Features
Thaththa’s Wireless
Thaththa(my late father) was an avid radio listener. He called the radio a ‘wireless.’ Early in the morning, he listened to the news and, after dinner, to Sinhala and English songs. He allowed no one to talk aloud while he listened to the radio. Listening to the news and music was a struggle because of poor reception. He said the poor reception was because of the remoteness of Hambantota, where we lived. His friends advised him to buy a ‘six-valve’ Grundig radio for better reception. They coaxed him, saying he could, of course, as the Principal of St. Mary’s College, afford to buy a powerful radio. But Thaththa refused to discard his old Philips radio. Its front screen looked like an old rag, and the pilot light on the upper left corner was dead.
On a Saturday morning, Thaththa told me to get ready to go to Ambalantota, a bazaar about eight miles east of Hambantota. It was the first time he talked to me in two days. He had ignored me after I broke the glass door of his book cupboard. I played with my brothers in the front yard, throwing stones at birds. One stone went through the window of thaththa’s library and smashed the glass. I expected him to punish me, and I pleaded with Amma to protect me from him. His decision not to talk to me hurt me more than a slap from him. I was scared that he would not speak to me forever.
Amma dressed me up for the trip. She applied coconut oil to my head and talcum powder to my face. She pinned a small, folded handkerchief to my short-sleeved blue shirt. The handkerchief was to wipe my face if I sweated and clean my running nose. My new shoes were a bit too tight, but I was proud to wear them.
I enjoyed the bus ride to Ambalantota, a bustling bazaar with imported saappu badu (shop items). At the bazaar, thaththa looked for the radio shop for a few minutes. The shop owner recognized him, invited us to his shop, and offered tea. I got a small packet of biscuits and a ‘cool’ drink. He sipped hot tea sitting under a fan while chatting with the shopkeeper, who showed us five radios. Two were Philips radios, and the other three were Grundig. They all looked beautiful and smelled imported.
When the shop owner switched on the wooden-cased Grundig radio, a tiny sharp light appeared at the top left corner of its face. It was a tube light about one inch long and was vertically fixed to the beautiful, off-white, thick cloth covering the upper part of the radio face. The fabric looked like the lace that Amma weaved at home. The radio had a row of piano key-like square white buttons under the screen. The shopkeeper explained that they helped select wavebands, fine-tune between two overlapping broadcast stations, and reduce background noise. I touched the fabric and asked him about the purpose of the light tube. He explained that the beacon showed the battery power level. He connected the radio to a BEREC radio battery, a black box with several nodules on top of it.
Thaththa showed me the ‘long wave’ and ‘short wave’ bands on the glass panel below the screen by moving a vertical needle in the panel with one knob. The panel was backlit, and thaththa read aloud the country names printed on it. The other knob tuned the radio to different stations. He showed me how to lock the radio to a radio station by finding a city name on the panel. After tuning it to a BBC overseas programme, he exclaimed, “Look, now we are in London.” I visualized London City – Buckingham Place, double-decker buses, Prince Charles and Princess Anne. The cover page of the exercise books I used had a picture of the prince and princess. The radio was broadcasting a musical programme in English. I could not understand, but I enjoyed the beautiful music. I decided that one day I would visit London. Thaththa said that he liked the smooth sound quality of the Grundig and offered to buy it.
The shop owner offered a significant discount and a six-month payment plan. He told thaththa that the radio could be returned if he was not happy with it. Thaththa haggled with him and got an additional discount. he promised the shop owner that he would recommend the shop to teachers at the college. The shop owner was happy and gave thaththa a few items free — a ceramic disc with three holes to hold an aerial, a copper wire to ‘earth’ the radio, and 20 yards of wire for the aerial. The shop owner switched off the radio and carefully packed it into the radio box and other paraphernalia into another box. He also sold thaththa a new BEREC battery at a discounted price.
The two boxes were too big for us to carry to the bus station. Fortunately, thaththa met two of his students, and they willingly took the boxes to the Hambantota bus. There was only one empty seat on the bus. Thaththa asked me to sit, and he stood next to me. I shared the bus seat with a Buddhist monk and kept the two boxes before me. The priest wanted to know where I had been and with whom. My father intervened and told the priest we had just bought a radio.
The priest recognized my father, greeted him, and asked a few questions about the college and the drinking water situation in Hambantota. When we got home, thaththa told me the radio was my birthday gift, but I should share it with my three brothers. I did not believe him. A few months ago, he promised me an air gun for my seventh birthday. But at the last minute, he decided a gun was a dangerous weapon a young boy should not have.
