Posted on

Plain packaging of cigarettes: Good news for children and families

.

The 19th of May this year was a good day for individuals, children and families in this country and potentially around the world.

In a landmark ruling in the High Court, Mr Justice Green dismissed a legal challenge by the world’s four biggest tobacco manufacturers to stop the introduction of plain packaging of cigarettes in this country.

 

In his ruling, Mr Justice Green pointed out the weaknesses of the evidence put forward by the tobacco giants, and emphasised the damaging impact of tobacco marketing on both individuals and on our country:

 

“In the United Kingdom alone, 600 children every day are initiated into smoking. These are the future customers of the tobacco industry… [smoking generates] a vast financial burden for the state in terms of medical and care costs and it imposes, for those who succumb to tobacco-related illness, pain and suffering.”

 

This is a huge step forward. There seems to me little doubt that the tobacco companies themselves were convinced that branded packaging encourages more people to smoke, otherwise they wouldn’t have fought the ruling so vehemently. As one cigarette packet designer pointed out:

“A cigarette package is part of a smoker’s clothing, and when he saunters into a bar and plunks it down, he makes a statement about himself. When a user displays a badge product, this is witnessed by others, providing a living testimonial endorsement of the user on behalf of that brand and product.”

 

The UK now joins Australia and France in banning all branded packaging. Ireland, Hungary, Norway, Canada and New Zealand are set to follow.

Let’s hope the momentum will grow, and the tobacco companies and those who own and direct them will be increasingly exposed for the greed and indifference that compels them to keep producing and marketing their products, fully cognisant of the grief and suffering they bring.

 

Posted on

Big Tobacco: absolving the corporate conscience

 

After my enraged outburst against the seemingly callous indifference of the big tobacco companies to the immense suffering they cause to millions of families around the world, I decided I should do a bit more than just rant and rave.

So, taking a deep breath, I wrote to the chairs of the boards of the two big UK based companies, inviting them to come with me to meet some bereaved parents whose babies died suddenly and unexpectedly and for whom, their own addiction to cigarettes was undoubtedly a contributory factor. I didn’t expect anything great, but I felt that maybe, if they did accept and were to hear, first hand, these families’ stories, maybe, just maybe, it might touch something.

.

.

.

Richard Burrows: Chair of Board of Directors, British American Tobacco
Richard Burrows: Chair of Board of Directors, British American Tobacco
Mark Williamson Chair of Board of Directors, Imperial Tobacco
Mark Williamson Chair of Board of Directors, Imperial Tobacco

As I looked, on their websites, at the ordinary, human faces of the directors of these companies, I felt once more saddened and angry: surely, these were normal human beings, just like you and me, with friends and families whom they loved and cared for. And yet, somehow, these people could sit in their offices and corporate board rooms, thinking about profits and marketing strategies and all the other things that directors think about, while blocking off the death and suffering their products are causing.

After a long gap, I did hear back from the head of corporate affairs at British American Tobacco. Not surprisingly, they turned down my offer for a meeting with bereaved parents. As they pointed out, it is probably ‘not appropriate for us to play the role of adviser on public health issues.’

 

 

“We clearly acknowledge the reported risks related to smoking while pregnant and explicitly endorse the advice of health professionals such as yourself to refrain from smoking during pregnancy. We also agree that people should not smoke in the vicinity of children.”

– British American Tobacco

 

Imperial Tobacco has remained silent.

 

So does acknowledging the risks absolve the corporate conscience?

And meanwhile, while hundreds of babies die as a result of exposure to parental cigarette smoke, and millions worldwide suffer and die of diseases caused by tobacco, the corporate giants will continue to manufacture and promote their wares.

This coming week, the High Court in London will rule on a challenge by British American Tobacco PLC, Imperial Tobacco Group PLC, Japan Tobacco International and Philip Morris International Inc. against the UK parliament’s vote to ban branded packaging of cigarettes. If the High Court rules in favour of the government, this will come into effect in May next year, marking a huge step forward in the battle against tobacco, and following Australia who went that way in 2012 and have since seen smoking prevalence decline from 19.4% to 17.2% (with a quarter of that decline being attributed to the introduction of plain packaging).

