After I became a brand ambassador for the European seed company Blimburn earlier this year, I got comments asking why I wasn’t representing OG American breeders instead. My answer is that our cannabis community has never been about drawing lines in the sand or limiting innovation to a single country. It has always thrived on global exchange, collaboration, and the free movement of genetics, knowledge, and culture.
In the 1970s, the Brotherhood of Eternal Love was one of the most powerful and conscious forces in legacy cannabis. They smuggled weed and hash from Mexico, Afghanistan, Nepal and other countries into the U.S., creating a supply chain that fueled the underground market. The Brotherhood and other smugglers didn’t just import cannabis; they collected and distributed seeds, introducing new breeding possibilities that would shape the future of cultivation. These possibilities were then developed by the first generation of North American breeders. Among them was the iconic, recently passed and widely mourned David Watson, who later became known as Skunk Man Sam. Watson and his wife Diana had traveled the globe as a young couple, collecting cannabis genetics far and wide. Back in California, Watson stabilized and distributed Skunk #1, one of the first true hybrids, setting the stage for modern breeding.
As the U.S. government escalated its War on Drugs in the 1980s, Watson and other foreign breeders found sanctuary in the Netherlands, where coffee shops openly sold cannabis, and seed production and distribution existed in a legal gray area. Cultivation of cannabis was not legal, but since seeds themselves did not contain THC, they could be legally sold. This legal ambiguity allowed breeders like Neville Schoenmaker and Skunk Man Sam to team up with Dutch coffeeshop owners to launch the first commercial seed banks. For the first time in history, top-tier cannabis genetics were freely and widely available, by mail order to anywhere in the world.
But this safe haven didn’t last forever. By the late 2000s, Dutch authorities began tightening regulations, restricting seed banks, and making it increasingly difficult for breeders to operate freely. The government cracked down on large-scale cultivation and introduced laws that discouraged cannabis tourism, effectively dismantling the once-thriving breeding scene. The coffee shop model, while still in place, also faced increasing pressure, with new restrictions imposed on tourist access and the number of establishments permitted to operate. As a result, the epicenter of cannabis breeding shifted once again, this time to Spain.
Spain’s cannabis social clubs, rooted in community-based cultivation, provided a new foundation for both innovation and access. Breeders from around the world relocated there, ensuring that cannabis genetics continued to evolve outside of government restrictions. But Spain wasn’t just a refuge; it became an active participant in shaping the industry. Spanish seed companies like Blimburn and Sweet Seeds played a crucial role in expanding high-quality genetics into Latin America, where cannabis had long been a target of the U.S.-driven War on Drugs. Cannabis expos like Spannabis provided a meeting ground for activists, policymakers, and entrepreneurs to exchange ideas and push the movement forward. Publications like Cañamo spread the good news about cannabis throughout Latin America.
Despite bearing the brunt of prohibitionist policies, Latin America had always contributed mightily to the cannabis movement and never stopped. It provided the vast majority of cannabis consumed in the United States until fifteen or so years ago, and its landrace strains were crucial building blocks in the creation of the modern genetic library. In 2013, Uruguay became the first country to fully legalize cannabis, influenced by lessons learned from Spanish social clubs and North American regulatory models. Activists in Mexico, Colombia, and Argentina then built upon these frameworks, showing once again that cannabis liberation is a global movement.
Today, Blimburn continues that tradition of cross-border collaboration. It has moved its global production facility to California, where it has quietly created new roles for some of the state’s most seasoned cannabis professionals, and added its distinctive focus on home grow genetics to the ever evolving U.S. marketplace.
This kind of international exchange is what has made cannabis culture and industry what it is today. If Afghanistan had refused to share its genetics with the Brotherhood, if the Netherlands had closed its doors to foreign breeders, if Spain had cold-shouldered cannabis refugees from the Netherlands or refused to send seeds and education to Latin America, where would we be today? The global cannabis movement has thrived not because of narrow nationalism, but because of the exact opposite — an unbreakable network of mutual aid, genetic exchange, and shared knowledge. European seed companies and activists didn’t just preserve and distribute genetics; they helped shape new legal frameworks, inspired regulatory models, and championed cultural exchanges that have strengthened cannabis communities worldwide.
To those asking why I represent Blimburn instead of OG American breeders, my answer is simple: cannabis has no borders. It never has, and it never will. The industry was built by a global tribe of cultivators, breeders, and activists who refused to let nationalism stand in the way of progress. That’s the legacy I stand for, and that’s the future I will continue to support.
Photo: Shutterstock
This article is from an external, unpaid contributor. It does not represent High Times’ reporting and has not been edited for content or accuracy.
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