Conscious autosuggestion does not work

With autosuggestion you say to yourself: "I'm going to quit smoking. It would be stupid to risk lung cancer or heart disease for a lousy cigarette. Besides, I'm tired of smoking."
Your conscious attention is upon the resolve to quit. Your conscious begins raising doubts.

You begin to think about the consequences of breaking the cigarette habit. You wonder about the jitters and whether it's worth it or not. You begin to rationalize, weighing the "good" and the "bad" and naturally favoring that which you believe to be the most pleasurable.

Your resolution is subjected to scrutiny by logic and past experience. In the light of past failures, the conscious mind is forced to admit: "I should quit smoking, but I wonder if I can."

The autosuggestion has been watered down with self-doubt. It becomes, "I hope I can give up the cigarette habit." With more rationalizing and more self-doubt, it eventually becomes, "Oh, what's the use.”

When you argue with yourself you defeat the purpose.

Do these excuses sound familiar?

In golf and in bowling the way to overcome a bad habit is to substitute a new—and good—habit. You discover that you're holding the club or the ball incorrectly; you learn how to grasp it correctly; you practice until the new grip becomes your habitual grip.

You can change almost any habit in the same way— your work habits, your approach to a sport, the way you drive or stand, the way you speak. But I found that there's one thing about the smoking habit that's unique. There isn't any other physical activity you can substitute for it.

Sure, you can nibble on mints, chew gum, drink water, or even suck your thumb if you wish—but don't tell any cigarette smoker that anything other than tobacco will satisfy his craving for a smoke.

Let me list some of the "new habits" that didn't work for me.
—Carrying a pipe, clamping it in my teeth when I wanted a cigarette. I felt silly.
—Carrying a cigarette, holding it, even putting it to my lips, but not lighting it. (Eventually I lit it.)
—Daily use of pills that were supposed to make cigarettes taste evil. They did, and so I stopped using the pills. (The cigarettes then tasted just fine.)
—Chewing gum. Have you ever chewed thirty sticks of gum in one day?
—Eating mints. Fine for after dinner, but have you recently tried a mint with your morning coffee?
—Cutting my cigarettes in half, since that would "cut my smoking in half." I learned that the closer the burning tars and nicotine are to the mouth, the graver the danger. This seemed to be jumping from one conflagration to another.
—Carrying just three cigarettes with me—one to follow each meal. But have you ever counted the number of cigarettes offered you in one day of normal business life? It's formidable.
—Betting. I hate to admit this, but there have been many times when just one cigarette seemed worth the five dollars I thereby committed myself to paying.
—Rewarding myself. I'd make a deal with myself. "Jack, if you just give up smoking, you can have that new set of golf clubs you want." Two days later: "Your old clubs are good enough, Heise!"