“I’d rather you smoke weed than drink and drive,” my dad once said to me, age 16, after my parents caught me buying shitty brick weed off directly in front of our suburban family home. His lopsided comparison stuck with me. Weed seemed infinitely safer and tamer than drinking did. And if adults I knew also respected smoked weed, many of whom had lovely families and successful careers, how bad could it possibly be? Why,...