Amma had already removed the old radio from the small round table in the sitting room, washed the plastic flower vase on the radio, and rearranged the plastic flowers. She kept a folded old bed sheet to cover the new radio when not in use. Thaththa asked me to fetch Polydole, his golaya (acolyte), at the church. (Polydole was a pet name – his real name was Aelian. He was a distant relative of the parish priest; he stayed at the vicar’s lodge and attended school). I ran to the churchyard and found Polydole in his small room. I told him about the radio and the new BEREC battery. He stopped reading and followed me home.
Thaththa scouted the backyard to find an open space for the radio’s aerial. He took the ceramic disk, tied a long piece of twine to the first of its three holes, and tied another piece to the third hole. He then tied the aerial wire to the middle hole of the ceramic disk. Then, he removed two inches of the rubber insulation of the wire end to expose its metal strands to radio waves. He then told Polydole to climb the large kohomba (margosa) tree in the compound and secure one twine rope to a branch. After that, Polydole climbed the nearby murunga tree and tied the second twine rope to a branch about 30 feet above the ground. The aerial was long enough to reach the radio through the grill above the large window in the sitting room. Amma worried that the aerial might conduct lighting to the radio in a storm. Thaththa dismissed her fear, saying lightning would not come along the wire.
Thaththa and Polydole sat on the sitting room floor and checked the radio after taking it out of the box. Thaththa read the instruction sheet several times and connected the ‘earth’ and ‘aerial’ wires to the radio. My brothers, Gamini and Nihal, fought to grab the empty radio cardboard box. Thaththa gave the battery box to Gamini, and Nihal disappeared with the radio box. He then plugged the radio into the battery, rechecked the instruction sheet, and switched the radio on. First, there was no sound. He fiddled with the two knobs on the radio for a while, and suddenly, we were listening to soft and clear music.
Thaththa announced that only he should switch on and off the radio. As the radio’s owner, I was to cover it when unused. Nihal told Gamini that he could play a song with the set of buttons below the upper screen of the radio, just as one would play a piano, and Gamini believed him.
Weerasinghe, thaththa’s friend, came to see the new radio that evening. He listened as thaththa explained its novelty and various features. The radio had six valves, which gave sufficient power to get radio signals from anywhere in the world. Thaththa showed him how to tune the radio to BBC. They carefully studied the radio and read all the countries on the screen. Weerasinghe told thaththa that it was a good purchase.
A little later, Nihal came running and announced that the radio chassis was hot. Thaththa ran to the sitting room, checked the frame, and switched off the radio. Weerasinghe said that the radio’s chassis becomes hot because of the heat generated inside the radio by the six valves. Thaththa was not convinced. The following weekend, he took the radio to a repair shop in Hambantota to check why the chassis had gotten heated. A technician at the shop told him not to cover the radio with cloth or plastic sheet when in use.
The new radio changed thaththa‘s life. After the morning news, he and I listened to a Philippine-based Catholic radio broadcast. It was a half-hour program with three old Sinhala songs and 15 minutes of catechism. In the evening, we heard the news and, once a week, we all listened to ‘Sandeshya’, the BBC Sinhala Program on contemporary world affairs. From 7.30 to 9.00 in the evening, thaththa kept the radio on. As a family, we listened to musical programs and political discussions of the hour. Once a week, Thaththa brought his senior college students to listen to a world geography programme on the radio. He was pleased when the students commented on the sound quality.
Thathatha discussed news and programs on the radio with Weerasinghe in the evenings at our place. I sat on his lap and listened to their discussions. Usually, he talked and expressed his views, and Weerasinghe mostly agreed with him. If the debate continued, thaththa offered Weerasinghe a shot of arrack and Amma invited him to stay for dinner, which he gladly accepted.
The radio travelled with us from Hambantota to Wattala and to Hendala. At each house, it was prominent in the sitting room. Over time, Amma became addicted to radio programmes. Most of her morning time, after we all went to school, was spent listening to Sinhala songs, news, and short dramas. I remember listening to a radio programme in Sinhala on Kennedy soon after his assassination in 1963.
I once saw a radiogram in the parlour next to the college chapel. It was a piece of furniture that combined a radio and record player, a large box with many knobs. A beautifully carved thin teak plank and thick cloth covered its front. Once, a teacher took us to the chapel and played a gramophone record of Ave Maria on the radiogram. We were astounded by the volume of the radiogram and the beauty of the smooth music that emanated from it. I inquired from the teacher about the brand of the radiogram. He said ‘Grundig’. I told my father about the radiogram and its brand, and he promised to visit it.
