DEA Rescheduling Stalls as Judge Retires, Cole Takes Over

If you’ve been watching federal marijuana policy like it’s a season finale with a suspiciously long “previously on…”
montage, you’re not imagining things. The DEA’s high-profile effort to reschedule marijuana has hit another speed bump:
the presiding administrative law judge announced his retirementeffective immediately leaving the agency without an
administrative law judge to run the formal hearing processwhile a newly installed DEA leader, Terrance C. “Terry” Cole,
inherits a case that’s already parked in procedural limbo.

This moment matters because “rescheduling” is the federal government’s most serious (and most legally structured)
attempt in decades to change marijuana’s status under the Controlled Substances Act without Congress passing a sweeping
legalization bill. But it also matters because the rescheduling process is not a social media poll. It’s a formal, on-the-record
rulemaking that has to follow strict administrative procedures. Translation: the paperwork has a paperwork manager, and
that manager just clocked out.

What “DEA rescheduling” actually means (and what it doesn’t)

“Rescheduling” is a reclassification under the Controlled Substances Act (CSA). Right now, marijuana is listed in Schedule I,
a category reserved for substances the federal government treats as having no currently accepted medical use and a high
potential for abuse. The DOJ/DEA proposal would move marijuana to Schedule III.

Schedule III is still controlledjust less severely than Schedule I. It’s generally associated with substances considered to have
accepted medical use under federal law and a lower abuse and dependence profile than Schedules I and II. Don’t confuse
that with “federally legal weed.” Schedule III is not a green light for recreational sales. It’s more like the federal government
saying, “We’re changing the rulebook,” not “We’re canceling the game.”

The biggest practical takeaway: even if marijuana moved to Schedule III, federal controls would remain, including criminal
prohibitions for unauthorized manufacturing, distribution, dispensing, and possession under the CSA. And FDA law would
still matter: medical use under federal law generally runs through FDA approval and prescription frameworks, not state ballot
initiatives and dispensary menus.

A quick timeline: how we got to a stalled hearing

The rescheduling story didn’t begin with one press conference. It’s been a multi-agency relay race, and the baton has been
dropped enough times to qualify as a recurring gag.

• 2022: The White House directs a review of marijuana’s federal scheduling status, prompting renewed interagency analysis.
• 2023: Health and Human Services (HHS) completes its scientific and medical review and recommends moving marijuana to Schedule III.
• May 2024: DOJ/DEA publishes a proposed rule to transfer marijuana from Schedule I to Schedule III, kicking off formal rulemaking steps.
• Late 2024: DEA issues a notice of hearing and begins the “on the record” hearing track; a preliminary hearing is held in early December.
• Early 2025: The merits hearing schedule is setthen the case is stayed while an interlocutory appeal sits with the DEA Administrator.
• July 2025: The presiding DEA administrative law judge announces retirement, stating the agency will have no ALJ, and files will be forwarded to the Administrator.

That’s the key tension: the process is supposed to be methodical, but the cast keeps changing mid-scene. In regulatory
terms, that can mean delays. In human terms, it means everyone is refreshing their inbox like it’s 1999 and dial-up just made
the connection noise.

Why the proceedings stalled before the retirement announcement

To understand why the judge’s retirement matters, you have to understand what the hearing was doing in the first place.
The DEA’s rescheduling action is a “formal rulemaking” under the CSAone that includes an opportunity for a hearing, with
evidence and expert testimony.

During the run-up to the scheduled merits hearings, the proceeding attracted heavy motion practice from “designated participants.”
Some participants argued that the process had been compromised by alleged improper communications (often referred to as
ex parte contacts) involving the government and certain outside groups or witnesses. Those arguments led to rulings, requests
for reconsideration, andcruciallyan interlocutory appeal.

“Interlocutory” is lawyer-speak for “we’re appealing this issue now, before the whole case is finished.” In many court settings,
that’s unusual. In administrative proceedings, it can happen when a disputed procedural decision is claimed to cause serious
prejudice if not addressed immediately. The catch is that interlocutory appeals can freeze forward progress.

The result: by mid-2025, the rescheduling hearing was already stuck in a stay posture pending resolution of that appeal. So
even before the retirement, the process was less “rolling deadline” and more “waiting room with outdated magazines.”

The retirement shock: when the referee leaves and the league has no backup

The presiding administrative law judge (ALJ) did not simply announce a vacation. He stated that effective August 1, 2025, he
would be retired from the benchand that his retirement would leave the DEA with no administrative law judge to hear the
rescheduling matter or other pending administrative enforcement cases.

That’s a big deal because ALJs aren’t optional accessories in these kinds of proceedings. Under the CSA and the Administrative
Procedure Act (APA), certain DEA administrative hearings must be conducted with an ALJ presiding. If there is no ALJ, you
don’t just “move it to Zoom.” You have a structural problem.

