Snoop Dogg: How One Man Made Cannabis Normal

In December 2023 the internet lost its mind. Snoop Dogg — a man whose very name had become a synonym for marijuana — posted on social media: "I'm giving up smoke. Please respect my privacy at this time." His 129 million followers froze. Fans were devastated. Headlines from CNN to Rolling Stone declared the end of an era.

Four days later Snoop appeared in a commercial for Solo Stove, roasting marshmallows over a smokeless fire pit: "I know what you're thinking: 'Snoop, smoke is kind of your whole thing.' But I'm done with it … I'm going smokeless." Users on X (formerly Twitter) wrote: "This is like asking the Pope to give up preaching for a brand deal."

That one episode is Snoop Dogg in a nutshell: he is so inseparable from cannabis that even a joke about quitting became world news. No other human being on earth could have pulled off the same stunt. Because no other human being has done more to normalize cannabis than Calvin Cordozar Broadus Jr. — a.k.a. Snoop Dogg.

Entry point: the album named after marijuana

On December 15, 1992, Dr. Dre released The Chronic. The title itself was slang for high-grade hydroponic marijuana popular in Southern California. The cover art placed Dre's face inside the Zig-Zag rolling-papers logo. The album sold over six million copies and was inducted into the Library of Congress National Recording Registry.

It was on that album the world first heard a young Snoop Doggy Dogg. He was twenty years old. His voice — lazy, liquid, as if he were speaking through a cloud of smoke — instantly became the calling card of a new sound: G-Funk, gangsta funk, a blend of psychedelic funk, live instrumentation, and street rap.

From the very first note of his career, Snoop was hard-coded into the DNA of cannabis. This wasn't a pose or a marketing angle — it was cultural identity.

Why Snoop isn't just "a rapper who smokes"

There is no shortage of celebrities linked to cannabis — Willie Nelson, Seth Rogen, Woody Harrelson, Wiz Khalifa (and many more). But Snoop did something fundamentally different. He didn't just use. He didn't just talk about it. He lived as though prohibition had already been repealed — and he did it in front of the entire planet.

In 1993, when Snoop was starting out, cannabis was illegal in all fifty U.S. states. Medical marijuana in California wouldn't arrive for another three years. Snoop already behaved as though smoking were the most normal thing in the world.

And here is his real miracle: he didn't fight the system. He didn't march with placards (though he did support reform). He didn't write petitions. He was simply himself — relaxed, successful, wealthy, calm, creative. He smoked on camera. He laughed. And he looked not like a dropout or a victim, but like a man who was perfectly fine.

That demolished a decades-old stereotype: "if you smoke, you're at the bottom." Snoop showed you could be at the very top.

81 blunts a day — and a salaried blunt roller

During a Reddit AMA in December 2012 (when he went by Snoop Lion), someone asked: "On average, how much do you smoke in a week?" His answer: "81 blunts a day x 7." When another user pressed — "Why not 82?" — Snoop replied: "ON a good day."

Exaggeration? Probably. But here is an even more astonishing fact: Snoop employs a full-time Professional Blunt Roller (PBR). This is not a joke. He revealed the position on The Howard Stern Show in 2019. Salary: $40,000 to $50,000 a year. Plus perks: free marijuana, world tours, branded clothing, all-expenses-paid travel. In 2022 Snoop announced the roller had received a raise — because of inflation.

Seth Rogen, who was on the same show, confirmed: "That person has impeccable timing — they always know when you need a blunt."

Snoop's comment was simple: "If you're great at something I need, I'm hiring you."

Not an activist. Not a politician. An architect

It would be a mistake to describe Snoop as a "cannabis activist" in the traditional sense. He is not a lawyer, a lobbyist, or a bill drafter. But what he built matters just as much for the cannabis industry — perhaps more.

He constructed an ecosystem:

• Leafs by Snoop (2015) — one of the first celebrity cannabis brands, produced through Canopy Growth in Canada. Eight products, packaging designed by the legendary Pentagram studio.

• Merry Jane (2015) — a media platform launched at TechCrunch Disrupt in San Francisco. Editorial content on cannabis business, policy, strains, cooking shows, and celebrity interviews.

• Casa Verde Capital — a venture fund Snoop co-founded with Karan Wadhera and Tony Ghanem. Portfolio: over 100 startups worldwide spanning cultivation technology, telehealth, insurance, and delivery.

• Eaze — a cannabis delivery service backed by Casa Verde.

• Mamedica — in September 2025 Casa Verde invested £4.5 million (roughly $6 million) in the UK's largest medical-cannabis telehealth platform. Over 7,500 patients; specialization in chronic pain and epilepsy.

• Death Row Records — in 2022 Snoop purchased the very label that launched his career. Full circle.

He turned cannabis from an underground substance into an industry, a brand, and a lifestyle. Not with words — with money, teams, and products.

