COLUMBUS, OHIO — A groundbreaking new study has found that 42% of drivers killed in fatal crashes in one Ohio county over six years tested positive for THC, leading researchers to conclude that cannabis users sometimes drive automobiles—a finding that has sent shockwaves through the medical community, whose members had previously assumed marijuana enthusiasts exclusively levitated or traveled by vibes.

The study, which was presented at a conference (not peer-reviewed, poster board positioned twelve feet from the continental breakfast), examined 246 fatal crash cases in Montgomery County between 2019 and 2024. Researchers expressed "surprise" at their findings, marking the first time in recorded history that scientists have been surprised to learn that people who consume a substance used by 50 million Americans also participate in daily activities like driving, working, and existing.

"We were genuinely shocked," said lead researcher Dr. Peter Ekeh, apparently unaware that cannabis users include line cooks, touring musicians, software engineers, and approximately everyone who has ever lived in California. "Next, we plan to study whether coffee drinkers also operate heavy machinery, and whether people who have eaten breakfast sometimes go places afterward."

The study's methodology rested on a load-bearing wall of pure statistical audacity: treating "detectable THC in blood" as synonymous with "actively experiencing the effects of cannabis." By this standard, a driver who consumed half a gummy edible at 2 PM and was stone-sober by 7 PM would be classified identically to someone who was, in the clinical parlance, "completely zooted" at the moment of impact. THC, which can remain detectable in blood for hours or even days after impairment has fully subsided, was treated as a smoking gun still warm to the touch.

"'Recent consumption' is doing felony-level deception in this study," noted Dr. Helena Marsh, a toxicologist who was not involved in the research and seemed actively grateful for that fact. "The phrase could mean the driver was mid-bong-rip, or it could mean they'd had a Delta-8 gummy while watching Succession fourteen hours earlier and were now running late and thinking about their parking spot. The study treats these as identical because nuance doesn't fit on a headline."

Perhaps the study's most remarkable achievement was its complete omission of alcohol—the substance responsible for approximately 10,000 American road deaths annually, or roughly 37% of all traffic fatalities nationwide. The decision not to mention the drug that kills more drivers than any other substance was, according to researchers, "not an oversight" but rather "a focused inquiry," which is science-speak for "we had a deadline and a predetermined conclusion."

Somewhere in St. Louis, an Anheuser-Busch executive is reportedly sending the research team a fruit basket. The card reads only: "Thank you for your service."

The study's sample size—246 deaths across six years in a single Ohio county—amounts to roughly 41 fatalities per year. For perspective, Ohio loses more residents annually to choking on food. When reached for comment, Big Chewing issued a prepared statement: "Thoughts and prayers."

The legal THC threshold used in the study—2-5 ng/mL—was not, as one might assume, determined by scientists. It was determined by legislators in the early 2010s, whose cannabis expertise peaked at a 1988 school assembly where a police officer held up a poster of a wilted plant and called it "Mary Jane." Daily cannabis users, studies have shown, can function normally at blood concentrations of 50 ng/mL or higher. The legal limit exists because the form had a blank field and someone had to type something.

"The threshold was essentially arbitrary," confirmed Dr. Theodore Huang, a pharmacologist at UCLA. "It's like setting the legal blood-coffee limit at 'whatever makes the machine beep' and then acting surprised when your study finds that 100% of Starbucks employees are legally impaired at all times."

Perhaps the study's most damning finding was its own accidental suicide: THC-positive rates among fatal crash victims were 42% before Ohio legalized recreational cannabis and 42% after. The researchers presented this as evidence of an ongoing crisis. Statisticians presented it as evidence that Ohio is a fixed constant, immutable across time and law—a behavioral Planck length. Six years of research to discover that Ohio is Ohio. Publish immediately.

"If your before-and-after numbers are identical, you haven't indicted cannabis," observed Dr. Marsh. "You've proven that nothing changed, which is actually a point in legalization's favor. But I suspect that finding didn't make the poster board."

Critically, the study never established that a single THC-positive driver actually caused their crash—a methodological gap roughly the size of Montgomery County itself. Any of the 42% could have been sitting stationary at a red light when a stone-sober realtor, mentally staging a living room while scrolling Zillow, came through the intersection at 50 miles per hour. But coroners don't test for "mentally staging the living room." The stoned guy gets the blame. It was always going to be this way.

"Fault determination is the dog that didn't bark," said traffic safety analyst Robin Chen. "Without it, all you've proven is that some people who died had, at some point in the recent past, consumed cannabis. You haven't proven they caused anything. You've just proven they existed."

The study's presentation venue—a trauma surgery conference, not a peer-reviewed journal—raised additional questions. "Presented at conference" is academic code for "registered before the early-bird deadline and assigned a poster board." This is not the New England Journal of Medicine. This is a tri-fold display competing for attention with a coffee station and a booth selling surgical loupes at a 15% discount.

When asked to comment on the study's limitations, Dr. Ekeh expressed continued surprise—this time that journalists would ask follow-up questions. "We're just trying to start a conversation," he said, using the phrase universally understood to mean "please don't ask about our methodology."

The conversation, such as it is, might be better started by examining the study's buried bombshell: 58% of drivers killed in these crashes tested completely negative for THC. By the study's own logic, sobriety is deadlier than being high. A majority of fatal crashes involved drivers who were provably, testably not under the influence of cannabis.

Where, then, is the War on Not Being High? Where are the PSAs? "This is your brain. This is your brain completely sober. This is your brain sober behind the wheel. Any questions?" Big Sobriety has captured the discourse, and we are through the looking glass.

At press time, a follow-up study was announced examining whether podiatrists are "stunned" to learn that people with feet sometimes walk places.