 billion industry under the guise of regulation. The fiscal note is built on faulty assumptions, and the narrative supporting this bill is driven more by a political agenda than by facts.