Sometime near the end of last year, The Baker Orange ran a column by the now-graduated JJ DeSimone in which the author decried a then recently-passed smoking ban in Lawrence as an infringement on the rights of smokers.
As a non-smoker, who had considered the smoking ban in Lawrence to be a great triumph, I did not want to agree with him. But I also knew the columnist had a point.
Although I personally find smoking disgusting, I have often asserted that smokers have rights too, and should no more be forbidden from partaking of their drug of choice than beer drinkers or coffee addicts. If a bar owner wants to allow smoking in his bar, for example, why should he or she not be allowed to do so?
It was not until summer vacation that the answer hit me. After spending the first few hours of each day shivering in the air-conditioned “comfort” of my office building, I would go outdoors for lunch, hoping to warm up and enjoy the fresh air.
My alfresco hour with a book and ham sandwich, however, was invariably cut short as the smoke of a nearby cigarette drifted across the courtyard toward me.
After holding out for several minutes, hoping the smoke would go away, I usually gave in and went inside grumbling to myself about the smokers’ insensitivities.
Having to repeatedly alter my plans to avoid feeling and smelling like an ashtray, I realized smokers are not the ones who need to be defended. As one who tends to take up the case of the downtrodden, I had tried to protect the rights of the minority group (smokers), when in fact, I was the one who needed an advocate.
When I took Baker’s contemporary minority literature class we discussed that the terms “majority” and “minority” are not defined merely by numbers but by who holds power. As smoking in public imposes the will of the smoker upon everyone around him or her, one smoker can hold power over an entire group.
People have rights only insofar as those rights do not conflict with the rights of others. In this case, the right to smoke comes into conflict with the right to breathe clean air. It is, in essence, the struggle between one’s right to destroy his or her own health and other people’s rights to preserve theirs. Drunk driving presents a similar conflict of interests, and in this case we see clearly that the rights of the endangered take precedence. The same should be obvious for the matter of public smoking.
The situation, of course, is different if no non-smokers are present, or if they are present completely by choice. When smokers are among their own kind they should be free to blow smoke in each other’s faces if they choose.
Thus, my primary argument against the Lawrence smoking ban: What about public situations that are not entirely public? If a bar or restaurant owner wishes to allow smoking in his or her establishment, those who wish to avoid the smoke may simply refuse to patronize the business.
I brought this issue up in discussion with my parents over the summer. My dad pointed out that smoking affects not only the patrons, but the workers as well. A person working in such an environment may not be able to give up his or her job simply to seek one with more suitable working conditions. A smoking ban helps protect these people.
This protection is the point of the smoking ban. As I have come to realize, it is not those in the smoking minority who need anyone to defend them. Their right to smoke intrudes on others’ rights to health and, simply, to breath. It is the non-smokers who need the city to step in and change things.
So thanks, Lawrence, for taking this important step. And thanks, JJ, and smokers from my summer workplace, for making me realize that it was the right step to take, however indirectly and involuntarily you may have done so.