I’m not a smoker — it’s not for me. When I turned 18, I went through a phase where I kept a cigarette between my lips because I thought it looked cool. I thought it would help enhance my rebel image and attract girls. But it was rarely lit, and when it was, I never inhaled. Nevertheless, I befriended authentic smokers outside buildings on cold days (when my breath was most visible) and cultivated relationships I maintain today.
While I prevent my friends from smoking in my car or apartment, I don’t scold them for their habit. They know it’s harmful. They’re aware of the side effects. They know it’s costly. They do it anyway, and although I care about their health, I care about our relationship too. Finger-wagging is a quick way to alienate them.
They smoke for any number of reasons, and they don’t need to justify it to me. If they wanted to quit, I would unquestionably assist. But like weight loss and alcoholism, the drive to quit generally comes from within, and unsolicited pressure can often do more harm than good. But this column isn’t about converting your friends — it’s about converting our campus.
Should smoking be permitted on-campus? Can a compromise placate everyone?
I sympathize with those impacted by a potential smoking ban. No one wants to be told what to do, especially if it’s something integral to their daily life. As someone who champions civil liberties, I was originally torn on the issue, but I have come to believe that AU needs to take steps to become smoke-free.
In late February, The Eagle printed an article about a fellow graduate student who’s taking matters (or butts) into his own hands. Noah Jacobs pledged to deliver 1,000 cigarette butts to AU President Neil Kerwin to illustrate a glaring problem. Jacobs is upset about AU’s lackadaisical enforcement of smoke-free areas. Therein lays the root of the problem: respect and consideration.
Many non-smoking AU students couldn’t care less whether their peers are permitted to light up between the library and Mary Graydon Center. What we are irked about is the littering of cigarette butts lining our path like the yellow brick road and the accompanied fumes. Aesthetics and clean air mean something to us. It’s a poor reflection of our dedication to a clean, green campus. It looks trashy.
Smokers aren’t stupid. They recognize second-hand smoke is a legitimate public safety concern. Non-smokers shouldn’t have to inhale the fumes anymore than you should have to listen to me blast Moby. I believe that’s why the 25-foot barrier was implemented between buildings and smoking areas. Unfortunately, there’s little (see, ‘no’) compliance and enforcement with these policies.
Let me return to the example of my friends and me. We coexist peacefully because we respect one another. I respect their decision to smoke, and stand on the opposite side of the wind when they light up. When they finish, instead of tossing their cigarette butts cavalierly on the ground, they discard them properly. It’s a fair system, everyone wins.
If smokers on campus were more conscientious and abided by the rules (including discarding butts) I wouldn’t advocate for its abolition. But when non-smokers rights are trivially discounted by arrogant smirks when they’re asked to move, and butts are carelessly flicked, we’re being blatantly disrespected. One thousand cigarette butts can attest to this.
If a student club or initiative began an effort to enforce the restrictions already in place, many non-smokers would be amenable to the (current) compromise. But if smokers continually dismiss the concerns of their peers, disregard signs, litter without abandon (like they’re presently doing), then they’ve earned the revocation of their right to smoke.
Conor Shapiro is a graduate student in the School of International Service and a liberal columnist.