The Grundig radio has been with us for more than nine years. Thaththa once told me that German technology was much more advanced than Dutch or English technology. After thaththa’s death in 1967 we found it cheaper to buy a transistor radio than a BEREC radio battery for the old Grundig. We reluctantly switched to a small transistor radio, allowing one of the memories that tied us with thaththa to fade.
Features
NASA’s Epic Flight, Trump’s Epic Fumble and Asian Dilemmas
Three hours after the spectacular Artemis II flight launch in Florida, US President Donald Trump delivered a forlorn speech from Washington. Thirty three days after starting the war against Iran as Epic Fury, the President demonstrated on national and global televisions the Epic Fumble he has made out of his Middle East ‘excursion’. It was an April Fool’s Day speech, 20 minutes of incoherent rambling with the President looking bored, confused, disengaged and dispirited. He left no one wiser about what will come next, let alone what he might do next.
There was more to April Fool’s Day this year in that it brought out the nation’s good, bad and the ugly, all in a day’s swoop. The good was the Artemis II flight carrying astronauts farther from the Earth’s orbit and closer to the moon for the first time in over 50 years. The mission is a precursor for future flights and will test the performance of a new spacecraft, gather new understanding of human conditioning, and extend the boundaries of lunar science. It is a testament to humankind being able to make steady progress in science and technology at one end of a hopelessly uneven world, while poverty, bigotry and belligerence simmer violently at the other end.
Terrible Trump
The four Artemis II astronauts, three Americans, Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, and Christina Koch, and one Canadian, Jeremy Hansen, are also symptomatic of the endurance of America’s inclusive goodness in spite of efforts by the Trump Administration to snuff the nation’s fledgling DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) ethos. To wit, of the four astronauts, Victor Glover, a Caribbean American, is the first person of colour, Christina Koch the first woman, and Jeremy Hansen of Canada the first non-American – to fly this far beyond the earth’s orbit. All in spite of Trump’s watch.
Yet Trump managed to showcase his commitment to America’s ugliness, on the same day, by presenting himself at the Supreme Court hearing on the constitutionality of his most abominable Executive Order – to stop the American tradition of birthright citizenship. He keeps posting that America is Stupid in being the only country in the world that grants citizenship at birth to everyone born in America, regardless of the status of their parents, except the children of foreign diplomats or members of an occupying enemy force. In fact, there are 32 other countries in the world that grant birthright citizenship, a majority of them in the Americas indicating the continent’s history as a magnet for migrants ever since Christopher Columbus discovered it for the rest of the world.
And birthright citizenship in the US is enshrined in the constitution by the 14th Amendment, supplemented by subsequent legislation and reinforced by a century and a half of case law. Trump wants to reverse that. Thus far and no further was the message from the court at the hearing. A decision is expected in June and the legal betting is whether it would be a 7-2 or 8-1 rebuke for Trump. In a telling exchange during the hearing, when the government’s Solicitor General John Sauer quite sillily dramatized that “we’re in new world now … where eight billion people are one plane ride way from having a child who’s a US citizen,” Chief Justice John Roberts quietly dismissed him: “Well, it’s a new world. It’s the same Constitution!”
Trump’s terrible ‘bad’ is of course the war that he started in the Middle East and doesn’t know how to end it. Margaret MacMillan, acclaimed World War I historian and a great grand daughter of World War I British Prime Minister Lloyd George from Wales, has compared Trump’s current war to the origins of the First World War. Just as in 1914, small Serbia had pulled the bigger Russia into a war that was not in Russia’s interest, so too have Netanyahu and Israel have pulled Trump and America into the current war against Iran. World War I that started in August, 2014 was expected to be over before Christmas, but it went on till November, 2018. Weak leaders start wars, says MacMillan, but “they don’t have a clear idea of how they are going to end.”
There are also geopolitical and national-political differences between the 1910s and 2020s. America’s traditional allies have steadfastly refused to join Trump’s war. And Trump is under immense pressure at home not to extend the war. This is one American war that has been unpopular from day one. The cost of military operations at as high as two billion dollars a day is anathema to the people who are aggravated by rising prices directly because of the war. Trump’s own mental acuity and the abilities of his cabinet Secretaries are openly under question. There are swirling allegations of military contract profiteering and selective defense investments – one involving Secretary of War Pete Hegseth.