The retirement notice also stated that, until circumstances change, filings in the rescheduling case would be forwarded to the
DEA Administrator for whatever action, if any, he deems appropriate. In plain English: the hearing track can’t run as designed,
so the Administrator becomes the place where the procedural buck stops.

Cole takes over: what changes when a new DEA Administrator inherits the file

The “Cole” in this headline is Terrance C. “Terry” Cole, who was sworn in as DEA Administrator in July 2025 after Senate
confirmation. That means the rescheduling saga now sits, at least temporarily, on the desk of a new agency leader at the exact
moment the case is missing its hearing judge.

It’s tempting to assume this will instantly speed things up or slam the brakes. Reality is more complicated. A DEA Administrator
can influence priorities, staffing, and legal strategy, but a formal rescheduling action is still constrained by statute, regulation,
and the record. This isn’t a “CEO memo fixes it” situation. It’s more like: the new Administrator has to pick up a puzzle where
half the pieces are legal requirements and the other half are procedural chess moves.

What Cole can do next (in theory)

Without pretending to read anyone’s mind, there are a few practical paths that typically exist in administrative proceedings:

• Resolve the pending interlocutory appeal: If an appeal is sitting with the Administrator, resolving it could lift the stay
  and allow proceedings to move againassuming the ALJ issue is addressed.
• Address the ALJ gap: The agency (or the broader DOJ apparatus) may need to appoint, detail, or otherwise secure an ALJ
  so the hearing can proceed in compliance with the CSA/APA.
• Re-evaluate the hearing posture: If the agency concludes the hearing cannot proceed as structured, it may consider alternative
  procedural routesthough any alternative still has to satisfy the “on the record” requirements that apply.
• Maintain the status quo: The least exciting option is also the most common in government: keep the case in a holding pattern while
  legal and staffing issues are worked out.

The key point is not that a new Administrator automatically means a new outcome. The key point is that leadership turnover
plus a missing ALJ creates a bottleneck even if everyone agrees on the destination. It’s hard to run the hearing when the person
who runs the hearing no longer exists in the org chart.

Why Schedule III is so significant for industryand why it’s not a cure-all

You can measure the importance of Schedule III by how fast accountants stop smiling when you say “280E.” Section 280E of
the Internal Revenue Code limits business deductions for companies trafficking in Schedule I or Schedule II substances. If marijuana
moved to Schedule III, many observers expect major tax implications for state-legal cannabis businesses that have been stuck
paying effective tax rates that look like a mistake… until you realize they were built on purpose.

But rescheduling is not a magic wand for all federal cannabis headaches. Even in Schedule III, marijuana would remain a controlled
substance. Federal criminal prohibitions wouldn’t vanish. Banking compliance, interstate commerce barriers, FDA issues, and conflicts
between state markets and federal law would still exist. Rescheduling can change the temperature in the room, but it doesn’t remodel
the building.

Concrete examples of what could change

• Research access and approvals: Schedule III status could reduce certain research hurdles compared with Schedule I, potentially making
  studies more practical for universities and medical centers.
• Tax pressure: If 280E stops applying, operators could potentially deduct ordinary business expenseschanging profitability, pricing strategy,
  and investment models.
• Medical framework clarity: The more federal policy aligns with the concept of “accepted medical use,” the more likely you’ll see increased
  pressure for standardized products, labeling, dosing research, and FDA-style compliance.

Concrete examples of what would not change overnight

• Federal legalization of recreational cannabis: Schedule III is still a controlled substance category, not legalization.
• FDA approval requirements: A state-issued medical card is not the same as an FDA-approved drug and a prescription under federal law.
• Interstate cannabis commerce: Rescheduling does not automatically create a legal, national supply chain for flower and edibles.

Who’s affected by the delay: five groups living in the “in-between”

1) Patients and clinicians

Patients hear “Schedule III” and assume it means doctors can prescribe dispensary products like any other medication. Clinicians
know it’s not that simple. Federal medical use typically runs through FDA-approved products. The gap between what patients want
and what federal law permits is where confusion thrives.

2) Researchers

Researchers care about definitions, supply access, and approvals. A less restrictive schedule can matterespecially for institutions
wary of Schedule I compliance burdens. But research doesn’t just require permission; it requires product consistency, funding, and time.

3) Cannabis operators and investors

Operators have been building businesses under state law while managing federal risk. Rescheduling could change tax math and long-term
planning. The stall, however, keeps companies in a budgeting purgatory: not fully pricing in reform, but not ignoring it either.

4) Public health and safety stakeholders

Opponents and skeptics worry about youth access, impaired driving, workplace safety, and the possibility that rescheduling is being used
as a political shortcut. Supporters argue rescheduling better matches scientific evidence and reduces harms created by overly punitive policy.