The quiet guide

If cannabis culture were a pantheon, every figure would have an archetype. Bob Marley — the prophet. Willie Nelson — the elder. Bob Dylan — the one who once offered The Beatles a joint at the Delmonico Hotel and changed the sound of an entire generation.

And Snoop? Snoop is the patron saint of the everyday.

Not aggressive. Not preachy. Not revolutionary. Just a calm guide. A man who never fought for the right to smoke — he lived as though that right had never been taken away. And eventually it really did stop being controversial.

Martha Stewart — the queen of home cooking — is his best friend. Together they hosted a show on VH1 (Emmy-nominated in 2017), launched joint business ventures, and in 2025 threw a cannabis-pairing dinner in West Hollywood. Martha admits she "gets a little high from the secondhand smoke" around Snoop. That is the whole point: a man who made cannabis so normal that a homemaking icon is perfectly comfortable sitting beside him.

The cultural soil for legalization

When Snoop started out (1993), cannabis was illegal in all fifty states. Today dozens of states have legalized both medical and recreational marijuana. Snoop didn't write a single law. But he created the cultural soil without which those laws would have been far harder to pass.

Research shows that pop culture and hip-hop directly shifted public opinion on cannabis. Snoop is one of the key figures in that process. For decades he publicly advocated for legalization. He spoke about the medical properties of cannabis. He raised the issue of replacing opioids. He pointed out the unjust arrests that disproportionately affect Black communities.

But the crucial thing is that he never looked like an activist. He looked like a man to whom all of this was simply obvious. And that was more persuasive than any slogan.

The global effect

Snoop is not just an American phenomenon. His influence is worldwide.

He accomplished three things on a global scale:

1. Legitimized the image. Before Snoop, the mainstream image of a cannabis user was a dropout, a slacker, a "junkie." After Snoop, it was a successful, relaxed, creative person with a business empire.

2. Exported the culture. Through music, film, advertising, and social media, Snoop carried the relaxed cannabis lifestyle to Europe, Asia, and Africa. He is recognized literally everywhere.

3. Made weed mainstream. Cannabis stopped being a niche counterculture topic. It became part of music, film, advertising, business — and a significant share of that normalization happened through one person.

The Olympic torch — or the biggest blunt in history?

In July 2024, Snoop reached a new, utterly unthinkable level: NBC hired him as a special correspondent for the Paris Olympic Games. According to venture capitalist Henry McNamara, who overheard an NBC executive at a New York restaurant, Snoop was paid $500,000 per day plus expenses — roughly $8–9 million for the 17-day run. NBC never officially confirmed the figure, but never denied it either.

On July 26, Snoop carried the Olympic torch through the Parisian suburb of Saint-Denis as one of the final torchbearers before the opening ceremony. The internet exploded instantly. The conical torch in the hands of the world's most famous smoker — the memes wrote themselves. The official Olympics account on X posted: "Don't… Drop it like it's hot!" BBC anchor Maryan Moshiri attempted to rap his lyrics on live air. Users wrote: "Thank you for holding the Olympic joint" and "Snoop in Paris is definitely in the clouds."

But the torch was just the beginning. Snoop commentated on dressage, where a horse named Maxima Bella performed to his 1994 track Gin & Juice. He freestyled on air: "From the front to the back / There's so much drama, and party / It's hard being an H-O-R-S-E." He danced in the front row at Simone Biles' gymnastics qualifier so enthusiastically that the announcer asked the crowd: "Anybody have more fun than Snoop? I don't think so." He took a swimming lesson with Michael Phelps in goggles and a swim cap, joking about his "lung power."

Think about this for a second. A man whose name is literally synonymous with marijuana became the face of the biggest sporting event on the planet. He wasn't just invited — he was paid half a million a day to be himself. The Olympic Committee, NBC, global brands — they all decided: Snoop Dogg works for us. And that is perhaps the most convincing indicator of how much attitudes toward cannabis culture have shifted. If the man who is marijuana carries the Olympic torch — the world has truly changed.

He didn't fight. He just lived

For more than thirty years Snoop has never once betrayed himself. He didn't try to meet anyone else's expectations. He didn't hide. He didn't apologize.

He has sold over 35 million records. He co-headlined the Super Bowl halftime show in 2022 and won an Emmy for it. He became an investor, a media mogul, and a cultural icon. All of it — with a blunt in his hand.

Calvin Broadus Jr. didn't merely normalize cannabis — he proved that normalization works. That if you act long enough as though something is already normal, sooner or later the world agrees. Not because you convinced it. But because you gave it permission.

More stories about how cannabis intersects with culture and celebrities — on our blog. And if you want to know how a single evening and one misheard lyric changed the sound of an entire era, read about The Beatles and Bob Dylan at the Delmonico Hotel.

This article is for informational purposes only and is based on public statements, interviews, and documented facts. Responsible use and compliance with local laws are your responsibility.