The stickies must flow
China, the teens and the bootleg vape debate
I read Natassia Chrysanthos and Eryk Bagshaw’s Herald/Age feature about teenage nicotine addiction and the Chinese vape industry with interest this week, nodding sagely and exhaling large clouds of peach flavoured steam as I scrolled.
It’s a fascinating story for a number of reasons, not least of which is the image of workers at a Shenzen vape factory engaged in military style training, scaling walls and yelling, “Do not compromise, do not waver.” I for one welcome the brave cadres of the Lush Ice brigade. Crush those revisionist teens.
At this point I should probably mention that Eryk is a mate (who, in pre-lockdown days, was privileged enought to witness me mercilessly choofing my nicotine sticky). What I write here isn’t meant as criticism of the reporting, but rather the tone and terms of the debate about vaping in Australia.
From a personal point of view, one of the funny things about the article was seeing something that’s incredibly widespread, though clandestine, represented in the national media for the first time.
I started vaping as a way to stop smoking, and my first love was the Juul. But getting the pods in Australia was a hassle. Fortunately, I soon discovered that every tobacconist and convenience store in Sydney (except brands like 7/11) sell disposable vapes.
Here’s how it works. You walk in, ask the person at the desk if they’ve got vapes, they look around a little suspiciously and nod. An A4 card with all the flavours is face down on the counter. They turn it over. You point out the size (600-1800 puffs) and flavour you want. You hand over your $15, walk away and hit that baby til your temples hurt.
I’ve tried most of the flavours. Mostly I’m a peach ice man, but occasionally I’ll switch to blackberry for a bit of variety. The “ice” flavours combine the sickening sweetness of off-brand soft drink with the revolting freshness of a menthol cigarette. Yum.
But while I pretend to love the sticky, really I hate it. I’ve managed to be a little more mindful about my use lately, keeping it in a kitchen drawer rather than in my office, having a few puffs at a time, rather than choofing until my heartbeat is irregular and I have trouble getting to sleep. Even so, addiction is powerlessness. It feels bad.
Even worse is the knowledge that these things are an ecological disaster. Hundreds of thousands of plastic-encased lithium-ion batteries going into landfill. The world was probably better off with cigarette butts. But you tend not to think about that sort of thing when you’re jonesing for sticky.
When it comes to the teenage health portion of the article, I enjoyed this quote from former Kings School principal Dr Tim Hawkes, which manages to combine a powerful “how do you do, fellow kids” sensibility with underhanded elitism.
“What is happening in state schools, and indeed independent and Catholics is that students generally go to areas of the school at recess and lunchtime, or in free periods, and engage in vaping,” he said.
I mean, of course it’s happening at state schools, but at independent schools? Something really must be done.
I don’t have much else to say about teens and vaping. It’s easy to get into moral panic territory with anything they’re supposedly up to, but I think we can agree getting children hooked on one of the planet’s most addictive substances is not ideal.
The thing is, the situation we find ourselves in with the availability of these addictive, environment destroying, fruit-flavoured stickies is a direct consequence of the actions of the very people who decry them.
Simon Chapman, the emeritus professor of public health quoted extensively in the article, has spent years campaigning against e-cigarettes, despite the available evidence that they’re far, far better for you than the analogue variety. Addiction might not be a picnic, but it’s better than emphysema.
If it weren’t for Chapman and his ilk, Australia might have taken the approach of many other developed countries and regulated the sale of vapes as we do tobacco, allowing the collection of tax, the enforcement of age limits and regulations on stuff like strength, marketing and fruity flavours. We could have outlawed disposables and protected the environment.
But no, we ignored human nature in favour of puritanism. The end result is that the only thing standing between Chapman’s 11-year-old granddaughter’s friends and their lemonade vapes is a dude who’s paid $19 an hour by the very corner store owner who illegally imported the lemonade vapes in the first place.
Now this crew are worried about new regulations that will class e-cigarettes as medical devices available with a prescription. They think it might create a black market.
“The big fear with the October initiative is it could in fact backfire and result in a bootleg situation,” Hawkes told The Herald.
I’d say it’s a little late for that, wouldn’t you?
Sponsor me to run a long way
Five weeks until the Melbourne Marathon (which definitely ain’t happening). So instead I’m going to do a solo marathon to raise money for the Aboriginal Legal Service. For your enjoyment, I will wear a pair of obnoxious sports sunglasses. I’m also willing to take special requests (i.e. running with your dog, wearing a silly hat) in return for larger sums. Please consider donating, or just click the link to see the sunnies.