I'm in the bookstore trying to decompress from a lengthy illness, still in progress. Suddenly, the odor of cigarettes and alcohol enter the chat. Two older women sit beside me and the distinct aroma of chemical cope lingers around them. Similarly, last night my neighbor filled the halls with stink from weed, which found its way into my livingroom, a tiny space with nowhere to hide.
The liberal me agrees that what a person does with his body is entirely his decision. Who am I to act as judge and jury? If you enjoy the malodorous oppression of smoke, that's your kink and I won't lecture a person out of it. But this isn't a private space. I would argue, too, that an apartment isn't public in that you share the space with others who often live very closeby. Is there any argument to be made for the sanctity of air? Is there a line to be drawn? Is there a social contract which compels us to keep the stench of addiction confined?
I've worked closely with colleagues who chain smoke and/or vape. The stench has often been overwhelming, even to the point of making me sick. At one time, the man's smell attached itself to my clothes which I washed over and over to deodorize as if it were some kind of exorcism. The air itself became hostile. His body reeked. His clothes reeked. It was nothing short of atmospheric assault.
What's the general consensus here? Do we have an obligation to keep our smells considerate of others or is that straying too far into 1984 Big Brother territory?