Sixty years ago, renowned psychologist and thinker Abraham Maslow warned about a common cognitive bias in science: “I suppose it is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail.”
The Drug Enforcement Agency would be wise to ponder this wisdom before going through with its July 1, 2026 announcement of its “intent to temporarily place 7-hydroxymitragynine (7-OH) and three related substances into Schedule I of the Controlled Substances Act (CSA).”
This isn't the first time Washington has considered this approach. The Obama administration pursued federal scheduling in 2016, only to face overwhelming scientific and public opposition. President Trump's first administration reviewed the evidence again and concluded it did not justify Schedule I. Rather than repeat a policy his own administration rejected, today's administration should ask a simple question: what scientific evidence exists today that answered the unanswered questions identified by HHS in 2018?
Consumers use 7-OH for a variety of reasons, including to overcome addiction to fentanyl and other opioids, to treat pain and to manage severe anxiety. The National Institute on Drug Abuse openly acknowledges that researchers have found that consumers use these products “to alleviate pain, to address symptoms of mental health conditions like anxiety and depression, to help stop or reduce opioid or other substance use and to manage withdrawal symptoms and cravings related to opioids and other drugs.”
Yet despite its popularity among users, the product is not FDA approved for any medical purpose, nor is it proven to be safe. At the same time, there’s substantial reason to believe it may have medical value and that it may be far safer than alternatives.
A Schedule I listing would make rigorous scientific research extremely difficult — precisely when we need better data on dosing, safety, and efficacy. Instead of “ready, aim, fire,” the DEA is firing before aiming, while simultaneously destroying the ability to aim in the future. That was precisely the concern Trump's HHS expressed in 2018, concluding that scheduling before those questions were answered would leave policymakers with less science, not more. And that’s before we even consider the lessons about bootlegging from the prohibition of alcohol or the legacy of harm caused by prohibition in the failed war on drugs.
Back to Maslow’s warning, widely known as the law of the instrument, regulators are once again using a hammer. In this case, Schedule I is a sledgehammer, while the appropriate instrument would be a needle and thread. We need to establish the science and then build a regulatory approach around it. What’s the right effective dose or concentration for the range of indications? Who are— and are not— appropriate candidates for use? Instead of getting these answers, the sledgehammer will destroy the needle.
We can responsibly regulate products like these while research catches up on the full risks and benefits of 7-OH. That means clear age limits, accurate labels, enforceable milligram-based dose caps instead of vague percentage limits, and strong retail enforcement so bad actors are held accountable without driving consumers to an underground market.
From a risk perspective, proponents of banning 7-OH point to anecdotal reports of harm associated with 7-OH, but those cases almost always involve the presence of other substances, such as fentanyl — the very drug users are often trying to reduce their reliance on.
We’ve seen this mistake before. In 2019, a study in the Journal of the American Heart Association claimed e-cigarette users had significantly higher heart attack risk. The paper was later retracted after critics, including Brad Rodu, showed it failed to properly account for participants’ decades of prior cigarette smoking. The pattern is familiar: blame the newer harm-reduction product while discounting damage from the far more dangerous original product.
Attributing harm to 7-OH is not implausible, but it can’t be conjured up by case studies that ignore the presence of fentanyl and other dangerous illicit drugs.
The DEA has a powerful hammer. It shouldn’t be using it here. The first Trump administration rejected a rushed Schedule I designation because it concluded the science wasn't there yet. That decision reflected both scientific caution and regulatory humility. Before reviving a policy first pursued under the Obama administration, today's administration should explain what has changed. If those questions remain unanswered, the right answer is the same one President Trump's HHS reached in 2018: more science, better regulation, and no premature Schedule I designation.
