Smokescreens and Citations: How MAPS Burned Veterans to Get Federal Weed Money
“The war is over, the battle is not.”
—Veteran cannabis advocate
The cannabis research industry has a veteran problem.
For over a decade, veterans were paraded as poster children for psychedelic science and federal cannabis studies—our trauma repackaged for PowerPoint slides and fundraising decks. We lent our pain and our uniforms to an industry that promised healing but delivered red tape, gaslighting, and exploitation.
At the center of this betrayal is MAPS (Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies), a once-revolutionary nonprofit that used our stories to convince Congress, donors, and the public that cannabis could be a lifeline. In reality, we were a means to an end: leverage for millions in funding, political access, and regulatory clout.
We now know what that “end” was—rigged conclusions and a whitewashed research record that threw veterans under the bus.
The Setup: Bad Science and Good Optics
MAPS’ flagship cannabis PTSD study, headed by Dr. Sue Sisley, was hyped as the first randomized controlled trial using whole-plant cannabis for treatment-resistant PTSD in veterans. It was greenlit after years of struggle, public advocacy, and direct political pressure—most of it generated by veterans ourselves.
What we didn’t know then was that the study would be stacked with flaws from the start. Veterans like myself, and others raised red flags early. We saw the bait-and-switch in real time: government-grown cannabis that looked like mulch, placebo batches passed off as therapeutic, and researchers more concerned with tenure than truth.
Dr. Marcel Bonn-Miller, a former VA researcher known for publishing negative conclusions about cannabis and PTSD, was quietly installed in a supervisory role. He had previously dismissed Dr. Rick Doblin’s predecessor studies as “not rigorous enough” and openly questioned the legitimacy of positive veteran reports. Yet he was tasked with evaluating our outcomes.
Internal complaints were ignored. Veterans were sidelined. And when the final data came out, it mirrored Bonn-Miller’s worldview more than any of ours. The conclusion? Cannabis showed “no significant benefit” over placebo.
Smokescreen deployed. Citation secured.
Follow the Citations, Follow the Money
That single rigged study became the keystone in a broader effort to keep cannabis in the academic research ghetto. The negative results were cited by the Department of Veterans Affairs and anti-reform policymakers as justification to block federal cannabis access for veterans. The study still appears in literature reviews meant to justify restrictive scheduling and criminalization.
But here’s what the citations never include:
The testimonies of veterans whose symptoms improved in spite of the bad batches;
The original calls for research by veterans' groups, who were later cut out;
The internal conflicts of interest among MAPS researchers and collaborators;
The warnings about data manipulation, political pressure, and faulty study design.
The citations don’t include us. They never did.
Controlled Opposition in a Lab Coat
We thought MAPS was an ally. Many of us shared our deepest traumas in hopes of changing the system. Instead, we became unwitting participants in a research pipeline designed to delay access, discredit patient testimony, and reinforce gatekeeping.
Dr. Sue Sisley, once a hero of the cannabis movement, now stands as a case study in institutional capture. Her complaints about salary disputes, infighting, and regulatory hurdles masked a deeper betrayal—she knew what was happening but played along to stay inside the game.
This is not an isolated story. It is part of a broader pattern where veterans are used as political capital by researchers and nonprofits chasing federal legitimacy and funding.
MAPS got their foot in the door. Veterans were the welcome mat.
We Told You So: The Receipts Were There
As early as 2015, veterans were blowing the whistle. We knew MAPS was playing both sides—wooing Congress with our stories while quietly aligning with federal agencies to produce “safe,” non-controversial findings. Those of us who spoke out were cast aside, called unstable, or simply ignored.
Emails to Bonn-Miller and Doblin went unanswered. Sue’s allies at Arizona universities scrubbed support letters from the record. Veterans who once helped write protocols were ghosted or labeled liabilities.
But the paper trail exists. The Change.org petitions. The American Legion’s letters. The op-eds, interviews, Congressional briefings. The people who now stand before you with garden soil under our nails and PTSD still pulsing in our chests—we’ve been warning you.
They weaponized our pain for prestige. Then discarded us when the cameras left.
Reparations, Not Recognition
We don’t want plaques. We want accountability.
MAPS, Sisley, and their funders owe veterans more than an apology—they owe us reparations. Release the original data sets. Publish the internal communications. Acknowledge the conflicts of interest. Stop using our names and trauma to fund a movement that no longer serves us.
This is not just about one study. It’s about decades of gatekeeping, controlled access, and performative allyship.
No more smokescreens. No more citations without context.
We are the evidence.
About the Author
Ricardo Pereyda is a U.S. Army combat veteran, civic agitator, and policy dissident with a focus on cannabis reform, veteran healthcare, and government accountability. He served in Baghdad with the Military Police Corps and returned home to challenge the institutions that failed his generation—armed with receipts, lived experience, and a deep knowledge of American hypocrisy. Ricardo is a Flinn-Brown Fellow, a founding member of the International Veterans Leadership Committee, and principal author of The Green Paper on federal cannabis policy. He is currently cultivating truth, garden beds, and the slow burn of poetic resistance in Tucson, Arizona.
