For nearly five decades, High Times stood as the unapologetic voice of cannabis counterculture. More than just a magazine, it was a platform that elevated music, politics, psychedelics, activism, and the plant itself. It was a symbol of rebellion, freedom, and community. Then came the spectacular fall, the kind that made it feel like High Times might be gone for good. Until now.
Today, High Times returns under new ownership, new leadership, and a renewed purpose. RAW Rolling Papers founder Josh Kesselman, a lifelong reader and supporter of the brand, has taken the lead in acquiring the core assets of High Times, including the magazine, the Cannabis Cup, and its affiliated media properties. Alongside him is Matt Stang, a former High Times executive and co-owner and longtime cultural operator who helped build the Cannabis Cup into a global institution. Their plan: restore the soul of a brand that shaped generations, and set a new course rooted in the values that first built it.
“I get to bring back a piece of history that has played such an important part in culture and impacted so many lives, including my own,” Kesselman said. “This feels like a dream.”
But the dream comes with real work. And a complicated inheritance.
High Times’ recent history has been anything but stable. After its 2017 acquisition by an investor group led by Adam Levin, the brand shifted its focus to aggressive expansion, launching an investor crowdfund, pursuing a public offering, and acquiring retail cannabis businesses across the U.S.
The pitch was seductive: own a piece of the world’s most iconic cannabis brand. Over 20,000 investors bought in. Many never got shares. Few got answers. And when High Times missed SEC filing deadlines and continued to accept investments, it triggered investigations. In 2023, Levin was charged with securities fraud. By early 2025, he had pleaded guilty to conspiracy.
During those years, the magazine printed intermittently, debts mounted, and a string of failed business deals drained the company’s momentum. The brand was out of cash, out of leadership, and out of time.
“It was heartbreaking,” said a former editor who asked not to be named. “We saw something we loved turned into a business plan. A bad one.”
By mid-2024, a court-appointed receiver was actively shopping the High Times trademarks, events, and licenses to the highest bidder. Among the bidders: private equity firms, dispensary groups, and even a psychedelics company hoping to rebrand the magazine entirely.
Instead, it landed in the hands of someone at the very core of Cannabis culture.
Josh Kesselman didn’t enter the cannabis space through Silicon Valley or Wall Street. His path started in Gainesville, Florida, with a head shop, a van, and a deep love for rolling papers. What began as a storefront called Knuckleheads became the launchpad for a decades-long mission: to make better papers and treat smokers with respect.
RAW Rolling Papers officially launched in 2005 and quickly gained a loyal following among people who cared about purity, craft, and culture. The product was different; unbleached, vegan, and made with a natural connection to what smokers truly wanted yet had never experienced. But what set RAW apart was the man behind it. Kesselman connected directly with the community through videos, meetups, giveaways, and support for causes that mattered. He didn’t just build a brand. He earned a following.
Kesselman’s approach made him one of the most respected figures in the space: a founder with mass reach and underground credibility. And as RAW expanded worldwide, his loyalty to the roots of cannabis culture never wavered. He didn’t exit. He reinvested. In products. In people. In the culture itself.
Josh is a character. Charismatic, outspoken, and unapologetic. A throwback to the wild inventors and idealists who once ran underground empires. People like Thomas Forçade, the outlaw founder of High Times, who launched the magazine in 1974 while smuggling cannabis and funding radical newspapers. There’s a poetic symmetry to it: two long-haired misfits, decades apart, both driven by obsession and a refusal to sell out.
Kesselman had watched from the outside as the magazine he grew up on lost its way. The voice was gone. The magazine, when it was published at all, felt like a big paid ad. Cannabis Cups had stopped.
So when the opportunity arose to acquire the assets after the brand fell into receivership, the opportunity to rebuild it felt personal. “It wasn’t about flipping something,” he said. “It was about saving something. High Times always stood for more than the plant,” Kesselman told us. “It stood for truth. For freedom. For not apologizing about who we are.” To help save High Times he brought back part of the legacy to help.
Matt Stang is no stranger to the High Times story. Starting as an intern in the late 1990s, he spent nearly two decades inside the brand, eventually rising to Chief Revenue Officer and helping expand the magazine’s reach during the early days of legalization.
But his biggest contribution was the Cannabis Cup. When he first joined, the event was still a small gathering in Amsterdam. Under Stang, it evolved into a multi-city, international celebration of cannabis culture. “It was never just about the trophies,” Stang told us. “It was about recognition. Community. Celebration.”
In 2017 the company was purchased by private equity owners. Matt vehemently disagreed with the way High Times was being turned into a private equity run business and departed soon thereafter. During his time away he watched from the sidelines as the Cup and the magazine lost their footing. “When we saw what was happening, it wasn’t just disappointing,” he said. “It was painful.”
Now, many years later Stang returns as a partner to help restore High Times to its cultural and historical importance adding, “It’s time to bring back and revive the community we built together.”
From the sound of it, new ownership plans to bring back what made High Times special in the first place. The print magazine will return in small, collectible runs with deeper stories, and a focus on quality.
The archives: including covers, articles and art will be brought back to life, too.
The Cannabis Cup is also being rebuilt with third-party judging, real transparency, and new ways for the public to participate.
“Some of the greatest times of my life happened at those Cups. And I will bring them back. They’ll be just as much fun, because that’s the point,” Kessleman said. “When you remove private equity and investors, when it’s just a couple of people trying to do something for the culture, the possibilities become limitless.”
The new High Times website will roll out podcasts, video features, and longform storytelling again, mixing veteran contributors with new voices who live and breathe the culture.
Kesselman (who has millions of followers of his own) also wants the platform to serve as a home base for the most important cannabis voices on social media, rerouting users to hidden or new accounts to keep the community connected amid shadow bans and deletions. He thinks this will help save and rebuild our fractured community because in his words, “nobody can stop the truth.”
And yes, there will be merch. Apparel. Rolling papers. All done right. All done in the spirit of keeping the platform alive without selling it out.
The road back won’t be quick. But that’s the point. “I don’t care if it takes five years,” Kesselman said. “I’d rather go slow and build something real.”
“Most importantly?” Kesselman added. “Have fun while doing it.”
We can’t help but think that if Thomas Forçade could see High Times now—passed from the suits back to the true believers—he’d be lighting a joint and saying, finally.
