There is no question that cannabis carries a complicated reputation around NASCAR, and the tension shows up most clearly where safety, sponsorships, and culture collide. For officials and many long-time fans, the plant is still tied to “drug use” and impaired driving. For younger audiences, it increasingly looks like a normal part of modern wellness and consumer life.
At the policy level, NASCAR remains firmly conservative. Its substance-abuse rules prohibit members from using or having in their system any drug that is illegal under U.S. or state law, explicitly including marijuana and THC products, at any time. Random testing and a strict “Road to Recovery” program for violations reinforce a safety-first image built around high-speed, high-risk competition. In that context, it is not surprising that some officials still see cannabis primarily through the lens of risk, liability, and federal illegality.
Sponsorship history tells a more nuanced story. In 2019, NASCAR reportedly declined to allow CBD companies as sponsors, even though hemp had been legalized at the federal level under the 2018 Farm Bill. That decision fed the perception among some observers that cannabis—CBD included—was still stigmatized inside the sanctioning body. Yet just a few years later, Richard Childress Racing brought 3CHI, a hemp-derived product brand, onto an Xfinity Series car in what NASCAR itself described as its first hemp-based consumer brand sponsorship across major pro sports.
That evolution suggests the “official” stance is not pure moral opposition. It is a cautious, incremental response to changing laws and broadcast-partner rules. Officials are clearly still drawing a bright line between federally legal hemp and intoxicating THC products, but the door is not bolted shut.
Fan attitudes may be even less monolithic than the garage. Recent survey work on U.S. sports fans found that majorities across several leagues—including NASCAR—view cannabis sponsorships as acceptable, particularly for CBD brands. Broader national research shows that nearly four in five Americans now live in a county with at least one cannabis dispensary, reflecting how normalized legal marijuana has become in daily life. For younger adults, cannabis is increasingly framed as a wellness, recovery, or relaxation tool rather than a counterculture symbol.
Still, pockets of stigma remain. NASCAR’s core fan base has deep roots in regions where state cannabis laws are more restrictive, and where religious and cultural norms around “drugs” remain conservative. Some fans worry that overt THC branding clashes with the sport’s family-friendly positioning or sends mixed messages about impaired driving—concerns that are hard to ignore in a series built entirely around cars and speed.
Taken together, it would be too simple to say NASCAR is “anti-cannabis,” or that the stigma has vanished. Official policy is still stricter than in many other pro leagues, but sponsorship decisions and fan surveys point to gradual, uneven change rather than outright hostility. The real divide seems less between NASCAR and cannabis and more between older risk-averse frameworks and a new era in which legal cannabis is just another regulated consumer product.
For veteran observers of the industry and the sport, the next few years will likely answer the bigger question: does cannabis remain a quietly tolerated presence around race weekends, or does it eventually earn the same level of normalized visibility that alcohol and betting brands already enjoy?


