Smoking column

Good news: We get to smoke for free.
Bad news: We have no choice

By Brad Warthen
Editorial Page Editor

WHY IS it called "secondhand smoke"? What'’s "secondhand" about it? When I find myself gagging on it, and look around for the source, it'’s always coming straight from the cigarette. The smoker’'s not using the smoke first before sharing it with me. Most of the time, he'’s not puffing on the thing at all. He’'s just sitting there, letting the tendrils of carcinogenic particulates pollute the room.

Let'’s give smokers this much credit --— when they do take a pull on their coffin nails, they usually refrain from blowing it right in our faces.

So there'’s nothing secondhand about it. Those of us who "don’'t smoke" are getting the full, genuine, original article, fresh and straight off the rack. Face it, folks --— we’'re smoking. The good news is, we’re not even having to pay for it. The bad news is, we don'’t have any say in the matter.

Now, the term "passive smoke" makes some sense. When you consider that most people are "nonsmokers," but all of them at some time or other have to breathe the stuff anyway, it becomes clear that most who smoke aren'’t doing it on purpose.

Fortunately, the majority has in recent years become a lot less docile. As a result, fewer and fewer of us are forced to work long hours in smoke-saturated factories, stores and offices— the way I was when I first came to work at this newspaper, a fact that cost me thousands in medical bills (even with insurance).

Notice how often I’'m slipping into the first-person here. This makes me uncomfortable, which is why you’'ve probably never read an entire column from me on the subject of smoking, even though it has been for many years my bane. I'’m suspicious of other people who advocate things that would directly benefit them or some group they belong to, so I avoid it myself. When I wrote a column that dealt with my rather extreme food allergies, I spent much of the piece trying to rationalize my self-absorption.

But the subject of public smoking has been brought to the fore, and the time has come to speak out. There’'s a new surgeon general’'s report. The University of South Carolina has moved virtually to ban it. On the state and local levels, there are moves afoot to eliminate smoking from bars and restaurants --— the last broad refuges of the gray haze.

It’'s time to speak up. In fact, I wonder why the majority was so diffident for so long. I guess it was that classic American attitude, "Live and let others fill our air with deadly fumes." An anecdote:

A restaurant in Greenville. Our waiter came up and asked in a whisper whether we’'d mind if a gentleman who smokes were seated next to us. You see, he explained, the petitioner was in a wheelchair, and that was the only table available that would be accessible to him. Granted, this was the nonsmoking section, but if we could accommodate him....

Uh, well, gee. A guy in a wheelchair. Poor fella. It’s not like I can’'t smell the smoke from across the room anyway ("nonsmoking areas" are a joke). I started thinking aloud: "I suppose... I mean... if there is no alternative... I’'m allergic to it and all, but if you have to...."

At this point, the waiter began to back off, and said --— with a tone of deferential reproach that must have taken him years to perfect --— "That’s all right. I'’ll just ask the other gentleman to wait for another table."

Gosh. I felt like a heel. I pictured a hungry, forlorn, Dickensian cripple, waiting for some kind soul to let him have a bit of nourishment. Tiny Tim grown up, being dealt another cruel blow by life. As the waiter started to back away from our table, I was about to relent... when suddenly, a rather obvious point hit me: "Or," I said, "he could just not smoke."

Why did he have to smoke if he sat in the section full of people who had specifically asked not to breathe smoke while dining? Easy answer: He didn’'t. Nor did he need to spit, curse, pick his nose or break wind.

OK, I got off-message. It’s about public health, not offensiveness. As the surgeon general reported, even brief exposure to tobacco smoke "has immediate adverse effects" on the body. (I knew that before, since smoke causes my bronchial tubes to start closing the instant they make contact. I'’m lucky that way. I don'’t have to wait 30 years to get sick.)

But you know what? Even if it were only a matter of being offensive, even if it were nothing more than putting a bad, hazy smell into the air, there would be no excuse for one person imposing it upon even one other person.

We’'re not talking about one person'’s interests being set against another’s. It’s not in anybody'’s interests for anybody to smoke --— unless you make money off that human weakness.

Take that guy in Greenville. He was already in a wheelchair! I’m supposed to waive the rules so that he can make himself sicker, and us with him? What madness.

It’'s not even in the interests of many bars or restaurants --— although, if nonsmoking establishments become the norm, I can foresee a time in which there would be a niche market for smoking dens.

And I’'d prefer for the market to sort that out. I am no libertarian, yet even I hesitate to pass laws to ban smoking in public places. But the market has not addressed the matter to the extent you would expect. Why?

Richland County Councilman Joe McEachern says a restaurateur recently told him, "Joe, I’ve got some great customers who are smoking; I can’t personally put up a sign that says ‘'no smoking.’'" But if there were a law, his business would benefit because the demand for clean-air dining is greater than he can meet now: "I can'’t get enough room for nonsmoking."

OK, so if most people don'’t smoke, and it'’s to everybody’'s benefit to clear the air, why can'’t we work something out?

Maybe this is why: I still feel kind of bad about the guy in the wheelchair. But I shouldn'’t.