In 2020, Zachary Bomar walked away from 15 years in the oil field with his three brothers and a dream that felt uncannily familiar: another boom, another fortune waiting to be made. This time, the commodity was cannabis, and Oklahoma’s newly legal medical marijuana market seemed primed for takeoff. Wholesale prices hovered around $3,000 per pound. The opportunity looked genuine.
Six years later, Bomar’s selling that same product for roughly $1,100 per pound — enough to keep the lights on at Lost Brothers Cannabis Co., but a far cry from the windfall he and his brothers envisioned. What went wrong wasn’t hard to spot: Oklahoma got too good at the cannabis business too fast. The state imposed virtually no caps on licenses, production limits, or patient qualifications when it legalized medical marijuana. The result was a market so oversaturated that growers could theoretically supply every person in Oklahoma dozens of times over. A 2023 study commissioned by the Oklahoma Medical Marijuana Authority found that the state’s licensed growers exceeded patient demand by a staggering 64 to 1.
This wasn’t just a grower problem, though. It was a network problem. At its peak, the cannabis ecosystem had spawned nearly 14,000 licensed businesses across the state — 9,400 of them growers. But behind every grow house stood warehouses, contractors, electricians, security firms, and testing labs. Behind those were lawyers, accountants, and local banks. Rural water systems suddenly had paying customers. Counties with high concentrations of growers saw housing values rise as outside investors arrived with cash in hand. In some places, cannabis became the economic spine of the whole community.
Now that spine is showing signs of strain. Wholesale prices have collapsed by two-thirds, margins have evaporated, and the question isn’t whether struggling businesses will survive — it’s what happens to everyone else when they don’t. Real estate agent Krystal Deak has watched the commercial leasing market shift from“great”to downhill as operators lose the ability to invest long-term. Appraiser Darin Dalbom points to vacant rural facilities — like a 60-mile-outside-Oklahoma-City grow operation with 24 purpose-built structures and specialized climate control — that may never find another tenant. Stripping them down to generic warehouse space is expensive. Finding a buyer in a rural market that built its economy around cannabis is harder.
The state itself has complicated the picture. Gov. Kevin Stitt has called for shutting down Oklahoma’s medical marijuana industry entirely, citing out-of-control illegal grows and interstate diversion. That’s created a new economic force: pure uncertainty. Businesses can’t plan because they don’t know if they’ll exist in two years. Properties can’t be valued because nobody knows what they’ll be worth if the whole industry vanishes.
None of this solves the actual problem, though. As Oklahoma State University economist Brian Whitacre notes, you can’t just make a $1.7 billion industry disappear because you’ve decided you don’t like how it evolved. Hundreds of people who invested their life savings under a legal framework approved by voters are now facing the possibility of having the rules rewritten. Many workers whose paychecks support local grocery stores and gas stations could lose their jobs. Testing labs, compliance firms, and specialized trades that exist almost entirely because of cannabis demand would evaporate.
The deeper irony is that demand itself won’t disappear. As Matthew Phillips, a board member of the Oklahoma Cannabis Industry Association, puts it plainly: if the legal market closes, the illegal one expands. The gap between what Oklahoma’s licensed growers produce and what actually makes it to a dispensary tells you where much of the excess is already going — out of state, into the black market, undercutting legitimate businesses and flooding the very interstate diversion the governor is trying to prevent.
What Oklahoma built — in a rush, without guard rails, as a gold rush rather than an industry — is now catching up with it. The next question isn’t whether the cannabis business will thrive in Oklahoma. It’s whether the state has the political will and the economic wisdom to manage a controlled contraction instead of a chaotic collapse.
About the Author
Local Lawton
Local Lawton is a contributor to LocalBeat, covering local news and community stories.