[Intl-tobacco] Japan: Get Off Those Sidewalks, Smokers, and Go Inside

[Robert Weissman]

New Yo
November 29, 2002

Get Off Those Sidewalks, Smokers, and Go Inside

By JAMES BROOKE

      TOKYO, Nov. 28 =97 In many countries, it is illegal to smoke
indoors, but legal to smoke outdoors. In Tokyo, people light up with
abandon in restaurants, taxis and many offices. But now on some
      congested downtown sidewalks, new red-and-white stencils mark
zones where it is illegal to smoke outdoors.

Health-conscious Americans might suspect the new rules are an effort to
shield nonsmokers from secondhand smoke, or to put a dent in cancer
rates.

But to Japanese critics, the new outdoor smoking ban suggests that
officials in this tidy nation worry more about singed suits than sooty lung=
s.

The new rules, which apply only to premier districts of central Tokyo,
are intended not to promote health, but rather to cut the litter of
discarded cigarette butts and to reduce damage to clothing on busy
sidewalks.

As much as a triumph of abstainers over smokers, the new laws also
reflect a rare victory for women in the country's subtle war between the
sexes.

Half of Japan's men smoke a pack a day, by far the highest rate among
major developed nations. In contrast, Japanese women, who like to
project an image of fresh-faced purity, smoke at the lowest rates
in the developed world =97 14 percent. They have supported the ban most.

"I saw a man's cigarette burn a woman's skirt once," said Kotoe Tamura,
a 31-year-old company worker. "She complained, but he ignored her, and
pretended nothing had happened. It was outrageous."

Speaking a block from the Ginza, Tokyo's top fashion street, she said
she welcomed the move to fine smokers on busy sections of the shopping
district. Inspectors in yellow jackets now hand out $20
tickets to smokers on downtown sidewalks.

But lurking in the shadows, a few yards from the no-smoking zone, were
the glowing embers of the hotaru-zoku, or the "firefly tribe," as the
smokers are known.

"It's minority rule," complained Wataru Otsuji, a 22-year-old salaryman,
his regulation dark blue suit disappearing into the evening dusk. "There
are more smokers than nonsmokers," he said, referring to
male smoking rates. "But the nonsmokers hate us."

Hideaki Osawa, a 57-year-old salaryman smoking nearby, agreed. Looking
around, he cautioned, "You have to be careful, or you will be penalized."

Only 20 feet away, at the exit of a subway stop, was a freshly painted
sign =97 a red circle and crossbar superimposed over the white outline of
a smoking cigarette. In each of the new zones, usually an
area of several city blocks, the no-smoking areas are around subway
exits and areas of heavy pedestrian traffic.

Tokyo's subway system, at 1,430 miles, is 5 percent longer than the New
York City system, but it carries eight times as many people each day.
Pedestrian gridlock occurs every morning when rush hour
trains unpack their millions.

Chiyoda, the downtown ward where the ordinance went into effect this
fall, has only 40,000 residents, but weekday commuters swell the
population to a million.

"As soon as they come out of the station, all the smokers start lighting
their cigarettes at once," Ms. Tamura said of the thundering legions of
men wielding lighters and matches. "Why can't they wait a
little more, until they reach their offices or somewhere they can
smoke?"

On Nov. 1, ticketing started to enforce the no-smoking ordinance, the
first in Japan to carry a penalty. Under the new rules, repeat sidewalk
puffers could find their names published in the newspapers and
face fines as high as $165.

On the appointed day, television news crews turned out in force, filming
smokers running down streets to escape inspectors. Some smokers who
stood their ground often used interesting language and
gestures not generally seen on television here. In the first two weeks,
inspectors handed out about 35 tickets a day.

"Manners in public spaces must come ahead of individual habits," said
Masami Ishikawa, mayor of the Chiyoda ward. The ward is the nation's
spiritual, political, commercial and media nerve center,
encompassing the Parliament building, the Imperial Palace, part of the
Ginza, downtown banks, hotels and companies.

A pack-a-day smoker himself, Mr. Ishikawa told the Nikkei Weekly
newspaper that he was unmoved by the alternative of smokers' carrying
portable pocket ashtrays, a common sight here.

"Chiyoda residents want the ward to become free of cigarette butts on
every busy street," the 60-year-old mayor added. "I hope the ordinance
will prompt new rules on the nation's smoking culture."

With the measure here winning widespread publicity, a host of other
cities across the country have contacted the ward government for advice
for their own outdoor antismoking laws.

But despite the annoyance of a $20 fine for smoking on a downtown
sidewalk in central Tokyo, Japan is likely to remain a smoker's
paradise.

The government earns $17 billion in taxes from cigarette sales, and a
"tobacco tribe" of lawmakers in Parliament makes sure that there is no
serious financing for antismoking campaigns.

Japan is the world's largest importer of cigarettes, about 83 billion a
year. Japanese smokers also pay the some of the lowest taxes in the
developed world, only $1.16 a pack. With 600,000 cigarette
vending machines operating nationwide, the $2 pack costs the equivalent
of eight minutes of work in Tokyo, compared with 20 minutes in Los
Angeles and 40 minutes in London.

Health advocates say the crackdown in parts of Tokyo may push some
smokers to quit. But they concede that it may also simply force smokers
inside, sparing dresses perhaps, but exposing others to
more second-hand smoke than before.