South Carolina hemp THC ban: a late-night skirmish over gummies, gray areas, and who gets to write the rules

Under the fluorescent glare of gas-station coolers, South Carolina’s culture war over hemp-derived THC feels less like policy and more like a Sunday potluck that got spiked. The South Carolina hemp THC ban debate has escalated from niche concern to front-page brawl, with law enforcement brass urging lawmakers to slam the door on intoxicating hemp products rather than try to regulate them. On the House floor, a freshman Republican, Greg Ford, told a story that cut through the noise: his 24-year-old son is alive, he said, because they found a hemp tincture that quieted his seizures. Then came the knives—letters from SLED and police groups warning that Ford’s fix would effectively legalize recreational marijuana. After a razor-thin floor fight, the bill was punted back to committee, but no one should mistake that for surrender. In South Carolina politics, recommitment is usually a shiv in the ribs. This time, it’s intermission.

Ford’s proposal had the rough edges of a garage-built life raft—practical, imperfect, but aimed squarely at keeping people from drowning. Licenses for sellers. A hard 21-and-up line. Edibles, beverages, tinctures capped at 10 milligrams of THC per serving. He didn’t pretend it was a medical program; it was adult-use access with training wheels. The rival framework, backed by House Judiciary Chair Weston Newton, would allow only “intoxicating hemp beverages,” watered down to 5 milligrams per 12 ounces, and otherwise ban most THC-infused products. It’s a tug-of-war between two visions: regulate what people are already buying—or try to stuff a genii that slipped out in 2018 back into a Mason jar. That’s when the federal Farm Bill greenlit hemp with up to 0.3 percent delta-9 THC by dry weight, and a thousand corner-store concoctions bloomed overnight. The only way to tell the legal from the illicit is to test it, which means the line between safety net and sieve keeps moving with the lab results.

Law enforcement’s rebuttal came ironed and press-released. SLED Chief Mark Keel, a long-time opponent of medical marijuana, warned that Ford’s plan would tip the state into recreational territory and be “wholly unenforceable.” He argued for a total ban, or at minimum, rules so tight they’d squeak: liquor-store only, SLED inspections, gummies totaling no more than 10 milligrams per four-pack, beverages capped at 5 milligrams per 12 ounces. The subtext was simple—if you can’t police the gray, make it black and white. The South’s cannabis map is already a patchwork quilt stitched with contradictions; just up the road, reform groups are telling Richmond that adding fresh penalties to a legalization bill is a bad recipe, a thread explored in Virginia Senators Should Remove New Marijuana Penalties From Bill To Legalize Sales, Advocacy Groups Say. South Carolina stands at a similar fork: outlaw the stuff and chase it underground, or accept that the market is here and try to civilize it before it bites back.

“Simply using hemp-derived cannabinoid in place of THC or marijuana is merely a distinction without a real difference.”

What makes this fight interesting isn’t just the policy—it’s the coalition. Social conservatives who want a total ban linked arms with Democrats who want full legalization to boot the bill back to committee. Meanwhile, another House bill to ban all THC remains on the runway, and the Senate is weighing a simpler move: keep sales to 21-and-up. The attorney general is tugging lawmakers toward quick action, warning that kids are finding their way to these drinks and gummies. It’s a familiar American story: we build the plane in the air while the market taxis for takeoff. Look around the region and you’ll find laboratories running parallel experiments, from psychedelic study groups mulling the next frontier in Maryland Lawmakers Discuss Bill To Extend Psychedelics Task Force To Recommend More Reforms Through 2027 to a D.C. beat where even allies admit they’re unsure whether rescheduling cannabis is a day-one priority—see GOP Congressman Isn’t Sure Marijuana Rescheduling Is A DOJ ‘Priority,’ But Remains Optimistic About Progress Under Trump. South Carolina isn’t an island; it’s a stop on a highway of half-measures and hard lines, with sheriffs, shopkeepers, patients, and politicians all jostling at the same rest area.

Here’s the rub: gray markets don’t vanish—they metastasize. Keep the rules fuzzy and you’ll keep finding psychoactive gummies next to the lotto tickets, sold by clerks who couldn’t tell you the difference between delta-8, delta-9, and a deli pickle. Swing the hammer too hard and you’ll erase the one thing that sometimes works for people like Ford’s son, whose relief didn’t come from CBD alone but from a cannabis tincture that found the right balance. South Carolina’s past is a cautionary timeline: a 2014 CBD-only law for severe epilepsy then the 2018 Farm Bill wave that turned “hemp” into a brand and a battleground. If lawmakers don’t plot a clean course—clear dosing caps, honest labeling, lab testing with teeth, age gates that actually hold—the state risks repeating the bureaucratic drag that leaves real people stranded, like the expungement limbo still dogging many in Illinois, as detailed in People With Illinois Marijuana Convictions Face Long Delays In Expunging And Sealing Records. However South Carolina draws the line, draw it in ink, not pencil—and if you’re looking to navigate the compliant side of this evolving marketplace, take a measured step through our shop.