The Indifferent Sea, Between Crozon and Westminster

And The New Morality of Nicotine: A Decade Between Science and Suspicion

Amid evidence, contradictions, and competing interests, France and the United Kingdom follow opposing paths in regulating vaping. A pioneer in harm reduction, the United Kingdom is backtracking under political pressure, while France moves forward with cautious steps, balancing pragmatic tolerance with lingering distrust.

Summer 2025 arrives in the Crozon Peninsula like a perfect postcard: the sea glistens in metallic blue, children build sandcastles, and families rest under brightly colored umbrellas.

But one detail interrupts the softness of the landscape; the setting is not just touristic, it’s also educational. On posts and fences, red and white signs warn beachgoers: no smoking here.

French civic pedagogy operates in the shadow of these signs—not strident, but firm. The €135 fine, negligible for some but a real blow to much of the working class, is rarely enforced because most comply without resistance. “It’s better this way. Nobody wants cigarette butts in the sand,” a woman told Le Télégramme on August 19, 2025.

The French decree reaches far beyond Crozon’s idyllic scene. It extends to parks, schools, bus stops, and sports facilities. In all these spaces, lit tobacco is banned. The electronic cigarette, however, is not.

That exception reveals an ambiguous policy. The electronic device is acknowledged as less harmful, but officials stop short of promoting it as a legitimate alternative. The contradiction is not just regulatory but symbolic: the difference is acknowledged, but its implications are sidestepped.

Municipalities apply the measure pragmatically. In Crozon and Camaret-sur-Mer, signs abound, and police presence is more symbolic than coercive: it’s about civic education, not targeted punishment. In other cities, where enforcement is unfeasible, the burden of compliance falls squarely on the citizens.

In official discourse, the measure rests on two pillars: public health and environmental protection. Secondhand smoke is a recurring argument, but so are cigarette butts—tiny, nearly indestructible residues that infiltrate beaches, rivers, and the stomachs of seabirds. Every extinguished cigarette contains heavy metals and persistent pollutants—toxic waste that, in its smallest form, reveals society’s broader failure to manage its own trash.

Vigilant France

Despite its calm appearance, France’s relationship with vaping is far from peaceful. Surveys by the Alliance contre le Tabac and IFOP reveal that 15% of teenagers aged 13 to 16 have already tried disposable vapes—though not necessarily as regular users. Among those who do use them, 43% say they would turn to traditional cigarettes if flavored vapes were banned.

For health authorities, this statistic serves as an uncomfortable reminder: the vision of a smoke-free future, as evoked by Minister Catherine Vautrin, collides head-on with reality—and with the growing popularity of cheap, colorful, flavored devices.

The scientific consensus, however, is (slightly) clearer. As Swedish researcher Karl Fagerström puts it: “Smoking, in any circumstance, is always worse than vaping.” Nicotine—even at high doses—carries far lower risks than tobacco smoke, which contains over 7,000 toxic substances from combustion.

That difference helps explain why, among adults, six out of ten French smokers turn to vaping when trying to quit. They report less fatigue, easier breathing, and financial relief. For them, vapor isn’t a threat—it’s an ally.

The government, however, sticks to its cautious stance: an unyielding fight against tobacco, paired with hesitant tolerance toward vaping. An uneasy coexistence: statistically half-embraced, institutionally eyed with suspicion.

Westminster’s Restrictive Turn

Roughly 150 kilometers from Crozon, across the English Channel, the landscape shifts.

In August 2025, The Guardian sounded the alarm: young people who use vapes were said to be “three times more likely to start smoking,” along with a list of supposed risks—asthma, mental health disorders, assorted complications. A catalog of fears.

The same report acknowledged that most of the studies cited were observational and didn’t prove causation. But the panic had already taken hold. Under media pressure, both the WHO and the UK’s Department of Health called for urgent passage of the Tobacco and Vapes Bill.

Westminster acted swiftly. By June 2025, disposable vapes were banned, flavors restricted, and packaging standardized. In official discourse, there was talk of a “youth nicotine epidemic”—a phrase that suggested chaos more than evidence. Policy took on a tone of dramatic performance: less a response to proven risk than a move to ease the diffuse sense that the country had lost control.

The paradox is striking. For nearly a decade, the UK was the global laboratory for harm reduction. Since Public Health England declared in 2015 that vaping was “95% less harmful than smoking,” the NHS incorporated it into cessation programs, hospitals began distributing it, and public campaigns encouraged switching from cigarettes to vapor.

The results were clear: in 2015, 17.2% of adults smoked; by 2022, only 12.9%. By 2025, projections place the figure just above 10%—a rare decline in the developed world.

