WELL, IT’S true all those old buffers at London’s St. James’ Club can no longer be old puffers. The after-dinner hand-rolled Havana is a thing of the past. Since yesterday, smoking in all public places in the UK is banned unless, they are “like homes” which, rather sweetly, includes Her Majesty’s prisons, army barracks and care homes. Nice to know one can, even still, smoke oneself to death.
It is hard to feel totally at ease with this law, smoking is, after all, a legal activity, and there is something undeniably pathetic about groups of grown ups huddled at the back of buildings by the rubbish bins and proverbial bike sheds like stray dogs. But last night, sitting in Casa Vieja in Nicosia, I wasn’t altogether comfortable watching a young woman, about seven months pregnant, light up a cigarette and deeply inhale. So I have to question my own logic, if I am unhappy to know a foetus is being exposed to the harm of passive smoking why am I not worried about non-smokers in pubs, clubs and public places? I suppose because as adults we have the freedom of choice on where we go and whom we go with.
In the UK they estimate that 17,000 children are admitted to hospital every year with breathing difficulties brought on by passive smoking, mostly in the home, and this is, of course, the argument. If we really care about passive smoking we should start with protection of the defenceless, which means our kids.
The Adoption and Fostering Agency in Britain is backing legislation that will ban smokers from its books so certain is it of the harm caused to children. Of course, ironically, by banning smoking in pubs and restaurants we may well encourage people to smoke more at home in front of their children and in smaller enclosed rooms.
This is the crux of liberal arguments, that our behaviour should be our own business but we should accept responsibility when that behaviour impinges on other people’s lives. Few would argue with the condemnation of drinking and driving, yet we are more reluctant to admit that smoking does damage to others, especially our children.
I have never lived anywhere where people smoke as much as they do in Cyprus. I have smoked more fags here in two years than in the rest of my life. I used to hate smoking but now I like it. I like smoking with a coffee and a drink. It makes me feel naughty. It makes me feel part of the place. I’m a total sucker for all those clich?s about peer group pressure, thinking I look cool and feeling acceptance in the group. I don’t want to appear a lily-livered killjoy. People here don’t drink as much as I’m used to so at least I can partake in one of the national vices and appear at home. Leaving Larnaca airport the other day the total acceptance of the habit was reinforced by seeing a group of Orthodox priests buying bricks of their favourite brand for journey’s end. Church approval.
So, maybe, we should suggest new marketing campaigns for the island: marriages with a Marlborough, puffing in Paphos, nicotine heaven in Nicosia. Sheds a new light on ‘pack’age tourism. “Light up on the island of love,” you can see the slogan already.
Or should Cyprus, which in many ways believes itself to be safe and socially responsible, follow the rest of Europe’s lead? Should we stub the habit out for a fag free future or remain the ashtray of the Eastern Med? Now let me just roll another while I think about it…
