A writer named Richard Peterson has a "First Person" essay in today's Post Gazette. It recounts the horrors of growing up around all that poisonous second-hand smoke in the early post-war era. It talks about clouds of toxic smoke in bars. In cars. At the breakfast table. Here, there, everywhere. One lung, two lung, red lung, black lung.
But doesn't Peterson's account basically destroy the public-health case for the smoking bans? The Post-Gazette has fretted that working a shift as a waitress in a smoky bar amounts to "flirting with death." Certainly Peterson's constant "flirtation" would have sealed his fate. The Post-Gazette says there is no such thing as a safe level of second-hand smoke. If that is the case, wouldn't constant, chronic exposure from birth to adulthood amount to a sure death sentence? This does not escape Peterson, who writes:
Looking back on it all, I still believe I had a wonderful time growing up in Pittsburgh, but it's a wonder anyone from my generation is still alive. We weren't the greatest generation, but we were certainly the smokiest.
Well, Mr. Peterson, how do you explain that? How do you explain that not only you survived the flirtation with death, but so have millions upon million upon millions of other people from your generation? Perhaps the notion that brief exposure to second-hand smoke amounts to flirting with death is an exaggeration?
But don't worry. I think Peterson touches on the real reason for the ban here:
These days it's reassuring to know that today's generation is living in a city that's always contributed greatly to American history but now is also beautiful and healthy.
Beauty. Hmmm... A strange justification for invasive government policing. Especially when the "ugliness" is going on inside, in a place where no one is forced to go see it. But let's be honest, that's what this is really about. Aesthetic and cultural preferences--taste--disguised as hard science. By people who, in many cases, know exactly what they are doing. They don't like smoke. And they don't like other people smoking. So they are banning it.
In the meantime, Mr. Peterson, I congratulate you on surviving your terrible trial. And I urge you to think about your own question: Why DID you survive? And what does that say about this as a larger policy question? Is it really the health data driving your support?