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In 2015, Uruguay co-sponsored a resolution calling upon the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) to prepare a report ‘on the impact of the world drug problem on the enjoyment of human rights.’16 In its contribution to OHCHR preparations, Uruguay laid out its stance regarding the primacy of human rights:

Uruguay’s ability to move forward with a policy clearly beyond the bounds of the UN drug treaties owes to a combination of factors. First, Uruguayan authorities foresaw the international criticism their move would likely trigger, and fashioned an argument based on human rights obligations that was consistent with the country’s international reputation, and that was coherent with the country’s rationale for revising its cannabis law in the first place. Second, as a practical matter, the UN drug control treaty bodies, including the INCB, do not have the kind of enforcement authority or practical political power that would be necessary to prevent Uruguay from moving ahead with implementation of its new law. Countries such as the United States have historically wielded their political influence and power to encourage full implementation of the drug treaties. However, with Uruguay’s law entering its fifth year since passage, there has not been a concerted U.S. government effort to punish Uruguay bilaterally or in an international arena, suggesting that Uruguay’s reforms will not be stymied because of international pressures. In this regard, Uruguay has taken advantage of felicitous timing, with its law’s passage having come in the midst of a major shift toward cannabis regulation within the United States. After the November 2012 ballot initiatives to legalize cannabis in the states of Colorado and Washington, U.S. President Barack Obama’s administration adopted a policy of conditional accommodation of state-level cannabis legalization, contained in Justice Department enforcement guidance known as the “Cole Memo.”18 This accommodation provided Uruguay a political cushion internationally, just as the Uruguayan parliament was preparing to approve the country’s cannabis reform.
In the wake of the Colorado and Washington ballot initiatives, the U.S. federal government was suddenly in an awkward spot. The United States was the key architect and for decades the chief enforcer of the UN drug treaties, including vigorous enforcement of the global prohibition on non-medical uses of cannabis. To oppose Uruguay’s new law or even pressure Uruguay to revise or annul it—as it is easy to imagine previous administrations attempting to do so—would open the United States to charges of hypocrisy.

One was to re-acced with a reservation like Bolivia:

Another suggestion was a convention between the cannabis-legalizating countries

In 2015, Uruguay co-sponsored a resolution calling upon the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) to prepare a report ‘on the impact of the world drug problem on the enjoyment of human rights.’ In its contribution to OHCHR preparations, Uruguay laid out its stance regarding the primacy of human rights:

Uruguay’s ability to move forward with a policy clearly beyond the bounds of the UN drug treaties owes to a combination of factors. First, Uruguayan authorities foresaw the international criticism their move would likely trigger, and fashioned an argument based on human rights obligations that was consistent with the country’s international reputation, and that was coherent with the country’s rationale for revising its cannabis law in the first place. Second, as a practical matter, the UN drug control treaty bodies, including the INCB, do not have the kind of enforcement authority or practical political power that would be necessary to prevent Uruguay from moving ahead with implementation of its new law. Countries such as the United States have historically wielded their political influence and power to encourage full implementation of the drug treaties. However, with Uruguay’s law entering its fifth year since passage, there has not been a concerted U.S. government effort to punish Uruguay bilaterally or in an international arena, suggesting that Uruguay’s reforms will not be stymied because of international pressures. In this regard, Uruguay has taken advantage of felicitous timing, with its law’s passage having come in the midst of a major shift toward cannabis regulation within the United States. After the November 2012 ballot initiatives to legalize cannabis in the states of Colorado and Washington, U.S. President Barack Obama’s administration adopted a policy of conditional accommodation of state-level cannabis legalization, contained in Justice Department enforcement guidance known as the “Cole Memo.” This accommodation provided Uruguay a political cushion internationally, just as the Uruguayan parliament was preparing to approve the country’s cannabis reform.
In the wake of the Colorado and Washington ballot initiatives, the U.S. federal government was suddenly in an awkward spot. The United States was the key architect and for decades the chief enforcer of the UN drug treaties, including vigorous enforcement of the global prohibition on non-medical uses of cannabis. To oppose Uruguay’s new law or even pressure Uruguay to revise or annul it—as it is easy to imagine previous administrations attempting to do so—would open the United States to charges of hypocrisy.

One was to re-accede with a reservation like Bolivia:

Another suggestion was a convention between the cannabis-legalizating countries:

However the Canadian government [for now] seems undecided what [else] to do, beyond openly admitting its [technical] non-compliance.

And there's some Canadian precedent for going that route:

Professor de Mestral pointed to Canada’s experience with the 1970 Arctic Waters Pollution Prevention Act, which asserts the Government of Canada’s jurisdiction over the navigation of international shipping through Arctic waters. He noted that the Act generated an “extremely negative” reaction on the part of the international community, including several protests from allies, as it was in apparent contravention of international law governing freedom of the seas. In drawing conclusions about this experience, Professor de Mestral noted:

We built a consensus, the third Convention on the Law of the Sea gave us a platform where we were able to make our arguments successfully that change was needed. But clearly in the face of protests, Canada simply said, “We will not go to the international court on this issue. We believe we are right. We believe that change has to be made to international law, and we’re prepared to do it with like-minded states. I guess that may be what Canada will have to do.”

However, with regard to cannabis, the Canadian government [for now] seems undecided what [else] to do, beyond openly admitting its [technical] non-compliance.

The Canadian discussions also covered various solutions.

One was to re-acced with a reservation like Bolivia:

Your Committee heard about the experience of Bolivia. According to Mr. Jelsma, in January 2012, Bolivia withdrew from the 1961 Single Convention after failing to obtain a reservation from the criminalization provisions of the treaty for the traditional use of the coca leaf, which is protected in the Bolivian constitution. A year later, the country was able to obtain a reservation and re-acceded to the treaty.

Another suggestion was a convention between the cannabis-legalizating countries

Some witnesses discussed the option of inter se modification and the role Canada could play in its pursuit. Your Committee was informed that the inter se option would entail the negotiation of a side agreement on cannabis among like-minded countries that are parties to the three drug control conventions. It would also maintain “a clear commitment to the original treaty aim to promote the health and welfare of human kind, and to the original treaty obligations vis-à-vis countries that are not party to the inter se agreement.” This option is provided for in Article 41 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties.

However the Canadian government [for now] seems undecided what [else] to do, beyond openly admitting its [technical] non-compliance.