Tobacco: Trouble Is the Word

In a nationally televised game called Password one night last week, a contestant stared her partner in the eye and asked him for the word that people most logically associate with “cigarette.” Without hesitation, the partner blurted: “Cancer.” The audience roared with laughter and applause, and the master of ceremonies gulped, as if seeing all the leaders of the $8 billion-a-year U.S. tobacco industry frowning collectively at him. The health issue has caused the tobacco industry to slide from peaks that it may never reach again.

Though sales reached records last year, per capita smoking of cigarettes in the U.S. declined for the first time since 1954. Profit margins dropped for every major U.S. tobacco company except Philip Morris, and cigarette company stocks are still far below the highs set before last year’s market crash. The industry finds itself under harsh fire from doctors, teachers, parents and legislators. The U.S. Air Force has stopped distributing cigarettes in lunch packs to flight crews. U.S. Surgeon General Luther L. Terry is preparing to release a definitive smoking-and-health report that tobaccomen fear will be widely damaging to them.

No Longer Chicken. The industry’s big export markets have already been crimped by newly imposed restrictions on tobacco advertising in Europe. Last week, following an example set on British TV, two Canadian cigarette makers agreed not to advertise on Canadian TV until 9 p.m., when children are presumably safely abed. After many U.S. universities banned cigarette ads from campus publications at the urging of the American Cancer Society, five major cigarette companies last week announced that they will discontinue all campus advertising and promotion.

What worries tobaccomen most is the increasing difficulty, in the face of such pressure, of attracting the young smokers on whom their future depends. Though half of U.S. adults and 44% of all high school seniors are said to be regular smokers, a teen-ager no longer need feel chicken or prim for not smoking. The Cancer Society claims marked success from its stepped-up showings of cigarette-warning films in schools, and youngsters who quit find themselves in good company. Among adult quitters: LeRoy Collins, who almost lost his job as president of the National Association of Broadcasters when he expressed disapproval of cigarette ads pitched to youngsters, and President James M. Hester of New York University, who last week asked the press to discard old photos showing him puffing cigarettes, “since he has discontinued smoking.”

Scramble for Space. Instead of flatly condemning reports of a cancer link, as manufacturers once did, the industry’s Tobacco Institute now prefers to stress “a crusade for research.” While waiting for the results of that crusade, tobacco companies have stepped up their $200 million advertising campaign, which associates smoking with virility and romance. Manufacturers scramble hard for spots in vending machines, which now account for 16% of cigarette sales. Partly because the automatic vendors ask no questions of underage smokers (who are breaking the law in 46 states whenever they buy cigarettes), four states are considering imposing restrictions on the machines. Vending machines can stock up to 20 brands, and are so well patronized that all the cigarette companies except top-selling R. J. Reynolds (Camel, Winston, Salem) offer premiums of up to $32.10 annually per machine to vendors who agree to stock their brands.

Space is at a premium in the vending machines because of the extraordinary proliferation of new brands. Tobaccomen hope not only to fit every taste and soothe every fear, but also to cater to the restlessness that is one result of the concern about smoking. Most of the new brands have a consciously antiseptic image—notably the filters (which have now captured 56% of the U.S. market), the lengthy kings (20% of the market), and the menthols (14% ). Liggett & Myers has launched Lark with a “3-piece Keith filter,” and Brown & Williamson is test-marketing Breeze filters with menthol and a “touch” of clove. American Tobacco has brought out menthol Montclair; last week Philip Morris started selling nationally its filter menthol Paxton, which comes in a thin plastic “humidor” case. Launching each new brand costs some $10 million, but most of them seem to burn out quickly nowadays. Among the recent failures: R. J. Reynolds’ Brandon, Philip Morris’ Commander, American Tobacco’s menthol Riviera, Brown & Williamson’s Kentucky Kings.

While they talk bravely of the future and are confident that old habits die hard, tobaccomen are hedging by diversifying their interests. U.S. Tobacco now makes candy too. Philip Morris has bought out Burma-Shave, Clark Chewing Gum and American Safety Razor (Personna, Pal, Gem). R. J. Reynolds has gone into several lines from fruit punch to packaging.