Trump’s Administration is coming apart with sharp internal divisions over the war and government paralysis on domestic matters. There are growing signs of disarray – with Trump firing his Attorney General for not being effective prosecuting his political enemies and Secretary Hegseth ordering early retirement for Army Chief of Staff Randy George. In America’s non-parliamentary presidential system, Trump is allowed to run his own forum where he lies daily without instant challenger or contradiction, and it is impossible to get rid of his government by that simple device called no confidence motion.
Asian Dilemmas
Howsoever the current will last or end, what is clear is that its economic consequences are not going to disappear soon. Iran’s choke on the Strait of Hormuz has affected not only the supply and prices of oil and natural gas but a family of other products from fertilizers to medicines to semiconductors. The barrel price of oil has risen from $70 before the war to over $100 now. After Trump’s speech on April 1, oil prices rose and stock prices fell. The higher prices have come to stay and even if they start going down they are not likely to go down to prewar levels.
There are warnings that with high prices, low growth and unemployment, the global economy is believed to be in for a stagflation shock like in the 1970s. Even if the war were to end sooner than a lot later, the economic setbacks will not be reversed easily or quickly. Supplies alone will take time to get back into routine, and it will even take longer time for production in the Gulf countries to get back to speed. Not only imports, but even export trading and exports to Middle East countries will be impacted. The future of South Asians employed in the Middle East is also at stake.
In 1980, President Carter floated the Carter Doctrine that the US would use military force to ensure the free flow of oil through the Strait of Hormuz. Trump is now upending that doctrine – first by misusing America’s military force against Iran and provoking the strait’s closure, and then claiming that keeping the strait open is not America’s business. Ever selfish and transactional, Trump’s argument is that America is now a net exporter of oil and is no longer dependent on Middle East oil.
To fill in the void, and perhaps responding to Trump’s call to “build up some delayed courage,” UK has hosted a virtual meeting of about 40 countries to discuss modalities for reopening the Strait of Hormuz. US was not one of them. While Downing Street has not released a full list of attendees, European countries, some Gulf countries, Canada, Australia, Japan and India reportedly attended the meeting. Which other Asian countries attended the meeting is not known.
British Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper has blamed Iran for “hijacking” an international shipping route to “hold the global economy hostage,” while insisting that the British initiative is “not based on any other country’s priority or anything in terms of the US or other countries”. French President Emmanuel Macron now visiting South Korea has emphasized any resolution “can only be done in concert with Iran. So, first and foremost, there must be a ceasefire and a resumption of negotiations.”
Prior to the British initiative focussed on the Strait of Hormuz, Egypt, Pakistan and Türkiye have been playing a backdoor intermediary role to facilitate communications between the US and Iran. Trump as usual magnified this backroom channel as serious talks initiated by Iran’s ‘new regime’, and Trump’s claims were promptly rejected by Iran. There were speculations that Pakistan would host a direct meeting between US Vice President JD Vance and an Iranian representative in Islamabad. So far, only the foreign ministers of Egypt, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye have met in Islamabad, and Pakistan’s Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar flew to Beijing to brief his Chinese counterpart, Wang Yi, of Pakistan’s diplomatic efforts.
The Beijing visit produced a five-point initiative calling for a ceasefire, the opening of the Strait of Hormuz and diplomacy instead of escalation. The five-point pathway seems a follow up to the 15-point demand that the US sent to Iran through the three Samaritan intermediaries which Iran rejected as they did not include any of Iran’s priorities. The state of these mediating efforts are now unclear after President Trump’s April Fool’s Day rambling. In fairness, Pakistan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs has announced that his country intends to keep ‘nudging’ the US and Iran towards resuming negotiations and ending the war.
While these efforts are welcome and deserve everyone’s best wishes, they have also led to what BBC has called the “chatter in Delhi” – “is India being sidelined” by Pakistan’s intermediary efforts? Indian Foreign Minister Jaishankar’s rather undiplomatic characterization of Pakistan’s role as “dalali” (brokerage) provoked immediate denunciation in Islamabad, while Indian opposition parties are blaming the Modi Government’s foreign policy stances as an “embarrassment” to India’s stature.
The larger view is that while it is Asia that is most impacted by the closure of Hormuz, with Singapore’s Foreign Affairs Minister Vivian Balakrishnan calling it an “Asian crisis”, Asia has no leverage in the matter and Asian countries have to make special arrangements with Iran to let their ships navigate through the Strait of Hormuz. There is no pathway for co-ordinated action. China is still significant but not consequentially effective. India’s all-alignment foreign policy has made it less significant and more vulnerable in the current crisis. And Pakistan has opened a third dimension to Asia’s dilemmas.