I don’t know how much the court case will have cost, but I suspect it is not unreasonable to guess that hundreds of thousands of pounds of taxpayers’ money has been spent in fighting the challenge, money that could, instead, have been invested in health, education or welfare. And that, too, makes me angry.

 

 

Posted on

SIDS, restorative justice and big tobacco: why I’m feeling angry

The other day I visited a couple whose baby had recently died suddenly and unexpectedly. This family stood out as unusual in that neither parent smoked. The vast majority of bereaved parents whom I have visited over the past years have been smokers, and it seems clear to me that this is one of the biggest modifiable risk factors for SIDS.

In our South West study of sudden infant death in 2003-6, we found that 59% of mothers of SIDS infants had smoked during pregnancy, compared to just 14% of mothers whose babies had not died, equating to a 13-fold increase in risk[1].

SIDS and maternal smoking 2

And this makes me angry.

 

Not at the mothers or fathers who expose their babies to such risks, but at the callous greed and indifference of those who continue to produce and market the cigarettes that are killing these babies.

 

Over the past few months, Lois and I have had the privilege of visiting a local family assessment unit as lay chaplains. The families placed here for assessment come from a range of backgrounds, but all have been treated harshly by life, and the odds seem stacked against them and their babies. Every Saturday night many of these parents come to the chapel with their babies for a bit of space: away from the constant scrutiny and surveillance. Here in this sacred space they can be themselves. We have a laugh together, share some of Lois’ home baking, and join in a simple liturgy of reflection. Many of them ask us to pray a simple prayer of blessing over their baby: they, like all parents, long for their babies to have a better life.

After our time together, almost without exception, these parents congregate outside the chapel, with their babies, in the outdoor smoking shelter. We sometimes stop and chat a bit longer before heading off. And I feel angry. There in that shelter, these parents are slowly poisoning themselves and their babies.

 

But the parents themselves are victims: victims of the aggressive marketing of the cigarette companies that got them addicted in the first place; victims of a society that alienates and marginalises them; victims of their background and culture that leaves them feeling powerless to change, so that often the only solace they can find is in that little fix of nicotine and tobacco.

And meanwhile, the tobacco companies continue to produce their poison.

In 2012, 5,800,000,000,000 cigarettes were smoked globally.[2]

The WHO estimates that one person dies from tobacco every tobacco profits6 seconds; 10% of these as a result of exposure to second-hand tobacco smoke.

Meanwhile, the tobacco giants continue to rake in their profits. Jonathan Gornall, writing in the BMJ, cited operating profits of 9.2 billion pounds for Philip Morris International, and £6.1 billion for British American Tobacco.

 

 

 

When I sit down with a parent whose baby has recently died and they ask me that deep, deep question, ‘Why?’ I am sometimes tempted to cry out in pain, ‘Because of the greed and indifference of the chief executives, the board members and the shareholders of the big tobacco companies who have made you and your baby victims! Don’t ask me why your baby died, go and ask them.’

 

But surely those people, too, must have a heart, somewhere, that beats?

Is it too much to hope that somehow those hearts could be changed?

In his book The Book of Forgiving, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, with his daughter, Mpho, reflect on their painful experiences through their lives in South Africa, and particularly the Archbishop’s involvement in the Truth and Reconciliation commission. Back in the 1980s it seemed impossible to hope that the perpetrators of apartheid and the unjust systems of that country could ever change. And yet, they have found that through the hard, long road of restorative justice, people have changed; truth has come to light; and reconciliation has occurred.

Do I dare to dream of the possibility that just one of these CEOs, or a board member of one of the tobacco companies could one day accompany me as I visit a bereaved family; that they, too, could hear their story; and maybe, just maybe, a glimmer of compassion could be awakened in their heart?

 

 

 

 

[1] Blair, P. S., et al. (2009). “Hazardous cosleeping environments and risk factors amenable to change: case-control study of SIDS in south west England.” BMJ 339: b3666.

 

[2] Gornall, J. (2015) Slaying the Dragon: how the tobacco industry refuses to die. BMJ 2015;350:h2052