I remember walking at the beginning of this semester to the plaza behind Altschul Hall for my customary smoking break and discovering, to my horror, that someone had removed the ashtray. The elimination of the smoking space at Barnard—the one beautiful sanctuary I held on to for the past three years—was already taking place. This is a defense of Barnard’s smoking areas from a smoker on campus. Allow me to kindle your interest.
The Barnard campus is technically smoke-free, with the exception of two smoking areas—one next to the Quad and a more secluded plaza north of Altschul. The Student Government Association recently sent students a link to an online poll regarding the potential obliteration of these smoking areas, allowing us to explain our reasons for or against it. That was when I discovered a serious flaw in the argument presented by the Barnard administration. The ban, apparently, is being considered “in recognition of the serious public health consequences of smoking and second-hand smoke.”
First of all, the point of smoking areas is to contain the tobacco fumes in a space where non-smokers are unaffected. As James Dawson pointed out in his column a few days ago, designating smoking areas “makes sense for everyone at Columbia because it fosters common ground, bringing benefits for both smokers and nonsmokers.” And the two small plazas at Barnard should remain smoking areas due to their perfectly secluded locations (good for non-smokers) and convenience (for Barnard smokers who have to run across campus).
The argument for public health, in this case, is unfortunately incoherent. If the Barnard administration truly cares about public health, it should consider distributing nicotine gum to current smokers and helping them quit, or even holding mandatory seminars on responsible etiquette for smoking in public to the reduce risk of second-hand smoke. Simply getting rid of smoking areas on campus only makes it harder to be considerate of others if we must resort to smoking outside. For example, smoking on the sidewalk of Broadway, where not only students but residents of Morningside Heights including small children and infants pass by, subjects many more people to smoke. In this respect, the relatively isolated area next to the Quad scores higher than the ashtray outside the gates.
On the other hand, if Barnard just doesn’t want to have the reputation of fostering a smokers’ community, by all means the ban should be enforced. But masking this with “public health” reasons is just heavy makeup to the administration’s aims and makes one wonder what the administration means every time it refers to “public health” in other contexts.
Furthermore, smokers aren’t as ignorant as many seem to think. It is inconceivable that smokers today, especially in an educated community, are unaware of the serious health consequences of smoking. Of course, I know it’s bad for my health. But I also know that smoking is a delicious and rewarding pleasure that might seem unreasonable to many but in this respect is no different from any other kind of pleasure. As Kurt Vonnegut wrote, “Smoking is a fairly sure, fairly honorable form of suicide.” His black humor aside, the man raises an interesting point with which Mario Vargas Llosa, the Peruvian novelist and a Nobel laureate, agrees by calling this act of slow suicide “a choice that ought to figure on the list of basic human rights.”
You can tell me that it’s simply a chemical addiction, a false cure for temporary stress, or a stupid attempt to look “cool.” But I made a choice. And all I’m asking for is a space where I can exercise this choice responsibly. The smoking area is a safe space for smokers to not feel completely ostracized in the growing population of anti-smokers, to not bother non-smokers and worry them with second-hand smoke, and even an opportunity to make friends with strangers who would otherwise never talk to you.
I’m not defending smoking; I’m defending the educated smokers’ right to choose to smoke, the right to exercise responsibility upon making that choice, and most importantly, the preservation of Barnard’s safe space on campus—for both smokers and non-smokers.
The author is a Barnard College senior majoring in philosophy. She is a former Spectator columnist.

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