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The Scientist Trying to Keep Kratom Legal Has Not Disclosed Longstanding Ties to Kratom Lobbyists

An illustration shows a bearded man looking at a microscope while holding a yellow pill in one hand. Surrounding him are images of a man in a suit, researchers in lab coats, and yellow pills growing on lush green plants.
Jin Ke Wang for ProPublica

The leading scientist urging policymakers not to criminalize kratom, a substance that has left a trail of death and addiction around the world, has routinely failed to disclose longstanding financial ties to the industry’s most powerful lobbying group, ProPublica has found.

University of Florida professor Christopher McCurdy has accepted travel reimbursements, donations to his university’s foundation and funding for an annual symposium on research into the leaf’s medicinal potential from the American Kratom Association — none of which has been disclosed in his conflict of interest statements or on the papers he publishes.

The fight to keep kratom legal across the country has taken on increased urgency as more potent kratom derivatives have appeared on store shelves and evidence has mounted of the leaf’s risks to users’ health. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 5,200 people in the United States died from drug overdoses involving kratom between 2020 and 2024. And calls to poison control centers involving kratom have spiked 1,200% in the last decade. 

The lobbying group, which says it advocates for kratom consumers, has waged a pitched battle in statehouses and in Washington, D.C., to keep kratom products widely available in America’s gas stations, smoke shops and convenience stores. Documents show it has relied repeatedly on McCurdy to help convince lawmakers kratom is safe enough to remain legal — deploying him to key states that are either considering full bans on the leaf or are on the verge of overturning an existing ban. His success fighting federal regulators earned him a place in the AKA’s Legacy Advocate Hall of Fame.

Kratom comes from a tree native to Southeast Asia and is sold as a powder or in capsules, tablets or shots like energy drinks. In small amounts, it acts as a stimulant. In larger amounts, it acts like an opioid. Although the Food and Drug Administration prohibits marketing it as a supplement or using it as a food ingredient, it’s advertised as a mood and energy enhancer, a painkiller and an alternative to opioids.

ProPublica’s review of McCurdy’s appearances in recent years shows he has emphasized kratom’s therapeutic potential while downplaying its risks — despite his own published research finding kratom use can lead to severe withdrawal symptoms in newborns exposed in utero, and to dependency and even death in those who take it. McCurdy has brushed off questions about the hazards by noting that even water can kill if consumed in excessive quantities. McCurdy does, however, argue for better manufacturing standards and labeling, and for putting age restrictions on kratom’s use.

Other scientists who consult with and do research for the kratom association disclose that relationship. But McCurdy, who does not disclose it, has built a reputation as a neutral arbiter in the emotional debate pitting those with life-altering kratom addiction against those who say they use it without ill effects to combat opioid use or relieve pain.

Indeed, McCurdy’s research focuses on developing kratom’s dominant chemical compound into a pharmaceutical to treat addiction. That work has been funded by the federal government, which has poured an estimated $100 million in grants into the research. Such funding could be disrupted if kratom is declared illegal.

McCurdy told ProPublica that he has accepted invitations to speak to policymakers because “decisions about kratom should be informed by the best available science.” Reimbursed travel expenses don’t influence the “substance” of his presentations or his “scientific conclusions,” he said.

“My views on kratom are based on more than two decades of scientific research,” he said. “They are my own and are not dictated by the American Kratom Association or any other outside organization.”

Those advocating for restrictions on kratom contend that as McCurdy testifies, publishes research or provides public information, he should be more forthright about his relationship with the kratom industry.

Jennifer Brandt, a Virginia pharmacist who advocates for a total ban on kratom sales, was the first to file records requests with the University of Florida for McCurdy’s correspondence. She has subsequently asked a medical journal to append corrections listing his ties to the lobbying group. “I’m really confused on where science ends and lobbying begins,” she said of McCurdy.


McCurdy’s work opposing the criminalization of kratom started as early as 2018. That year, he joined with other scientists — including the AKA’s lead science consultant — to convince the Drug Enforcement Administration not to classify kratom as a Schedule I narcotic. The designation, reserved for drugs with no medical purpose and high abuse potential, would make kratom illegal. The scientists said in a letter to federal regulators that it would also “severely hinder” their research into possible therapeutic uses. In a paper, McCurdy argued that scheduling kratom would erect new regulatory hurdles to studying the leaf and dissuade funders from supporting it. The effort to schedule kratom was halted during the first Trump administration.

However, the association’s fight continued as it worked to convince state lawmakers to explicitly legalize kratom by regulating its sale. McCurdy also became a key player in this effort, according to emails obtained by ProPublica through public records requests to the University of Florida. 

While the group’s membership is made up of kratom users, its lobbying efforts are funded by manufacturers and vendors. It spends about $2.5 million a year on lobbying.