Today, however, that model appears to be wobbling. Professor Ann McNeill of King’s College London dismantled the review underpinning the new law: 53 out of 56 systematic reviews were rated “low or critically low quality.” For McNeill, the problem is methodological: mistaking correlation for causation.

Ironically, population studies suggest the opposite: where vaping rises (even among youth), smoking tends to fall. But the scientific debate has been pushed aside by the momentum of political rhetoric.

Two Pedagogies in Tension

The contrast between France and the United Kingdom reveals not only divergent policies but also different forces at play.

In France, NGOs like the League Against Cancer push for stricter bans, accusing vaping of luring teenagers. The government responds cautiously: it acknowledges vaping is less harmful than smoking but resists endorsing it. It’s a policy of unstable balance—an ambiguity cultivated as a strategy.

In the UK, the logic flips. The NHS continues to support vaping as an effective cessation tool, backed by Cochrane reviews that confirm its benefits. But in Westminster, political panic prevails: disposable vapes—perfect symbols of modern waste—are turned into public enemies.

Thus, the contradiction deepens: in the UK, adults are encouraged to switch from cigarettes to vapes, while teenagers are caught between alarms and bans, amplified under the dramatic label of a “youth epidemic,” a caricature that hides more than it reveals.

In France, by contrast, tobacco remains the primary villain, while the e-cigarette occupies an uncertain space: silently tolerated, warily watched.

Between Science and Moral Panic

At its core, what unfolds is a clash of paradigms and interests.

On one side, the harm reduction paradigm: pragmatic, grounded in the understanding that nicotine is unlikely to vanish from human experience. It begins with the premise that insisting on utopia—total eradication—is neither a realistic public policy nor a viable health strategy. Instead, it calls for action grounded in reality: tolerating imperfections to save lives, even at the cost of legitimizing the habit of vaping.

On the other side, the paradigm of absolute precaution: rigid, driven by the promise of eradicating nicotine entirely—even if it means discarding tools that might, in fact, save lives.

Both approaches hold legitimate concerns. Tobacco remains the leading cause of preventable deaths in Europe, and dismissing vaping’s potential could prove costly. But it’s equally true that disposable devices exert an undeniable pull on teenagers.

Ultimately, the dispute isn’t purely scientific—it’s cultural, political, ethical, and economic. A battlefield where what’s at stake is not only the efficacy and relevance of public health policies, but how a society chooses to live with its own contradictions.

Meanwhile, on the beaches of Brittany, the sand is finally free of the cigarette butts once wedged between seashells and children’s sandcastles.

Across the Channel, the British Parliament gets tangled in heated debates over strawberry flavors and standardized packaging.

Europe seems suspended between two gestures: oscillating between the pedagogy of responsibility and the politics of fear.

The outcome of this swing will define not only the future of vaping, but also the capacity of democracies to navigate their contradictions without surrendering to hysteria.

The sea carries on, indifferent. But Europe’s governments can’t afford such indifference. The uncomfortable question lingers: will nicotine be regulated as an inescapable drug, or demonized as though human desire could be banned by decree?

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The New Morality of Nicotine: A Decade Between Science and Suspicion

• 2015 – Two Starting Points

  
  United Kingdom – Public Health England publishes a report that will become a global benchmark: vaping is “approximately 95% less harmful than smoking.” Thus begins the era of harm reduction. The NHS incorporates e-cigarettes into its cessation programs, hospitals begin distributing them, and national campaigns encourage switching from tobacco to vapor.
  
  France – The debate is still in its infancy. The government equates e-cigs with conventional tobacco: it restricts advertising, bans sales to minors, and avoids any gesture of encouragement. The device is approached with caution—more of a question mark than a solution.
  

• 2016–2019 – Diverging Strategies

  United Kingdom – Hospitals begin allowing vape use in outdoor areas. Local authorities form partnerships with shops, offering discounts and starter kits. The country cements its status as an international benchmark, celebrated as a pioneer in harm reduction.

  
  France – Santé Publique France focuses its efforts on youth prevention campaigns, while NGOs like Alliance contre le Tabac warn of the risks posed by appealing flavors. Social pressure mounts, but the government takes a cautious step: tolerate without promoting.
  

• 2020 – Pandemic and Distractions
  
  United Kingdom – Brexit and Covid-19 reshuffle the government’s priorities. Smoking loses political prominence, although the data reveal a historic drop: fewer than 14% of the adult population smokes. At the same time, and almost unnoticed, youth consumption of disposable vapes begins to rise—a sign that a new wave is on the horizon.
  

  France – The government tightens marketing restrictions, and the debate over banning disposables begins to gain traction. While the pandemic dominates public attention, surveys detect a modest increase in teen experimentation, keeping a lingering concern alive.
  

