In August, New York mayor Eric Adams stood before a banner festooned with cannabis-leaf emblems, making what he billed as a major announcement. “Today, we light up our economy,” enthused the mayor. Referring to recreational pot sales, he continued: “The regulated adult-use cannabis industry is a once-in-a-generation opportunity. . . . Cannabis NYC will plant the seeds for the economy of tomorrow.” Standing with Adams, John Durso of the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union promised “good, union jobs.” Jeffrey Garcia of the Latino Cannabis Association predicted “one of the largest generators of wealth in New York at least for the next two decades.” Bertha Lewis of the Black Institute affirmed that “cannabis is an industry and not just a nickel bag.” Deputy mayor for economic development Maria Torres-Springer promised “hundreds of millions in revenue” for the city.
Welcome to New York’s post-pandemic economic-development policy: the promotion of vice. In this New York, vice isn’t something to tolerate, operating on the edges of the law, in a black market in a dense, wealthy city; it’s a premier growth industry.
And pot isn’t the only vice that New York is encouraging. Gotham is also eagerly courting multiple full-service casinos. It’s a path that struggling and far weaker American cities—including Atlantic City, New Orleans, and Detroit—took out of sheer economic desperation, born of policy failure. Adams is unabashedly cheering the expansion of “gaming,” as he calls it, to “create at least 16,000 good-paying jobs.”
New York’s new emphasis on pot and poker—even as the city ignores the day-to-day quality-of-life concerns of its core high-paying industries in finance and business and its highest-earning individual taxpayers—comes despite decades’ worth of evidence that vice-oriented cities don’t thrive.
A topic City Journal’s Nicole Gelinas explores in depth; referencing the not exactly thriving gambling havens of Atlantic City, Detroit, and New Orleans.