In 2023, at the AKA’s request, McCurdy briefed the United Nations Commission on Narcotic Drugs, which regularly considers kratom regulation. He conducted the briefing remotely and did not travel to the annual meeting in Vienna that year. In 2025, however, he made the trip to brief delegates in person. Emails indicate his hotel room was paid for by the lobbying group.  

In 2024, McCurdy traveled several times for the association. He planned an August trip to Indonesia, which was considering a full ban on the leaf, with the association paying $8,700 for a first-class plane ticket. McCurdy canceled the trip at the last minute, the association said. Email correspondence indicates, however, that he kept the flight credit for future AKA-related travel. 

But he was soon back on the road. In September, he went to Washington, D.C., to dine with and brief members of Congress and their staffs. There, he told lawmakers that he couldn’t say kratom is “entirely safe” but that it should remain available to the public as research continues.

“I want it to be accessible to everybody,” he said. “Always have.”

In a video recording distributed by the American Kratom Association, Christopher McCurdy speaks to members of Congress and their staff during a briefing in 2024. American Kratom Association via YouTube

The following month, the AKA arranged for McCurdy’s travel to Little Rock, Arkansas, where lawmakers were debating whether to lift a kratom ban enacted in 2016. He told them kratom dependence was similar to caffeine dependence, describing withdrawal symptoms as akin to those caused by missing a morning cup of coffee. Kratom users have described dependence, so severe they suffer debilitating withdrawal symptoms and can’t quit the leaf. McCurdy has also said in a deposition that some users have been unable to stop taking it.

The lobbying was unsuccessful in Arkansas. But a few months later, with McCurdy’s help, the organization had its first success overturning a state ban. 

Rhode Island’s Gov. Dan McKee had vetoed a bill to legalize kratom after weighing the concerns of his top public health officials. The association booked travel for McCurdy and other scientists to Providence to brief those health officials. When the legislature reconvened in 2025, the AKA’s bill passed and McKee signed it. This time, the state health officials stayed silent.

That frustrated Rep. Michelle McGaw, a Democrat who is also a pharmacist. She opposed legalizing kratom, citing the threat to public health, but struggled to get her legislative colleagues to take seriously data showing kratom’s risks. “It has been a struggle, particularly in light of having kratom lobbyists finding ways with their own research or data to counter that narrative or try to confuse the narrative.”

Mac Haddow, the AKA’s lead lobbyist, said his organization relies on McCurdy and other scientists to provide accurate information but has “no control” over what they tell policymakers. “We think that science should dictate what the public policies are,” he said. 

Regarding McCurdy’s lack of disclosure that the association funds his travel, Haddow contends that beneficiaries aren’t typically required to reveal travel-related payments and said the association has never commissioned a study from McCurdy that would require disclosure.

Instead, the group has donated to the University of Florida’s foundation and has helped to underwrite McCurdy’s annual kratom symposium, attended by about 100 scientists, to promote research into kratom’s therapeutic potential. The AKA, through its nonprofit arm, the Center for Plant Science and Health, has donated more than $100,000 to the school.

McCurdy estimated while speaking to lawmakers in Georgia this summer that his research has been supported by $1 million from industry donations to the foundation.

McCurdy had not disclosed any ties to the industry on papers he’s published until Brandt, the Virginia pharmacist, spoke up in 2025. She provided one publisher with email correspondence she had obtained under public records laws revealing McCurdy’s ties to the association. The publication required McCurdy to append a correction to the paper that discloses his work as an expert witness in court cases, which he has done for both kratom companies and families bringing wrongful death claims. The correction doesn’t mention his work with kratom industry lobbyists. 

Rules for disclosure vary depending on the scientific journal. But the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors, which recommends publishing standards, requires reimbursed travel to be disclosed for research submissions. 

Such information is important to understanding the validity of research, said Ivan Oransky, executive director of the Center for Scientific Integrity. 

“It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust anything that’s funded by industry,” Oransky said. “It’s part of knowing the whole picture.”

Oransky said giving to a university foundation instead of directly funding research is similar to a business using a shell company to conceal its true ownership. Such a donation might not trigger disclosure the way sponsoring a specific study would.

“These things are technically legitimate but not intellectually honest,” Oransky said of McCurdy’s funding sources. “It’s obscuring what’s really happening.”

McCurdy did not list any travel in his conflict of interest statements required by the University of Florida. The university requires disclosure if travel exceeds $5,000 in a calendar year. The total value of the travel reimbursed by the AKA is unclear, and neither McCurdy nor the association responded to questions about how much was spent. 

A university spokesperson said a review of McCurdy’s university disclosures “found no indication of non-compliance.” The spokesperson did not reply to a question about whether McCurdy’s travel totaled less than $5,000.

