It's mid-October, but still warm enough in my third-floor condo that I can leave the window open a sliver or two. I crave the slice of fresh air it provides. I still consider myself new here, having just bought the place back in August. I'm learning its idiosyncrasies: how far to turn the shower knob for ideal water temperature, which nights to listen for bell practice at the nearby church, how the paint colour changes dramatically with the light. These are sensory elements you can't figure out from a viewing or an open house, so you have to buy them sight unseen. Including the smells.
Sometimes, I get an overdose of perfume in the elevator, or burnt popcorn in the hallway. That's fine, I don't live in either of those. But that sliver of window does invite smells into my home, and it's particularly fond of second-hand smoke.
I, on the other hand, am not. And it's not just an olfactory dislike; it makes me sneeze so frequently and forcefully that I imagine I look like a rotating sprinkler head.
I usually don't react to second-hand smoke, but for some reason this particular brand affects me. I presume it's coming from somewhere below, but I can't pinpoint who the culprit is. Culprit. What a loaded word. I'm assigning guilt to someone who isn't legally in the wrong.
Legality aside, there's an ever-increasing conflict in our society between smokers and people who don't want to be subjected to second-hand smoke. What started as a slow movement of designated smoking areas in public buildings became a butt-kicking to the curb of many public and eventually private establishments, and has now reached the level of widespread smoking bans, indoors and out. The battle over where smokers can partake has become emblematic of a conflict of rights.
Perhaps that's not the best way to examine the issue though, lest we get bogged down in constitutions and charters. Perhaps viewing the conflict as one of opposing needs instead of rights provides if not a clearer picture, at least a more human one. Let's assume my neighbour has a need to smoke, and that I have a need for smoke-free air. The result of his or her need impacts mine.
This is by no means a conflict of needs exclusive to smokers and non. Rather, it's an issue demonstrative of a larger question. What happens when your need to X meets my need to not be subjected to a harmful byproduct of X? In most cases, the law solves the problem for us. You can drink, but you can't drink and drive because of the risk to everyone and everything in your drunken path. You can yell in a theatre, but you can't yell fire.
The effect of second-hand smoke is an issue that can be argued with facts and figures, but is framed largely by perceptions. Whether it's first-or second-hand, the issue has a history of shifting perceptions. The various ingredients and methods have changed over thousands of years, but it's in how people perceive it, its status in various cultures and societies, that we see its permutations. From its role in peace pipes meant to broker goodwill, to a mid-20th-century sign of chic and cool, to a current-day social stigma, the perception of smoking has a history of about-faces.
Perceptions don't alter the facts though. Just because the proven health risks of smoking didn't gain traction until the 1960s in North America, doesn't mean those risks haven't always been present. Nobody these days could argue against the effects of first-and second-hand smoke. Various studies have even linked smoking to negative impacts well beyond physical health, including as a predictor of divorce.
My Grandad was a longtime smoker (him and Nana stayed together until the end). As a kid, I didn't think anything of the smell of stale smoke in their house. To this day, it reminds me of hugs and loonies appearing from behind my ear. If I could go back and spend more time with him, I wouldn't ask or expect him to butt out. It was an earned, generational need.
Perhaps the smoker below me earned the need as well. Without that personal attachment though, I feel contradictory about it. Part of me believes my need to breathe easy is paramount. Part of me believes I should suck it up, so to speak. There's no apparent middle ground between our respective needs. One could argue I should close my window. Someone else could argue my neighbour should smoke out front of the building.
There are more arguments to make than those on both sides of the issue. Those against second-hand argue a case predicated on public health concerns. Smoking is optional, whereas breathing is not. Given everything we know about its harmful effects and its burden on the health-care system, health should trump the need for a nicotine fix. Pro-smokers say their rights are being eroded, that we're slipping down a slope into a nanny state that is trying to save us from ourselves. They argue there are many other optional activities that are a burden on the health-care system, so why not relegate them to the fringes, too?
On a global scale, it's by no means a new clash. Though the reasons behind the clashes have varied throughout history, be they based on religion (Mormons) or economics (land use), the health argument isn't a fresh one. In 1604, King James I of England wrote an anti-smoking treatise called A Counterblaste to Tobacco, which although based on faulty medical reasoning, nevertheless correctly posited that smoking was harmful. Thinking again of Grandad, he fought for England in World War II, and I sometimes wonder if that's when he took up smoking. Perhaps the most infamous anti-smoking campaign in history, and a potential argument-ender for pro-smokers, was the one waged by the Nazis. Unfortunately, evil doesn't mean unintelligent, as they were among the forerunners of research proving the link between smoking and lung cancer. Hitler himself had a violent dislike of all things tobacco, and until his death, smoking was condemned across Germany. Which is why I wonder if Grandad took up smoking with such virility, as an eff you to the F脙录hrer.
On a more granular scale, all I can do is consider the individual. The arguments for and against are made for groups, with the goal of supporting collective rights. It's easy to misunderstand and even marginalize people you don't know. I give my unknown neighbour the benefit of the doubt and assume that he or she isn't smoking to subject me to second-hand smoke, but rather because it's a need. And my need to have an open window and not sneeze isn't based on wanting to curtail his or her civil liberties or to stigmatize. In a situation like this, where law and policy are unlikely to resolve our conflict in a way that satisfies us both, there has to be another way. And I have a feeling it has to start with a hello, and lead to an understanding of our respective needs, as opposed to our rights.
TODAY: ASSIGNMENT 3
Today we present the results of the third assignment for the four finalists in So You Think You Can Write.
On this page, you can read Nick Clewley's entry When Needs Clash, which earned the highest score from our three judges. To read the other finalists' work and vote for your favourite, go to timescolonist.com/ writingcontest.
Their stories respond to the following challenge: Every conflict has a black side and a white side. It's in the grey middle where elements from each side are "correct" that the emotion lives.
Write a creative non-fiction piece about a real conflict from history, exploring that grey middle. It can be an essay from your point of view, a narrative, an opinion piece, etc. Choose any sort of conflict - for example:
? A war;
? The fight against polio;
? The impact of European settlement in British Columbia;
? Pepsi vs. Coke.
Two clear sides, but the piece should dive into the grey areas in between.
Word count: 1,000-1,500 words.
READERS' FAVOURITE: WEEK 2
This week's winner, Nick Clewley, also earned top marks last week from our judges. But you chose a different favourite. For the second week in a row, Fiona Luo won the readers' choice poll.
She received 52.32 per cent of the total 151 votes cast this week, followed by Clewley's 22.52 per cent, Pat Parker's 14.57 per cent and Frankie Blake's 10.6 per cent.
NEXT WEEK: ASSIGNMENT 4
Show Us What You've Got: 1,000 words max.
This is your chance to write how you want, about whatever you want. A poem, a short story, a piece of creative non-fiction - whatever you feel best shows off your talent.
Check next Sunday's sa国际传媒 to see the results.
