The tobacco industry might depend completely on it, but smoking is most definitely not a good idea. It is known to be a leading cause of many serious ailments, including cancer. In developing countries, the cost of cure for tobacco-induced illness compounds the misery of the poor. Health problems also badly impact the productivity of the workforce. This makes a bad situation worse in poorer societies. So, at first sight, a ban on smoking by decree would appear desirable. But can this actually be done with any degree of success? This is what the Indian government is now attempting: as of October 2, it is an offence to smoke anywhere in any "public place" in this country; the only places you can still smoke legally are in the privacy of your own home, a park, or while walking on the road (but not at a bus stop). Smoking areas will also be permitted in hotels with more than 30 rooms, restaurants with a seating capacity of 30 or above and in airports; as long as care is taken to ensure that non-smokers do not have to enter or even pass through these areas. Can one think of excellent rules and regulations and laws in this country which are not implemented? To answer this question is to know that any rule imposed by the government to ban smoking in public is bound to remain a pipedream. There are any number of reasons why laws and rules fail for want of effective implementation.

Lack of enforcement personnel, corruption — usually in the form of getting away by paying a small tip instead of the hefty official fine to a law-enforcer — or a lax work culture among officialdom are some of them. Usually these three reasons work at the same time in India. According to the new anti-smoking rule, a veritable army of people employed in the government sector are authorised to detect an offender and slap a fine on him or her. For example, a schoolteacher or an official of a public sector company such as MTNL or Bhel can now dispense instant justice. One can easily visualise fights breaking out, or an official shrivelling into a corner if there are far too many offenders around. Public education and raising consciousness about such matters is not easy and invariably takes time. Also, before such a law can be effectively implemented, the machinery to enforce the rules has to be put in place, and people — ordinary citizens as well as those who need to ensure the rules are followed — given time to familiarise themselves with what is and is not permissible. At this point, in this country, there is very little clarity on these matters. Certain European nations which introduced such bans did so in stages, with highly effective results. For once the benefits of living in a smoke-free environment become evident to the citizenry, the need for policing becomes almost redundant. That should have been the right way to go for Anbumani Ramadoss, our overzealous Union health minister. There is no doubt that his heart is in the right place. But there is also no question that the path he has chosen is wrong-headed.