• 2021 – Institutional Ambiguity
  
  United Kingdom – The historic Public Health England is replaced by the Office for Health Improvement and Disparities (OHID). The shift marks the beginning of a fragmented narrative: on one hand, adult smokers are encouraged to adopt vaping as a cessation tool; on the other, growing caution surrounds youth use, now widespread among disposable vape users.
  

  France – NGOs like the Comité National Contre le Tabagisme intensify lobbying efforts against flavors and disposable devices. The Ministry of Health acknowledges the lower harm of e-cigarettes but sticks to a precautionary stance: it recognizes the distinction without translating it into cessation policy.
  

• 2022 – American Echoes
  
  United Kingdom – The American panic surrounding JUUL and the EVALI syndrome (a lung disease linked to illicit THC liquids), which had already crossed the Atlantic, resurfaces in the British press. The rhetoric of a “vaping epidemic” begins to be imported, dressed up as a public health concern and proactive policymaking, laying the groundwork for a stricter political shift—at odds with the UK’s legacy as a harm reduction pioneer.
  

  France – The League Against Cancer steps up its campaigns against sweet flavors and disposable devices. At the same time, the country solidifies a new line of argument: the environmental one. Cigarette butts and disposable vapes are condemned not just as health hazards, but as toxic and persistent waste—symbols of a society that poisons and pollutes itself in equal measure.
  

• 2023 – The Disposable Vape Boom
  
  United Kingdom – Cheap, colorful, and flavored products flood the market, becoming a trend among teenagers. Youth use skyrockets, and Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s government announces plans to impose strict regulations: banning disposables, limiting flavors, and standardizing packaging. Yet, the NHS continues to publish official materials recommending e-cigarettes as the most effective strategy to quit smoking—highlighting a nation split between pragmatic science and political panic.

  
  France – An IFOP study reveals that 15% of teenagers aged 13 to 16 have already tried disposable vapes. The statistic dominates headlines and strengthens the pressure from NGOs and experts calling for stricter measures. The issue takes center stage in public debate, crystallizing the image of disposables as a new threat—both to youth and the environment.
  

• 2024 – The Battle of Scientific Narratives
  
  United Kingdom – Researchers affiliated with King’s College London, such as Ann McNeill, publish reviews showing that, at the population level, vaping has contributed to a reduction in smoking rates. But the WHO and anti-tobacco NGOs hold a contrary view, emphasizing risks and uncertainty. The media—particularly The Guardian—amplifies the gateway effect narrative, suggesting that young vapers are destined to transition to cigarettes. The result is a cacophony of conflicting voices, where science, politics, and media pull in opposite directions.
  

  France – The government announces a nationwide ban on disposable vapes. At the same time, IFOP surveys reveal that 53% of smokers consider using vaping to quit cigarettes. Among adults, the perception of the device improves; among NGOs, pressure mounts over youth risk. France thus crystallizes its ambiguity: it partially legitimizes e-cigarettes, while shutting the door on their most popular format.
  

• 2025 – The Year of the Shift
  
  United Kingdom – The Tobacco and Vapes Bill has finally been passed, ushering in the most restrictive phase the country has ever seen. The law will be rolled out in stages:

  • Phase 1 – Gradual Tobacco Ban: As of January 1, 2027, it will be illegal to sell tobacco to anyone born on or after January 1, 2009. The legal age will increase year by year, effectively blocking access for future generations.

  • Phase 2 – Vapes: Beginning in June 2025, the sale of disposable vapes is banned. The bill also restricts flavors and flashy packaging to curb youth appeal.

  • Phase 3 – Licensing and Enforcement: A licensing system is introduced for selling tobacco and vapes, with fines of up to £2,500 for violations.

  • Phase 4 – Complementary Measures: Smoke- and vape-free zones are expanded (including playgrounds and schools), and mandatory retailer registration is broadened.
    

  The dominant narrative adopts the tone of a crusade to protect youth from a supposed “new nicotine epidemic”—an exaggerated phrase that reveals more about political rhetoric than epidemiological reality. The contrast is stark: while Parliament builds walls, the NHS still recommends e-cigarettes as the most effective tool for adults trying to quit smoking.
  

  France – A national decree expands restrictions on smoking in open-air spaces—beaches, parks, sports facilities—but leaves vaping untouched by the law. In Crozon, locals celebrate butt-free beaches, as Le Télégramme reports. At the same time, a survey shows that 43% of young people would return to cigarettes if flavors were restricted. This contrast sums up the French ambivalence: ecological civility in the sand, but cultural instability whenever vapor and youth intersect.

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