In an email to a university colleague, McCurdy said he sees talking to policymakers for the AKA as “part of my work related expertise and education of the public and policy makers,” which does not need to be disclosed.

A bearded man in a lab coat handles a large Ziploc bag full of dried and ground-up plant material.
A hand wearing a purple glove holds four capsules containing a yellowish powder.
University of Florida professor Christopher McCurdy holds kratom, a drug that he has advocated for keeping legal. Dirk Shadd/Tampa Bay Times via ZUMA Press

The AKA does not support the sale of all products derived from kratom. More recently, McCurdy has sounded the alarm on new kratom derivatives, such as MGM-15 (dihydro-7- hydroxymitragynine), MGM-16 (9-fluorodihydro-7-hydroxymitragynine), and MP (mitragynine pseudoindoxyl), which the AKA is trying to have banned. This has involved drawing a bright line between whole-leaf kratom — generally the products sold by the vendors that fund the association — and its new derivatives, which have been described as more potent than morphine.

This summer, McCurdy told a committee of Georgia lawmakers that such derivative products have a high potential for abuse and are causing deaths in his state. “These are the things that are really scary to me,” he said. “These synthetics are far from kratom, they are derived from kratom, but they are not kratom at all.”

The DEA cited McCurdy’s research in its recent notices seeking temporary classification of some derivatives as Schedule I drugs. In a news release, the DEA specified the classification does not apply to “botanical kratom products,” such as the ones McCurdy has sought to protect from scheduling.

But whole-leaf kratom — the natural product and its extracts — has also led to dependence and death, according to McCurdy’s own research.

In 2022, he co-authored a review of medical literature that found cardiovascular, neurological and psychiatric adverse events from kratom use and emphasized an “urgent” concern about babies born experiencing withdrawal after exposure to kratom in utero.

In 2025, he co-wrote a paper analyzing kratom-related deaths in Florida from 2020 to 2021, well before the more dangerous derivatives came on the market, that concluded dozens of people “died of kratom (mitragynine) exposures alone.”

When talking to policymakers, McCurdy stays largely silent on these findings.

McCurdy told ProPublica he doesn’t contend kratom “is without risk” and that his findings on its dangers should “be taken seriously.”

“At the same time, the existence of risk does not by itself answer the policy question of whether a substance should be prohibited,” he said. “My scientific assessment has led me to support appropriate regulation, including manufacturing and labeling standards, age restrictions, and safeguards addressing products that present materially different risks.”

When pressed by lawmakers on the danger, he answers that any substance can be dangerous at the right dose, including caffeine and water.

“There is such a thing as water intoxication that can cause death, and does cause deaths every year,” he told a lawmaker in Arkansas in 2024. “But we don’t ever think about banning water or making it illegal. It’s an essential part of life.”

The post The Scientist Trying to Keep Kratom Legal Has Not Disclosed Longstanding Ties to Kratom Lobbyists appeared first on ProPublica.

Help Us Investigate Abusive Coaches in Youth Sports

A photo collage features a heavily pixelated image of a volleyball team huddling together, set over a background showing an indoor volleyball match on the left and players reaching up near the net on the right.
Photo illustration by Lisa Larson-Walker/ProPublica. Photos by Sarah Blesener for ProPublica.

For more than a year now, I’ve been investigating how youth sports organizations have failed to protect kids from sexual abuse, and the gaps in the system that have allowed coaches banned for misconduct to keep working with young athletes. 

So far, I’ve shown that one major nonprofit sports organization, the Amateur Athletic Union, has become a haven for coaches accused of abuse. I identified eight coaches who are still working with kids under the AAU despite having been banned by SafeSport, a center created by Congress to protect kids from abuse in sports that has a public list anyone can check. The AAU has said it does not comment on individual cases but in a statement said that it is “committed to protecting its athletes through comprehensive protection policies overseen by our Compliance Department.”

I also told the story of a Texas volleyball coach named Ryan Richardson, who continued coaching despite having been banned by SafeSport and is now under investigation by the Department of Homeland Security. Richardson did not respond to multiple requests for comment on ProPublica and The Washington Post’s reporting, or an email seeking comment about the Homeland Security investigation. When he was first suspended in 2024, Richardson told the local news website MyRGV that complaints about him were an effort to “retaliate and defame someone’s character,” and he said he “would never do anything to risk the physical or mental wellbeing of these strong young ladies.” 

I’m still reporting, and I want to hear from you. 

