Feds Should Consider ‘Relaxing’ Marijuana Drug Testing Rules For Transportation Workers, Congresswoman Says
Federal marijuana drug testing rules are colliding with the reality of a modern workforce, and you can hear the gears grinding from the deck of a Washington State ferry. Rep. Emily Randall wants the government to recognize the obvious: off-duty cannabis use in a legal state isn’t the same as showing up high to pilot a boat. It’s a simple distinction that gets lost in zero-tolerance policy. Ferries need people in the wheelhouse. Workers need rules that distinguish Saturday from Monday. Right now, urine tests don’t care. They turn leisure into liability, sidelining operators for weeks after a legal puff. In a tight labor market, that’s a policy choice with real-world consequences for commuters, crews, and the shaky backbone of public transit.
Policy says “wait,” workforce says “we can’t”
The Department of Transportation has been crystal clear: until the attorney general finalizes any rescheduling, nothing changes. Schedule I today, Schedule III tomorrow—DOT’s testing program calls out marijuana by name for safety-sensitive positions. Former leadership has already said that a classification shuffle alone won’t flip the drug-testing switch. This isn’t a bureaucratic quirk; it’s rooted in the 1991 Omnibus Transportation Employee Testing Act, which gives the secretary broad authority to test for substances deemed risky to transportation safety. Translation: even if the federal Controlled Substances Act re-labels cannabis, the practical rules for pilots, engineers, truckers, deckhands, and operators could remain stubbornly the same unless DOT chooses otherwise. Randall, co-chair of the Congressional Ferry Caucus, put it bluntly at a House Transportation and Infrastructure “member day” hearing: consider a sensible window for off-duty, legal use—so long as no one’s using on the job or close to it. That’s not permissiveness. That’s workforce triage.
Watch the hearing context and the conversation sounds less like culture war and more like operations management. The question isn’t whether impairment on duty is acceptable—it isn’t. The question is whether we’re testing for impairment, or for evidence that someone has a life off the clock. These are not the same things.
The messy science of impairment
Here’s where it gets gritty. With alcohol, blood levels map neatly onto impairment and crash risk. With cannabis, THC in the bloodstream is a lousy yardstick. Reviews and federal analyses keep circling the same conclusion: there’s no reliable, linear relationship between blood THC concentration and driving performance. Some people show reduced performance in complex tasks, sure. But per se THC limits—a clean number on a lab report—don’t line up the way breathalyzers do. Chronic users can test positive long after their buzz has left the building. Occasional users can register lower numbers but be more affected. If your test can’t tell “impaired” from “not,” you don’t have a safety screen—you have a dragnet.
- THC blood levels don’t correlate cleanly with crash risk the way BAC does.
- Urine tests flag past use, not present impairment, often for weeks.
- States with per se THC limits risk criminalizing unimpaired drivers.
- Safety-sensitive roles need impairment-focused tools, not time-machine tests.
And yet, transportation systems still need guardrails. That’s the tug-of-war: keep the traveling public safe without cutting your workforce off at the knees. Oral-fluid testing within tight detection windows. Fit-for-duty assessments that measure actual performance. Strict no-use-on-duty rules with documented abstinence windows before a shift. These are not radical ideas. They’re the difference between data-driven safety and superstition.
America’s patchwork problem
Look around the map and the contradictions multiply. One state sells legal flower, the next outlaws the gummy in your glovebox. Compliance, commerce, and common sense often travel on different passports. Ohio’s cities, for example, are starting to see the upside of regulated markets funding public services—see Ohio Cities Begin Receiving Marijuana Revenue To Support Local Programs And Services. In Virginia, lawmakers are finally pulling legal sales toward daylight with a pro-reform governor—read Virginia House And Senate Lawmakers Approve Bills To Legalize Marijuana Sales Under New Pro-Reform Governor. But the seams still split: in Missouri, regulators slapped businesses for dragging clones across borders—compliance isn’t optional—see Missouri Marijuana Businesses Fined For Bringing Clones Across State Lines In Violation Of Rules. And in South Dakota, the Senate couldn’t even agree to argue about banning certain intoxicating hemp and kratom products—policy gridlock as way of life—check South Dakota Senate Rejects Debate On Banning Intoxicating Hemp And Kratom. The result for transportation workers? A national standard that treats state legality as a footnote and a workforce that keeps paying for that contradiction.
What a pragmatic reset could look like
None of this demands a free-for-all. It demands precision. Keep zero tolerance for use on duty. Define a clear pre-shift abstinence window. Modernize testing toward impairment, not residue. Maintain consequences for violations and for actual safety risks. And if rescheduling to Schedule III happens, don’t stop there—use the discretion Congress already gave DOT to align policy with science and operational reality. That’s how you protect passengers and keep ferries moving at dawn. That’s how you tell skilled workers they’re valued for what they do on the clock, not punished for what they didn’t do off it. If you care about a safer, saner cannabis landscape—from the wheelhouse to the warehouse—keep exploring informed choices and compliant products with a visit to our shop: https://thcaorder.com/shop/.



