Stubbed Out Beijing's Smoking Ban Proves a Damp Squib

Sadly, but quite predictably, Beijing's ambitious attempt to ban public smoking has already been crushed underfoot like a lifeless Hongtashan butt. While government offices, schools, and hospitals will supposedly be smoke-free zones from this month onwards, bars, cafes and restaurants will still allow patrons to light up in much the same way as before. The nation’s No. 1 addiction proved too strong, even for the pre-Olympic new broom.

Having just returned from a trip to the wide expanses of the Inner Mongolian desert, I can safely report that the cigarette is still as much part of adult Chinese male life as shiny black loafers and belt-attached cell-phone pouches. Two hours in a hard seat compartment and I felt (and smelt) like I’d been living next to a coal-fired power station for a couple of years. A common Chinese expression runs roughly along the lines of, “Men who don't smoke will never reach the top of the world,” but I didn’t see too many world-beaters in my particular carriage.

Many of my fellow expats believe that the severity of Beijing’s air pollution means that not to smoke would be pointless—why worry about a few Zhongnanhai Lights when you’re breathing in a noxious cocktail of gases and particulates? Actually, this line of reasoning is hogwash, with medical experts estimating that the worst air pollution increases the risk of contracting lung cancer by a minute fraction compared to puffing away on a pack of sin sticks every day.

As a former smoker myself I’m always reluctant to bitch about other cigarette smokers, especially if they’re less than wealthy and clearly in need of some kind of chemical fix to make the day a little more palatable. However, there’s no doubt that China's predilection for tar and nicotine can be extremely vexing on occasion, especially in the confined quarters of a taxi, elevator, or squash court changing room.

Although a few Beijing coffee shops have introduced no-smoking zones, these usually consist of a few tables in a dark alcove where the waitress ventures once every twenty minutes. It clearly makes more business sense to keep the 70 percent of Chinese men who smoke happy, rather than cater to the whims of some western softies who should know better than to expect to eat and drink in a clean air environment. The number of Chinese restaurants I've encountered that offer no smoking areas can be counted on one hand.

Personally speaking I hope that this month’s ban will go some way to cutting the numbers of Chinese smokers, for their sake and mine, but it would be naive to expect any kind of major impact. With the cigarette now as firmly rooted in Chinese culture as rice or the mobile phone, it seems the best we can hope for is a little more segregation from enlightened café owners.