Not that I agree with barebacking as a practice at all, but as a parallel, we have known for decades that smoking, eating excessive amounts of fatty foods and sitting on one's arse is the leading cause of cancer and cardiovascular disease as well as eventual mortality stemming from such, so why are there no hysterial talk on the part of Wente calling for those subpopulation to account for their sins? Here is what Margaret has to say on the matter:
No more guilty pleasures, the busybody state does not approve
Margaret Wente. The Globe and Mail. Toronto, Ont.: Jun 3, 2006. pg. A.17
All material copyright Bell Globemedia Publishing Inc. or its licensors. All rights reserved.
I detest cigarette smoke, but our creeping prohibitionism has long since crossed the line
I couldn't have known it at the time, but I was blessed to be a youth during those fleeting years when nothing was forbidden and all things were permitted. We smoked. We drank. We had unprotected sex with strangers. We ingested illicit substances, and when we got the munchies, we gorged ourselves on jelly doughnuts. We even seduced our professors, and vice versa. The dark cloud of AIDS was not yet on the horizon. We never gave a thought to secondhand smoke, sexual harassment, or our cholesterol.
'Twas bliss to be alive back then, and I pity all of you who weren't. My favourite line in poetry came from Blake: "Damn braces, bless relaxes."
It's all braces now. The list of prohibitions on correct behaviour stretches further than the distance that those wretched smokers are now obliged by law in Ontario to separate themselves from our office buildings, lest any wayward curl of deadly tobacco fumes contaminates the rest of us. No more sheltering from the icy blasts for them! Smokers have been banished from outdoor patios, too, even those that are well ventilated by the prevailing winds. If a patio has a roof, non-smokers are in danger. You can't be too careful about the definition of a roof. One umbrella on a patio is not a roof, but two umbrellas shoved together are a roof.
In case anyone has trouble keeping these new rules straight, a memo from our Human Resources Department assured us that the company will be monitoring the premises. The fines for non-compliance range from $1,000 to $100,000.
Personally, I detest cigarette smoke. I believe that everyone has an inalienable right not to be exposed to it against their will. The arrival of the smoke-free workplace was a triumph for human rights and simple common sense. But our creeping prohibitionism has long since crossed a line. Smoking bans are no longer about protecting non-smokers from the (highly exaggerated) dangers of secondhand smoke, although that is what we're told. They are really about punishing smokers. Instead of doing the honest thing, and just banning smoking altogether, the state will simply harass and marginalize the deviants until they quit.
This strategy is thought to be cruel and unacceptable when applied to, say, panhandlers or heroin addicts. But we don't think panhandlers and heroin addicts are a menace to society. We think smokers are. And so we are happy to deprive our wrinkled vets of the simple pleasure of sharing a smoke with their buddies in the Legion hall. Some people call that progress. I call it insufferable sanctimony.
Something has gone wrong when the busybody state can make an outlaw of Christopher Hitchens, the most entertaining public intellectual of our age. Mr. Hitchens was in Toronto a while ago, and packed a restaurant with his fans. He illicitly puffed his way through several dozen Rothmans Blues. I doubt anyone minded, but people worried we might get busted.
Mr. Hitchens has a theory about the progressive intrusion of the busybody state. "I think it's a mingling of the Puritan and in some ways the Catholic traditions. One is not allowed to let someone go to hell in their own way, so it is a religious duty in effect to intervene for their own good," he says. "It is overlaid now by the very sanctimonious idea that, if you can mention health and especially if you can get the word 'kid' into the same sentence, you are entitled to do anything. There is no privacy you can't invade."
Can the busybodies go any further? Of course they can, and they will. One town in California (the cradle of the non-smoking movement) has banned smoking altogether, except in the privacy of one's own home. Nobody complained. We are increasingly approving of the state's efforts to regulate our behaviour, even if it harms no one but ourselves. Besides, we like obeying rules. We're a nation of compliers. Have you tried crossing against the light lately? People shoot you glances that let you know you're doing something terribly thrilling and naughty, even when there are no cars in sight. That's exactly how Mr. Hitchens must have felt.
By the way, there's one big exception to this official demonizing of tobacco. And that's native tobacco. "Commercial tobacco is a KILLER! Traditional tobacco is a HEALER," announces the website of the Aboriginal Tobacco Strategy (
www.tobaccowise.com), which is sponsored by Health Canada. The difference between commercial tobacco and traditional tobacco is that traditional tobacco is sacred. It can be used to communicate with the Spirit World. You can also use it to offer prayers and treat illnesses.
I, too, used to use tobacco to communicate with the Spirit World, especially on deadline. But I guess that didn't count, because my tobacco wasn't sacred.
Perhaps the problem is that in a society that suffers from record health, lifespan, and citizen compliance, the authorities are simply running out of useful things to do. But doing useful things is their raison d'être. And so they busy themselves whipping up panics over increasingly marginal or non-existent threats to public safety. They harass smokers, ban bad dog breeds, banish Roundup, and wage campaigns against pop vending machines in schools. They mount awareness campaigns against the hazards of wearing scented deodorant in public. "Everyone should have safe and healthy places in which to live and work," concludes a City of Ottawa committee that wants to abolish -- well, in this case it's scented deodorant, but it could be any or all of the above.
Poor old Blake. These days, everything is forbidden and nothing is permitted. It all makes me very sad. I think I'll go outside and have a joint. I wouldn't have a cigarette. Too risky. You're a lot less likely to get busted for a joint.
mwente@globeandmail.com
AoD