I know these are sensitive topics that can be difficult to discuss. I also know how important these stories are. If you know about a coach on the SafeSport list who is still working with kids, or you have other experiences with how youth sports organizations have handled abuse allegations, please fill out our brief questionnaire

I’m particularly interested in:

  • Finding instances of coaches who are continuing to work with kids after being banned by SafeSport. 
  • Better understanding how abusive coaches manipulate and deceive parents.
  • Learning about coaching abuse, safety and misconduct in basketball, in which SafeSport has far less influence compared with many other popular youth sports.

We take your privacy seriously and will contact you if we wish to publish any part of your story.

The post Help Us Investigate Abusive Coaches in Youth Sports appeared first on ProPublica.

Homeland Security Opens Child Exploitation Probe Into Banned Texas Volleyball Coach

A collage featuring a photo of a man wearing a baseball cap spotting a weighted bench-press bar for a teen girl, who has been covered with an opaque white marker scribble, next to a large black-and-white graphic of a Homeland Security Investigations badge on the right.
Photo illustration by Lisa Larson-Walker/ProPublica. Photo via Instagram.

A Texas volleyball coach who was the subject of an investigation last month by ProPublica and The Washington Post is now facing a federal child exploitation probe, according to an agent for Homeland Security Investigations, the main investigative arm of the Department of Homeland Security.

The ProPublica and Post story detailed how Ryan Richardson continued to coach teenage girls for years at his gym in Pharr, Texas, amid allegations of misconduct, even after he was suspended in early 2025 and subsequently ruled “permanently ineligible” this February by the U.S. Center for SafeSport, an oversight group. On its public disciplinary list, SafeSport said it found that Richardson had an intimate relationship with a minor, committed sexual misconduct involving a minor, and engaged in physical misconduct and bullying. 

Juan J. Flores Jr., a supervisor in a Homeland Security Investigations unit that focuses on child exploitation in the Rio Grande Valley, told ProPublica and The Post that he had launched the probe into Richardson in response to the story, which included allegations from a parent and former players that he had a sexual relationship with a 16-year-old player beginning in 2022 and that he groomed and emotionally and physically abused others. 

“My plan is to turn over every rock, have every conversation. I know he’s still coaching,” Flores said. 

Richardson did not respond to multiple requests for comment on ProPublica and The Post’s reporting or to an email seeking a comment for this story. When he was first suspended in 2024 by Lone Star Region Volleyball, the organization overseeing volleyball in Texas, Richardson told the local news website MyRGV that complaints about him were an effort to “retaliate and defame someone’s character,” and said he “would never do anything to risk the physical or mental wellbeing of these strong young ladies.” 

A spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security said HSI was “a global leader in the fight against child exploitation” but said it was “unable to confirm or deny any ongoing investigations.”

ProPublica and The Post published excerpts of Snapchat messages between Richardson and a former player, including from August 2022, when the girl was 16. In those messages, Richardson and the girl said “I love you” to each other and planned when they would next meet up. In a message in May 2023, when the girl was 17, Richardson wrote, “I don’t like that we are only sex right now so I really would love to get past this high school Shit when you are on your own pretty much.” The Snapchat messages were part of an investigation conducted by SafeSport.

The mother of the former player, Maggie Gutierrez, said that in the summer of 2022, she discovered Richardson alone with her 16-year-old daughter in the darkened back room of his gym, which at the time contained a twin mattress. Richardson turned his back to her and appeared to be tying up the string of his pants, Gutierrez said. At the time, Richardson and Gutierrez’s daughter denied anything inappropriate had happened. (ProPublica and The Post, which do not name alleged victims of sexual abuse without their consent, are referring to Gutierrez by her maiden name to avoid identifying her daughter, who declined to be interviewed.) 

Gutierrez went to the police in both Pharr and McAllen in early 2024, she told ProPublica and The Post, after her daughter’s college volleyball coach told her that he believed Richardson and her daughter, then 18, were dating. 

She said police declined to pursue the case because her daughter was a legal adult and did not want to speak to police officers.

Police in both jurisdictions denied records requests from ProPublica and The Post by citing an exemption under state privacy statutes, but the news organizations obtained excerpts from the police report in McAllen. In the text, an officer described meeting with Gutierrez at the McAllen police station.

The officer wrote that due to Gutierrez’s daughter “being 18 years of age, which as per Texas law is considered an adult and an age which gives her the right to consent, case would not be further investigated and closed.” 

Gutierrez then reported her concerns to Lone Star, the regional arm of USA Volleyball, which governs the sport. Officials referred the matter to SafeSport, which opened an investigation. 

Gutierrez spoke to the Homeland Security investigator last week, she told ProPublica and The Post. 

Flores said his inquiry would also involve looking into the actions of both police departments that declined to pursue a case against Richardson.

Police in Pharr and McAllen did not respond to requests for comment.

The post Homeland Security Opens Child Exploitation Probe Into Banned Texas Volleyball Coach appeared first on ProPublica.

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