The Northest 420 journal

That’s where Northeast 420 Journal comes in.

This journal exists because cannabis deserves to be taken seriously without being sanitized, commercialized, or reduced to a brand identity. It deserves journalism that understands its cultural roots, its medical potential, its environmental impact, and its role in shaping real communities—not just markets.

I’ve spent enough time around this industry to know that loud voices aren’t always the most informed ones. I’ve also seen how often the people doing the most careful, meaningful work—especially in research, land stewardship, and long-term infrastructure—are drowned out by hype cycles and surface-level narratives.

This journal is not here to chase those cycles.

We’re here to slow the conversation down.

Northeast 420 Journal is rooted in the idea that cannabis is infrastructure. How it’s grown affects land. How it’s studied affects medicine. How it’s regulated affects justice. How it’s marketed affects culture. None of those things should be treated lightly, and none of them exist in isolation.

Being based in the Northeast matters. This region has older cities, denser populations, colder climates, tighter regulations, and deeper institutional memory than many newer cannabis markets. The challenges here are complex—and that complexity deserves coverage that doesn’t flatten it for clicks.

But this isn’t a regional bubble. What happens in the Northeast often becomes a model, a warning, or a case study for everywhere else. Our lens is local, but our thinking is not small.

You won’t find listicles here. You won’t find disguised advertisements. You won’t find recycled press releases or optimism without accountability. If a story feels safe, obvious, or convenient, it probably doesn’t belong.

What you will find are pieces that ask uncomfortable questions:
Why is cannabis research still so fragmented?
Who benefits from legalization as it currently exists—and who doesn’t?
What does sustainability actually mean when energy use, land access, and scale are factored in?
What knowledge are we losing as legacy systems are erased?
And what responsibility comes with finally being taken seriously?

We don’t pretend to have all the answers. In fact, one of the guiding principles of this journal is being honest about uncertainty. Good research starts there. Good journalism should too.

This is not an anti-business space. It’s an anti-bullshit one.

We believe cannabis can be economically viable and ethically grounded. We believe research and culture should inform each other, not compete. We believe that long-term thinking matters more than quarterly wins. And we believe that if cannabis is going to be part of the future of medicine, land use, and public health, then the conversation around it needs to grow up.

Northeast 420 Journal is being built as an archive, not a feed. Every piece published here should earn its place—not just today, but years from now. This is writing meant to be referenced, challenged, and returned to.

If you’re a reader, I hope this journal gives you language for things you’ve felt but haven’t seen articulated clearly.
If you’re a contributor, I hope it challenges you to bring your sharpest thinking, not your safest take.
And if you’re part of the cannabis industry in any form, I hope it reminds you that this plant deserves more than convenience narratives and surface-level success stories.

I didn’t start this journal because the cannabis world needed more content.

I started it because it needs more care.

Christopher Allison— Founding Editor 
Northeast 420 Journal