The world is black and white; the world is gray. The colours of the world are classed in fixed cubes; the colours of the world are found in a spectrum of radiance. It all depends on what we want: logical association with clear boundaries, or personalized definitions. The category of ‘social smoker’ fits in with the latter world: Currently, whether a social smoker exists or not is a highly debated topic. There is one camp that determines this ‘species’ of smokers do not exist, according to a 2010 CNN article. And because there are always two sides to every story, there is another camp that affirms its existence. The fixation with the social smoker, I think, comes from the fact that this species is analogous with exclusivity. That is, it is a fine line that determines whether one is in or not; it is a fine line whether one has graduated this, sometimes temporary, camp. There is a fixation on the social smoker because the character is fluid and ever changing; it can be argued that in order to be a social smoker, one is in limbo.
This, granted, is not a completely foolproof analogy. While some members of the social smoking club do graduate into the world of rather consistent nicotine inhalation, and while some quit, some continue, happy with their limbo; happy with their spectrum; happy with their relative lack of definition. Indeed, residing in a place of limbo is a rising trend in the United States. The same CNN article mentioned above, reports: “While the overall number of smokers in the United States is dropping, the proportion of occasional smokers appears to be on the rise.” The category of social smokers, then, seems to be gradually getting more consolidated in sociological notions—a reflection of a potential shift from cubes to spectrum.
However, while we accept the classification of social smoking, the description of it as a ‘trend,’ is problematic. Unlike the new Fall and Winter collections, it is extremely likely that social smoking is not, simply, going to go out of fashion. Rather than a trend, then, social smoking has become a lifestyle choice. The popularity of social smoking comes out of the fact that, in any given situation, one is given a choice whether to light up or not. Rather than having bodily urges to bring out that pack of Marlboro Reds, and rather than abstaining completely (while trying to ignore the incessant stream of smoke being emitted like a steaming kettle by the person next to you), the social smoker can decide whether a moment is right for smoking or not. Admittedly, the situation has advantages and disadvantages. Most social smokers claim they only smoke when with a group of friends or at a bar. They also claim to very rarely have the urge for a cigarette when they are alone, and feel no hesitancy if they were to quit permanently. With such flexibility in commanding situations, then, it is no wonder that this lifestyle choice is becoming so exponentially popular. Like I said, however, it is a fine line: you can’t force yourself into the club and you can’t be forced to stay—sometimes, you graduate without ever meaning to.
Another danger of social smoking, however, is that you forget the warning signs; they don’t apply. The labels on cigarette packets are glanced at nonchalantly upon buying a pack because, well, clearly they are not referring to us. Social smokers tend to think of themselves as all-knowing creatures. They’ve read the article; they know the drill. Most often, they are not the ones being cautioned to “calm down” on the number of cigarettes they inhale a day. They are the ones that know the statistics with a relative detachment: they partake only to a certain extent. They can, rather unabashedly, glance at the Financial Times article which discusses the warning labels on cigarette packets and nod knowledgeably when they read, “These warning labels are not meant to educate or convince people. They are meant to scare people, which is often the opposite of educating and convincing.” In essence, social smokers believe that they are the two sides to every story: they know the warnings, and they are not addicted. It is only when they have a beer, or three, that the temptation arises.
The problem with invincibility is that it doesn’t exist, no matter if we believe it does. We are not invincible; we can, and do, fail. The social smoker can, and indeed in most situations, does become a regular. Is this failure to remain a social smoker, and this failure to quit, a black mark, or perhaps a defining characteristic? I think not. I prefer the world as a spectrum rather than as a categorical cube. Ultimately, I am of the belief that smoking is not the worst thing in the world. I am of the opinion that simply not smoking does not guarantee that you will not be affected by lung cancer. I do believe that the slogan ‘Smoking kills’ is an ineffective way to stop, or reduce, smoking. It is invalid as it implies that the combination of nicotine, tar and tobacco is the only cause of premature death. On the contrary, continuously reusing plastic bottles, radiation from mobile phones, and standing in front of microwaves increase the causes of premature death by roughly the same amount. Social smoking, then, is not an exponentially greater cause of premature death. Ultimately, however, indulging in social smoking, like the other risks we take, has a cost we must be willing to pay because, most often, unlike the economy, there is no bailout.