Engaging with people who use and grow cannabis informs more effective policy reform

Published on the 04 March 2026

Records of cannabis cultivation for medicinal, spiritual and social uses date as far back as 2800BC. Photo: Supplied.

Exploring experiences of growing cannabis helps unpack socio-cultural assumptions that impact policymaking.

Research from the UNSW Social Policy Research Centre (SPRC) into cannabis plant/grower relationships in the ACT reveals a disconnect between policy and practice.

Legalising homegrown cannabis offers an alternative to the hazards of commercialisation, says research co-lead Liz Barrett from SPRC’s Drug Policy Modelling Program (DPMP).

“Research participants detailed significant benefits, including the ease of self-supply as well as the ability to avoid ‘dodgy’ dealers and plant growth hormones and pesticides,” the expert in policy development, analysis and translation says.

“But they also talked of the joy, satisfaction and experimentation involved in cultivating their own crop, of supporting a movement, and a love of gardening and engaging with what some described as the charm of the plant.”

Participants’ patterns, care practices and experiences of cultivation challenge the ways cannabis is understood and expressed in current legislation, Ms Barrett says.

“For example, criminalising growing interventions, such as indoor cultivation, is at odds with some contemporary practices.

“Understanding cannabis as a plant – and not just as a drug – as well as examining the care practices involved in its domestic cultivation can inform the design of more coherent legislation.”

The study explored the experiences of 10 people who use and grow cannabis; it used photo elicitation methods to draw out storied, creative and emotional responses.

The research followed a 2021 qualitative study, constituting 30 semi-structured interviews, to better understand how practices of cannabis use and cultivation may have changed since the Drugs of Dependence (Personal Cannabis Use) Amendment Bill 2018 came into effect on 31 January 2020.

The legislation permits possession of up to 50 grams of dried cannabis and up to 150 grams of wet or freshly harvested cannabis, and the growing of up to two plants per person to a maximum of four per household.

“We were interested to understand how cannabis was constituted by policy makers; how the new regulation was being experienced and navigated by people; and what lessons they might have for contemporary drug policy processes.”

The multidisciplinary team drew on expertise in policy, science and technology studies, geography, environmental humanities and anthropology: Scientia Professor Alison Ritter, Professor Matthew Kearnes, Dr Richard Mellor and Ms Barrett, UNSW; Dr Laura McLauchlin, University of Technology (UTS); and Professor Kari Lancaster, University of Bath.

The studies are part of a larger project concerned with the role of participation in designing effective illicit drug policy solutions.

Unpacking limiting socio-cultural assumptions around cannabis

Our understanding of cannabis is deeply embedded within material, social, cultural, political and historical contexts, Ms Barrett says.

“Cannabis has been named, made and remade throughout history and within legislation in particular ways. For example, in the US, purposively using the term ‘marijuana’ to tie the plant and its use to Mexican immigration and related racist and sensational tales of drug-fuelled violence.

“This affects how it – and other drug objects – are interpreted in policy and practice, for example, in discussions around criminalisation and regulation.”

There are records of cannabis cultivation across ancient Hindu, Assyrian, Greek and Roman texts for a range of spiritual and social uses, she says. “Documentation dates back to 2800BC with Emperor Shen Nung's pharmacopoeia [considered the earliest Chinese text on herbal medicine],” she says.

“However, in the last 100 years, particularly in the West, cannabis has been subject to strict legal prescription and cast as a dangerous psychoactive substance.”

If cannabis is only configured as a drug, rather than as a plant or a living being, it limits the scope of what is possible in terms of a policy response, she says. “Indeed, policy's own role in the assemblage of drug and drug objects was a driving concern of the research.”

The study explored how changes to the ACT Personal Cannabis Use legislation were experienced and navigated by home cultivators. Photo: Supplied.

The research considers the ‘plantiness’ of cannabis (its material and biological qualities), its more-than-human liveliness as well as the range of multispecies charismas (ecological, aesthetic and corporeal) that can affect and attune us to non-human species and modes of care. The study found that cannabis plants were more than just drug objects for growers.

“The care and relational motivations reported by participants, their engagements with what they in some cases described as a charming and rambunctious species are absent from policy discussions.”

Disconnections between policy and practice

Participants broadly reported that the 2020 change in legislation was positive; however, regulation around the illegality of ‘artificial’ cultivation proved arbitrary, the research found.

Using hydroponics, growing plants without soil using mineral nutrient solutions, and using artificial UV light and heat sources is illegal under the new legislation.

“People’s interventions and growing practices were guided by environmental conditions, perceived plant needs, their gardening philosophies and access to space – not everyone had outdoor green space,” Ms Barrett says.

Canberra’s cold climate was a contributor, she says. “For example, one participant described how in very cold conditions, he moved his cannabis seedlings and plants as well as his tomato or capsicum plants to different areas indoors and/or under artificial light. This response to climatic conditions was only illegal for the cannabis plants.”

There were also social or relational considerations of growing, the research found. “The lingering stigma of cannabis constituted a potential threat to relationships. We heard lots of stories about people hiding their plants, and even one person throwing them over the balcony when certain people came to visit.”

Additionally, threshold quantities, such as plant numbers and personal use limits, were not always easy to manage for home growers, for example, in the case of an unexpectedly large harvest.

“In the gardening world, growing abundant healthy plants is encouraged, lauded even – think of the big pumpkin competition at the community fête – but with cannabis, this creates a problem due to the different way this plant is treated.

“While plants do what they need to do to thrive and survive – they are not aware of being regulated – if your harvest is larger than 150 grams, potentially you could be considered to be trafficking.”

Participants reported that in these circumstances they were unsure how to dispose of their surplus legally: did it go in the green bin, could they give it away? “This demonstrates some of the difficulties of trying to regulate the natural world.”

Access to seeds or seed banks was also reported as difficult to manage. Under the legislation, while personal use of cannabis and its cultivation is legal, possessing seeds is not. “This had the added impact of making access to knowledge about different varieties difficult to come by.”

Participants also expressed desire for greater community around growing, the research found. “Overseas there are communal models of growing that could be explored here.”

Storied accounts help unpack entanglements in plant/human relations

Photo elicitation helped produce storied accounts that spoke to the complex relations between grower and plant.

“How a being appears in policy is shaped by the way it is known and the kinds of stories that are told about it,” Ms Barrett says. “Visual storytelling through photo elicitation enabled the complexity of material entangled relationships to unfold, helping re-imagine our interactions with cannabis.”

Storytelling and other creative arts processes are being integrated into legislative processes, for instance in First Nations reparation and truth-telling processes in Australia and South Africa, she says.

“Stories are central to these processes; the power of stories is relied on to right historic wrongs, to give voice to people and to make governments accountable for atrocities and their impacts.”

These creative processes have a potential role in drug policy processes to help disrupt dominant narratives, particularly those built on ignorance or prejudice, says Ms Barrett.

“They can give voice to the voiceless, including the voices of multispecies subjects, such as cannabis, that are frequently absent from discourse due to the centring of human agency and values in Western democratic political traditions.”