In December, Hennepin County amended its restaurant smoking ban. The consensus seems to be that the reversal, which permits exemptions for bars that earn more than half their revenue from liquor sales, is a good thing. Now Hennepin is mostly in line with Ramsey County (though Ramsey allows the sealing off of bar areas to permit smoking). Neighboring Anoka County does not have any kind of ban.
But kowtowing to the few at the expense of the many is an insult to the public good. And genuinely good businesses have bounced back or seen little impact. The businesses still hurting are largely indoor smokers’ havens, of so little appeal or relevance that, when ashtrays are taken away, half their business disappears. Should we be changing our public health standards for them?
Like all political footballs, there are many sides to the story, but the simple fact remains that decisive leadership from the governor’s office—that is, making a statewide smoking policy a reality—is needed now, so the patchwork of laws blanketing the metro area ends. Some restaurants and bars within a reasonable drive of regions with different policies have taken hits under the current regime and created a very vocal minority. (Hello, Sue Jeffers!) A statewide policy would level the playing field. Businesses would need to compete on merit, not legal technicalities. And when they do, the good ones win.
Morton’s The Steakhouse, one of the glitzier spots in town, steadily collected on heavy bar tabs over the years, thanks to its well-stocked humidor and the natural affinity that most steak lovers have for a snifter and a stogie. According to Morton’s, after last spring’s smoking ban went into effect, bar business cratered and its classic cigar dinners became a thing of the past. Kathleen Wagner, Morton’s daytime manager, told me that now they are doing well. “We had a sizable dent in the beginning, but this last season, day and night, was great.
Folks looking to smoke have to go upstairs and out the door.” But they want to be at Morton’s, so they put up with the indignity.
Chip Isaacson, owner of the downtown hamburger bar Ike’s Food & Cocktails—which could be unpleasantly smoky in places—is even more nonplussed. “Our sales are up over last year, guest feedback has been insignificant, and we have seen no negative impact on sales. My personal theory is that people have their two or three joints they go to, and if one forbids smoking, and you’re a smoker, you have to throw that one under the bus.” A compelling argument for leveling the field, to be sure.
The argument that Big Government has stuck its nose too far into our lives on this one is specious. Perhaps next year we can start selling heroin in our middle schools to help finance prescription drug care? Cigarette smoke kills, and to listen to Nordeast bar owners making self-serving sound bites straight out of Big Tobacco’s 1980s playbook is nothing short of gross. It is shameful that an employee in an advertising agency enjoys protections from secondhand smoke, while many hospitality employees do not.
As in other states (Maryland, most recently), small groups of disaffected business owners have been using the mythology of falling sales as a way to sabotage the antismoking coalition’s attempts to push a statewide ban. Not only are they wrong, but they also feed into the worst elements of paranoid politics at the expense of the very people they purport to be defending—the hospitality industry employee.
I genuinely feel for bar owners who are on the brink of failure, but I’d argue that they are not by and large the victims of a bad law, but rather of their own outdated business practices.