In the circumstances, it is fair to say that Sri Lanka is the most politically stable country among its South Asian neighbours. Put another way, Sri Lanka has a remarkably consensual and uncontentious government in comparison to the old governments in India and Pakistan, and even the new government in Bangladesh. But that may not be saying much unless the NPP government proves itself to be sufficiently competent, and uses the political stability and the general goodwill it is still enjoying, to put the country’s economic department in order. More on that later.
by Rajan Philips
Features
Ranjith Siyambalapitiya turns custodian of a rare living collection
From Parliament to Fruit Grove:
After more than two decades in politics, rising to the positions of Cabinet Minister and Deputy Speaker of Parliament, Ranjith Siyambalapitiya has turned his attention to a markedly different arena — one far removed from parliamentary debate and political intrigue.
Today, Siyambalapitiya spends much of his time tending to a sprawling 15-acre home garden at Vendala in Karawanella, near Ruwanwella, nurturing what has gradually evolved into one of the most remarkable private fruit collections in the country.
Situated in Sri Lanka’s Wet Zone Low Country agro-ecological region (WL2), Ruwanwella lies at an elevation of roughly 100–200 metres above sea level. Deep red-yellow podzolic soils, annual rainfall exceeding 2,500 millimetres, and a warm humid tropical climate combine to create conditions that make the region one of the richest areas in the island for fruit tree diversity.
Within this favourable ecological setting, Siyambalapitiya has become what may best be described as a custodian of a living collection—a fruit grove that now contains around 554 fruit trees and vines, many of them rare or seldom seen in contemporary agriculture.
Of these, 448 varieties have already been properly identified and documented with the assistance of agriculturist Dr. Suba Heenkenda, a retired expert of the Department of Agriculture. Together they have undertaken the painstaking task of cataloguing the plants by their botanical names, common Sinhala names, and the names used in ancient Ayurvedic and indigenous medical texts, assigning each species a unique identification number.
According to Siyambalapitiya, the Vendala estate is possibly the only single location in Sri Lanka where such a large number of fruit varieties—particularly rare and underutilized species—are maintained within one property.
“This garden came down to me through my grandfather, grandmother, mother and father,” he says. “It is a place shaped by three generations.”
The estate, he explains, began as a traditional home garden where crops such as tea, coconut and rubber were cultivated alongside fruit trees planted by family members over decades. Over time, however, it evolved into something much larger: a carefully nurtured grove preserving both common and obscure fruit species.
Siyambalapitiya recalls with affection one of the oldest trees in the garden—a honey-jack tree known locally as “Lokumänike’s Rata Kos Gaha.”
The story behind it has become part of family lore. According to village elders, his grandmother had brought home the sapling after visiting the Colombo Grand Exhibition in 1952 many decades ago and planted it near the house.
The tree soon gained fame in the village. Its tender jackfruit proved ideal for curry and mallum, while the ripe fruit was renowned for its sweetness.
“Ripe jackfruit from this tree tastes like honey itself,” Siyambalapitiya says. “Even the seeds are full of flour and can be eaten throughout the year.”
Yet age has not spared the venerable tree. It now shows signs of disease, and Siyambalapitiya and his staff have had to treat old wounds and monitor unusual bark damage.
“Once lightning struck it,” he recalls. “The largest branch began to die. Saving the tree required what I would call a kind of surgical operation.”
Such care, he says, reflects the deep attachment he feels toward the collection.
His fascination with fruit trees began in childhood. While attending Royal College in Colombo and living in a boarding house he disliked, Siyambalapitiya would insist that the family procure new fruit saplings for him to plant during his weekend visits home.
“That was the only ‘price’ I demanded for going to school,” he laughs.
Over the years the collection expanded steadily as he encountered new plants in forests, nurseries, and rural landscapes across the island.
The result today is a grove that includes traditional Sri Lankan fruit species, underutilized native varieties, forest fruits, and plants introduced from overseas.
Some species originate in Arabian deserts, while others thrive naturally in cooler climates such as Europe. Certain plants require greenhouse-like conditions, while others are hardy forest trees.
Managing such diversity is no easy task.
“One plant asks for rain, another asks for cold, and yet another prefers heat,” Siyambalapitiya explains. “Too much rain makes some sick, too much sun troubles others. The older trees overshadow the younger ones. You cannot feed or medicate them all in the same way.”