5) Regulators and employers

Employers and transportation safety agencies operate under federal testing and safety regimes. Rescheduling raises questions about how workplace
rules, testing policies, and safety-sensitive positions should be managedespecially when state laws and federal rules don’t speak the same language.

What to watch next: signals that the process is moving again

If you’re trying to gauge whether the rescheduling process is thawing, watch for “boring” signals. In administrative law, boring is beautiful.
Boring means something is actually happening.

• Action on the interlocutory appeal: A decision that resolves the procedural dispute could unlock the next steps.
• Appointment or designation of an ALJ: Without a presiding ALJ, the hearing structure described for the case can’t operate as intended.
• Updated hearing schedules or procedural orders: If the case moves from “stayed” to “scheduled,” that’s real progress.
• Federal Register movement: Formal notices, timelines, or final rules (if any) are typically reflected in official publication steps.

One more reality check: even if the hearing restarts, rescheduling still has to survive the rest of the processrecommended findings,
administrative decision-making, and the near-certainty of litigation from whichever side dislikes the outcome. In other words, the stall is a chapter,
not the whole book.

Conclusion: a stalled process with real-world consequences

The rescheduling proposal is one of the most consequential federal marijuana policy moves in modern history. But it’s also a reminder that
administrative law is a machine built to move carefully, not quickly. When the judge retires and the agency has no ALJ, the machine doesn’t
just slow downit loses a key gear.

With Terrance Cole now leading the DEA, the agency faces a practical question: how do you finish an “on the record” rulemaking when the record-building
hearing track is stalled and the person authorized to run it is gone? The next steps will likely be less about dramatic announcements and more about
procedural fixesdecisions, designations, and schedules. Which sounds dull… right up until you remember billions of dollars, patient access debates, and
federal criminal law all hang on the outcome.

Real-world experiences in the rescheduling holding pattern

When headlines say “rescheduling stalls,” it can sound abstractlike a legal drama happening far away in a government building with fluorescent lighting
and a suspicious number of binders. But the stall has a very tangible ripple effect, and you can see it in the day-to-day choices people make while waiting
for the federal ground to shift. Here are common experiences people in the cannabis ecosystem describe (shared here as composite scenarios, not as personal
anecdotes from any single individual).

The dispensary operator who plans two budgets at once

A state-licensed operator might be running a profitable store on paperuntil federal tax rules are applied. Under current conditions, many businesses behave
like they’re budgeting in a storm: they keep cash reserves larger than they want, delay hiring, and postpone renovations because tax uncertainty is the world’s
least fun roller coaster. When rescheduling seems “close,” optimism creeps into planning meetings. Then a procedural stall hits, and the operator quietly returns
to the conservative budget version labeled “Plan B (Again).”

The CPA who turns into a part-time therapist every April

Accountants serving cannabis clients often spend tax season explaining why a business that looks successful still feels squeezed. The rescheduling conversation
becomes a recurring client question: “Should we assume 280E goes away?” The honest answer is usually some variation of: “We can model it, but we can’t bank on it.”
So they build spreadsheets with multiple scenarios and stress-test cash flow the way other industries stress-test supply chains. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps
businesses alive.

The researcher who can’t study what people actually use

Researchers interested in therapeutic potential frequently bump into the same wall: study design requires consistent products, lawful access, and approvals that
don’t feel designed for a fast-changing marketplace. Even when Schedule III seems like it might lower barriers, the stall means the researcher keeps writing grants
with cautious language and timelines that assume delays. The weirdest part? Public interest is high, but the path to rigorous answers can be slowexactly the opposite
of how information spreads online.

The HR manager rewriting policy… and then rewriting it again

Employers in states with legal cannabis often live with a policy mismatch. Employees ask: “If it’s legal here, why can I still get disciplined?” HR teams have to juggle
safety-sensitive rules, federal contracting requirements, and state protections. Rescheduling rumors trigger policy review sessions. A stall triggers a sigh and a reminder
that “nothing has changed yet.” Over time, companies become more intentional about impairment policies and less focused on moral judgmentsbecause the practical question
is always safety and liability, not ideology.

The patient who hears “Schedule III” and expects a pharmacy solution

Patientsespecially those managing chronic pain, nausea, or sleep disruptionoften want a clean, predictable medical framework. They hear “accepted medical use” language
and imagine standardized dosing, insurance coverage, and doctor-guided titration like any other medication. Then reality reappears: federal medical pathways typically
run through FDA approvals, and state-legal products aren’t automatically “prescribable” under federal law. The stall keeps patients in a confusing middle zone where
access exists, but the rules around guidance, consistency, and research-backed dosing still feel fragmented.

Across all these experiences, one theme repeats: uncertainty is expensive. It costs time, planning bandwidth, and sometimes opportunities. Whether rescheduling ultimately
happens or not, the current stall shows why process details matter. In regulated industries, “who is authorized to run the hearing” is not triviait can determine how
quickly real-world systems can adapt.