Breaking: All Cannabis LinkedIn Job Listings Secretly Rerouted to a Government-Grade Black Hole

Somewhere between “Easy Apply” and “We’ve decided to move forward with other candidates,” there is a place.

A real place.

A stupid place.

A place so hostile to hope it smells faintly of burnt resumes and LinkedIn Premium desperation.

Every cannabis job listing you see on LinkedIn, Brand Manager, VP of Culture, Head of Growth (Must Love Compliance), is not actually intended to hire a human being. The listing exists solely to be funneled, via fiber-optic lie, to a remote facility where it is immediately destroyed and never acknowledged again.

Sources describe the process as follows:

The moment a cannabis company posts a job, an automated system called ATS-420™ intercepts it. The post is briefly shown to the public so the company can claim it’s “building the team,” “investing in people,” or “scaling thoughtfully.”

Then-whoosh-the listing is rerouted.

Not to HR.

Not to a hiring manager.

Not even to an intern pretending to be HR.

It goes straight to The Sorting Room.

Inside, thousands of job descriptions are printed out on thick, expensive paper, usually the same paper used for investor decks that say culture-forward seventeen times without defining it. The listings are reviewed by a panel consisting of:

• One ex-consultant who has never worked in cannabis

• One compliance officer who hates joy

• One founder who swears they’re “not corporate” while wearing a Patagonia vest indoors

They do not read the applications. They skim the titles and stamp them with one of three red marks:

• “Already Filled Internally (Nephew)”

• “Budget Pulled After Posting”

• “Let’s Circle Back After Q4/Q7/QNever”

Applications from actual candidates are treated with ritualistic efficiency. Each resume is fed into a conveyor belt labeled PASSIONATE ABOUT THE PLANT, where it is scanned for dangerous phrases like:

• “Store-level experience”

• “Has actually sold weed”

• “Wants fair pay”

If detected, the resume is immediately incinerated.

Cover letters fare even worse. Especially the good ones. Especially the ones written by people who have:

• Opened stores

• Built brands

• Survived three acquisitions and a rebrand

Those are shredded slowly, so the machine can really savor it.

The most tragic casualties are the LinkedIn comments:

“Just applied, excited about this opportunity!”

“Would love to bring my experience to this team.”

“This role feels like a perfect fit.”

These comments are archived in a sub-basement known as The Echo Chamber, where they repeat back to each other forever, unheard, unacknowledged, spiritually unemployed.

Occasionally, to maintain the illusion of motion, the company will send a rejection email 6–9 months later:

Thank you so much for your interest. We were blown away by the talent.

This is generated automatically by a bot that has never met a candidate, never seen a resume, and actively resents you for believing the job was real.

Industry insiders confirm the truth:

Most cannabis LinkedIn jobs are not vacancies.

They are content.

They exist to:

• Signal growth to investors

• Pad culture decks

• Justify why the founder’s friend from tech suddenly has a title

Hiring is optional. Posting is mandatory.

So if you’re scrolling LinkedIn at 11:47 PM, seeing yet another “Head of Brand / Player-Coach / Must Be Willing to Do Everything” role, know this:

You didn’t miss your chance.

There was never a chance.

The listing has already been destroyed.

The resumes are ash.

And somewhere, a company is congratulating itself for being people-first.

Welcome to cannabis hiring.