Misocapnic

Misocapnic (pronounced miss-oh-kap-nick or migh-soh-kap-nick)

Hating tobacco smoke (the more recent extensions in meaning including “hating those who smoke tobacco” and “hating the tobacco industry”).

1855: A linguistic mongrel, misocapnic was borrowed from Greek and combined with English elements, modelled on a Latin lexical item, the construct being miso- (a combining form of Ancient Greek μῑσέω (mīséō) (to hate) from μῖσος (mîsos) (hatred) which was used to create forms conveying the notion of a “hatred, dislike or aversion” of or to something) + the stem of the Ancient Greek καπνός (kapnós) (smoke) + ‑ic.  The -ic suffix was from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃)).  Misocapnic is an adjective and misocapnist & misocapnism are nouns; the noun plural is misocapnists.  A person who hates tobacco smoke or smoking (and often smokers) is a misocapnist and if it becomes a calling (noted in “reformed” smokers) they become practitioners of misocapnism.  Misocapnists range from the merely disapproving to the rabid activists, the comparative “more misocapnic”, the superlative “most misocapnic”.

The earliest known use of misocapnic was in the book: A Paper, Of Tobacco: Treating Of The Rise, Progress, Pleasures, And Advantages Of Smoking, With Anecdotes Of Distinguished Smokers (1839) by Joseph Fume (a pseudonym of English writer William Andrew Chatto (1799–1864) (who also published as Stephen Oliver (Junior))).  Noted by scholars as work of genuine interest and now in the public domain (still available in re-print), “Of Tobacco” explored the history, chemistry, and cultural significance of smoking discussing the ceremonial use of tobacco by Native Americans and its introduction to Europe.  It includes also the word “mundungus” (used usually to mean “offal; waste animal product; organic matter unfit for consumption”, it came also to be slang for “poor-quality tobacco with a foul, rancid, or putrid smell”) which was from the Spanish mondongo (tripe, entrails).  The earliest known use of the adjectival form misocapnic was in an 1855 pamphlet by Church of England (broad faction) priest & historian Charles Kingsley (1819–1875), a notorious controversialist.

In the West, anti-smoking measures began seriously to be imposed in the 1980s, displeasing those accustomed to enjoying cigarettes at their desk or while flying on airliners.  That was consequent upon a legal and medical saga which dates from the mid-century, the US Surgeon-General first issuing warnings in the 1960s, trigging the campaign (fought tooth and nail by the tobacco industry) which saw multi-billion dollar settlements imposed.  Opposition to smoking however wasn’t something new, one of the most celebrated of the unimpressed being noted amateur theologian James I (1566–1625) King of Scotland as James VI (1567-1625) & King of England and Ireland as James I (1603-1625) who in 1604 issued his A Counterblaste to Tobacco, one of the earliest diatribes against the habit:

“Have you not reason then to bee ashamed, and to forbeare this filthie noveltie, so basely grounded, so foolishly received and so grossely mistaken in the right use thereof? In your abuse thereof sinning against God, harming your selves both in persons and goods, and raking also thereby the markes and notes of vanitie upon you: by the custome thereof making your selves to be wondered at by all forraine civil Nations, and by all strangers that come among you, to be scorned and contemned. A custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the Lungs, and in the blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomelesse…”

Such was the king’s disdain for "the noxious plante" he imposed a heavy excise tax on tobacco imported from the North American colonies (an approach now favoured by Western governments as a public health measure) but within two decades-odd, politics & economics had triumphed, the population’s ever-growing demand for tobacco compelling him to instead create a royal monopoly for the crop.  Over the ensuing centuries, the plant would prove a mainstay of the economy and, via the trade routes secured by the Royal Navy, Great Britain would emerge as tobacco merchant to the world.  The combination of the royal imprimatur and his subjects’ embrace of the addictive habit lent tobacco a respectability which would extend to all classes of society, including (until well into the twentieth century), much of the medical establishment and the alleged medical efficacy had a long history, smoking a pipe at breakfast made compulsory for the schoolboys at London’s Eton College during The Great Plague of 1665, something widely advocated as a defence against “bad air”.

Mid-century cigarette advertising.  Even in the 1950s the public's suspicion that tobacco was a dangerous product was rising and the industry's advertising switched from the traditional "lifestyle" model to one which relied on endorsements by celebrities and scientists and much quoting of research and statistics, much of which would later be wholly debunked.  The tactics and techniques similar to those later adopted by the fossil fuel lobby in their long campaign to discredit the science of human-activity induced climate change. 

One attempt at social engineering began in earnest in the 1980s: Pressure was applied on film & television studios, advertisers and publishers to stop depicting smoking as "attractive, sexy and cool".  Because cigarette smoke is known to be carcinogenic and sustained use typically reduced the human lifespan by about a decade, it was an admirable part of the public health programme but the difficult thing was that images of smoking undeniably could be sexy.  Lindsay Lohan demonstrates.    

