Denver’s vape madness | SLOAN

Kelly Sloan
Kelly Sloan
The New England Journal of Medicine — whose credibility on all matters medical approaches the unimpeachable — published a study last February, authored by 21 doctors and assorted medical researchers, which examined the utility of electronic nicotine delivery systems — known by us laymen as “vape products” — in helping people stop smoking. Bottom line: “The addition of e-cigarettes to standard smoking-cessation counseling resulted in greater abstinence from tobacco use among smokers than smoking-cessation counseling alone.”
In the same issue of that esteemed journal, Dr. Nancy Rigotti, director of the Tobacco Research and Treatment Center at Massachusetts General Hospital, Professor of Medicine at Harvard Medical School and internationally recognized expert on tobacco use and treatment, penned an article highlighting the findings, in which she wrote: “The available evidence indicates that switching completely from smoking combustible cigarettes to vaping nicotine e-cigarettes substantially reduces a person’s exposure to tobacco toxins, reduces respiratory symptoms, and reverses smoking-related physiological changes.”
Pretty persuasive stuff, and as far as data and evidence to inform public policy goes, about as good as it gets.
So of course, the fanatics among us are dismissing it out of hand.
The City and County of Denver — which is reflexively attracted to meliorist ordinances geared toward such things as enforcing self-improvement, social engineering and the happiness of geese (irrespective the derivative costs) — is contemplating a ban on the sale of flavored vaping products. The typical argument, ventilated in feverish tones, is flavors attract young people and banning them will dissuade teenage use. What the proponents of the ban have thus far failed to come up with is any set of reassuring statistics that indicate their ordinance will in fact deter teenagers from partaking.
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What the data do tell us is the loss of convenience and restriction of availability of what the medical profession classifies as an important addendum to the smoking cessation toolbelt could impede the progress of hundreds of adult Denverites eager for assistance in their journey to quit smoking and extend their own lives.
Then, there are the economic considerations. In his desperate search for revenue, Mayor Mike Johnston proposed a 0.5% sales tax hike for affordable housing, which was rejected by Denver voters, who have seldom met a tax hike of which they didn’t approve. The passage of this ordinance would force the closure or relocation of most, if not all, of the city’s 50 small, independently owned vape stores, which currently bring in around $13 million in city sales tax. Of course, they pay other taxes too — including to the state, which is staring down a billion-dollar hole in its budget.
The economic considerations quickly become moral questions, beyond the philosophical ones centered around the propriety of the government interjecting itself between a willing seller and a willing buyer. Admittedly, the injunction against that, even in a free society, has exceptions; but the businesses that would take it on the chin from the proposed ban are, for the most part, not the multi-national corporations that everyone loves to hate for some reason, but the proverbial “mom-and-pop” operations that politicians spend a great deal of time promoting as the backbone of any given community. Legislating vape stores — half of which are minority- or women-owned — out of business means lost paychecks, shattered livelihoods and uncertain futures for the families that run and work in these shops. The City of Golden passed a flavor ban last year, and three vape stores went out of business, their staff all suddenly unemployed.
Adding to the moral dilemma, we turn again to the adult smoker who, seeking to emancipate himself from nicotine’s grip, approaches the storefront to buy the mango e-cigarette easing his transition to a healthier life and, seeing it shuttered, despondently heads over to the 7-11 — to buy a carton of cigarettes. Meanwhile, the 17-year-old who is the supposed beneficiary of the “closed” sign is, instead, hitting up his older brother to buy him a pack of Lucky Strikes. This might explain why the City of San Francisco’s flavor ban caused youth cigarette use to increase more than 30%.
The prevention of youth nicotine use is a worthy and necessary cause, but prohibition doesn’t work. What would? The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports reductions in youth vaping during five consecutive years because small responsible vape store owners partnered with federal, state and local governments to implement reasonable guidelines and regulations, and increased taxes on vaping products while stores consistently and aggressively checked IDs. Vigorous programs precisely designed to reduce youth access, such as licensing requirements, marketing restrictions and accompanying enforcement have evidently worked to reduce use among young people and ought to be pursued as an alternative. These would be sensible policies; and the enemy of sensible policy is, of course, the politician and activist high on righteousness.
Kelly Sloan is a political and public affairs consultant and a recovering journalist based in Denver.