He compares the task to caring for a household filled with people from many nations and ages—each with different needs.
Despite the challenges, he believes the effort is worthwhile, particularly because many of the trees are native species that have become increasingly rare.
“If things continue as they are, some of these plants may disappear from our lives,” he warns.
To preserve knowledge about them, Siyambalapitiya is preparing to launch a book titled “Mage Vendala Palathuru Arana” (My Vendala Fruit Grove), which serves as an introductory guide to the collection.
The book, scheduled for release on April 18 at the Vendala estate, will be attended by Ven. Dr. Kirinde Assaji Thera, Chief Incumbent of Gangaramaya Temple,
Uruwarige Wannila Aththo, the leader of the Indigenous Vedda Community,
a long-serving former employee who helped maintain the plantation, and Sunday Dhamma school students from the region, who will participate as guests of honour.
The publication will also mark Siyambalapitiya’s eighth book. Previously he authored seven works and wrote more than 500 weekly newspaper columns offering commentary on politics and current affairs.
While working on the fruit catalogue, he is simultaneously writing another volume reflecting on his 25-year political career, including his tenure as Deputy Finance Minister during Sri Lanka’s most severe economic crisis.
For Siyambalapitiya, however, the fruit grove represents more than a hobby or academic exercise.
“The fruit we enjoy is the result of a tree’s effort to reproduce,” he says. “Nature has given fruits their taste, fragrance and colour to attract us. All the tree asks in return is that its seeds be carried to new places.”
That simple cycle of life, he believes, has continued for tens of thousands of years.
“And those who love trees,” he adds, “are guardians of the world’s survival.”
by Saman Indrajith
Pix by Tharanga Ratnaweera
- Four workers in charge of the four zones of the plantation
- Siyamabalapitiya explaning the evolution of plantation
- A foreign berry plant
- A Bakumba plant
- A rare jackfruit tree
- Siyambalapitiya pruning Pumkin Lemon plant
- Siyamabalapitiya explaning the evolution of plantation
Features
Smoke Free Sweden calls out to WHO not to suggest nicotine alternatives
It has been reported by the international advocacy initiative, ‘Smoke Free Sweden’ (‘SFS’) that many International health experts have begun criticizing the World Health Organization (WHO) for presenting safer nicotine alternatives rather than recognizing its role in accelerating decline in smoking.
As the world’s premier technical health agency, the WHO is empowered to support strategies that reduce morbidity and mortality even if they do not eliminate the underlying behaviour. Furthermore, it should base its guidance on evolving scientific knowledge, which includes comparative-risk assessments. Equating smoke-free nicotine alternatives with combustible cigarettes, is essentially putting lives at risk, according to the health experts contacted by SFS.
The warning follows recent WHO comments suggesting that vaping and other non-combustible nicotine products are driving tobacco use in Europe. This narrative ignores real-world evidence from countries like Sweden where access to safer alternatives has coincided with record low smoking rates.
A “Smoke-Free” status is defined as an adult daily smoking prevalence below 5% and Sweden is on the brink of officially achieving this milestone. This is clear proof that pragmatic harm-reduction policies work. Sweden’s success has been driven by adult smokers switching to lower-risk alternatives such as oral tobacco pouches (Snus), oral nicotine pouches and other non-combustible products.
“Vapes and pouches are helping to reduce risk, and Sweden’s smoke-free transition proves this,” said Dr Delon Human, leader of Smoke Free Sweden. “We should be celebrating policies that help smokers quit combustible tobacco, not spreading fear about the very tools that are accelerating the decline of cigarettes.”
It is further reported by health experts that conflating cigarettes with non-combustible alternatives risks deterring smokers from switching and could slow progress toward reducing tobacco-related disease.
Dr Human emphasized that youth protection and harm reduction are not mutually exclusive.
“It is critically important to safeguard against underage use, but this should be done by targeted, risk-proportionate regulation and proper enforcement, not by sacrificing the right of adults to access products that might save their lives,” he said.
Smoke Free Sweden is calling on global health authorities to adopt evidence-based policies that distinguish clearly between combustible tobacco – the primary cause of tobacco-related death – and lower-risk nicotine alternatives.
“Public health policy must be grounded in science and real-world outcomes,” Dr Human added. “Sweden’s experience shows that when adult smokers are given legal access to safer nicotine alternatives, smoking rates fall faster than almost anywhere else in the world.”
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