The industry learned early the value of celebrity endorsement & association, “Prince Albert” tobacco introduced by the RJ Reynolds Tobacco Company in 1907 and named after the prince who would become King Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910) although the myth it was named after heavy smoker Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (1819-1861; consort of Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901)) persists.  Prince Albert tobacco is rated as “high quality” and Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), on 3 October 1947 (two years into the 20 year sentence he was lucky to receive for war crimes and crimes against humanity) noted with approval in his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)): “After breakfast my first pipe.  No matter which nation is on duty we receive a tin of American Prince Albert as our weekly ration.”  High quality the Prince Albert may have been but some seven months later he observed “I nearly made myself sick to my stomach breaking in my pipe.”  Still, he kept smoking although it’s not clear if he’d quit the habit when, aged 76, he died in a London hotel room in the company of a woman some decades younger and not his wife.

Although later the industry would use their sponsorship of sport to turn the sporting organizations into “tobacco industry lobbyists”, even before the political pressures appeared, the usefulness of sport as a promotional tool was understood, the Gallaher (to become best known for the “Benson & Hedges” brand) company in 1966 gaining the “naming rights” to the annual 500 mile (805 km) endurance race for what then genuinely were “production cars”, run on the 3.9 mile (6.2 km) Mount Panorama Circuit at Bathurst in Australia.  It’s the race which in 1973 became the Bathurst 1000 (625 miles), the country that year switching to the metric system.  Gallaher took up the event sponsorship to promote their brand but the sales numbers hadn’t much improved after the well-publicized 1966 race so they decided to leverage their money, “suggesting” certain changes to the race rules.

Changing of the guard: Mini Coopers (1275 cm³), Bathurst, 1966 and Ford Falcon GTs (4736 cm³), Bathurst, 1967.

The Bathurst race then was unusual in that it was a true stand-alone event, neither part of any series nor governed by rules set by the Confederation of Australian Motor Sport (CAMS) or the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation (world sport’s dopiest regulatory body)) and in 1966 there was no rule requiring a minimum number of pit stops.  Taking advantage of this were the “giant-killing” 1.3 litre (78 cubic inch) Morris Mini Cooper 1275 S, able to run the 500 miles without needing tyre changes and, at most, only one stop for fuel.  Accordingly, although not the fastest machines in a straight line, the Minis filled the first nine places, the only other car in the top ten a 273 cubic inch (4.5 litre) Chrysler Valiant V8 which finished tenth, six laps down on the winner.  Timed at a then impressive 120 mph (193 km/h) down the long Conrod Straight, the Valiant posted competitive lap times but the frequent stops for tyres and fuel (more time-consuming tasks then than now) lent the Minis a significant advantage.

Clockwise from top left: The eight “Gallaher GT” Falcon GTs in corporate livery outside the corporation's Rydalmere facility in Sydney, September 1967; a packet of “Gallaher GTs 20s”; one of the surviving cars after restoration and an image from the 1967 advertising campaign (note the "driving glove" an affectation from the days of open roadsters, sweaty palms & teak-rim steering wheels).

No documents have ever been sighted which prove it was Gallaher which “suggested” mandating a minimum number of pit-stops but few have doubts and once implemented for the 1967 event, the advantage enjoyed by the small, light, economical cars was negated and not for another 20 years would a four-cylinder car win the race and the Mini remains the only front wheel drive (FWD) vehicle to enjoy a victory.  With a little nudge, the planets were thus aligned for Gallaher and their “Gallaher GT” cigarette brand.  As a promotional tie-in, eight of the new 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) XR Ford Falcon GTs were painted silver to match the cigarette’s packaging and, adorned with corporate livery, issued to the travelling salesmen (and they were then all men) who went forth and promoted.  Other than the paint, the cars were standard except for an alarm system fitted to the boot (trunk) lid; even at 50c a packet, the Falcon could be holding over Aus$3000 in stock (as late as the early 1980s, the agents would visit places like sports grounds or shopping centres, handing out free samples of cigarettes).  So the plan was to use the Falcon GT’s victory at Bathurst to promote sales of Gallaher GT cigarettes and part of the plan worked in that the Fords finished first and second but the success didn’t rub off on the fags, the Gallaher GT quietly withdrawn in March 1968, some six months after the chequered flag had been waved at Bathurst, Gallaher leaving to others (like Benson & Hedges, Gallaher holding the UK but not Australian rights to the trademark) the task of getting Australians addicted.  Tobacco advertising finally vanished from Australian race-tracks in 1996 when the federal government imposed a ban.

Sydney Morning Herald “souvenir” front page, 14 March 1983 (left), Benson & Hedges packet with royal warrant (1877-1999, centre) and packet with “B&H coat of arms”, used after the warrant was withdrawn (right).

Gallaher took advantage of the 1983 royal tour of Australia to promote its Benson & Hedges brand, a packet embossed with the royal warrant (indicated by a coat of arms and the title “By appointment to…”) appearing on a “souvenir” front page, Sydney Morning Herald, 14 March 1983.  In 1999, the UK papers reported it was the advocacy of the most misocapnic Prince of Wales (now Charles III (b 1948; King of the United Kingdom since 2022)) which persuaded Elizabeth II (1926-2022; queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) to withdraw the royal warrant.