Moreover, what else in America is so ideally fitted to informal sociability? The Indians extended the peace- pipe; we say "Have a cigarette." We can say it to a new acquaintance; the gesture breaks the ice, and costs us less than a penny and a half. We don't hesitate (well, many of us don't) to ask a stranger for a light (and imagine how many friendships have begun that way). When conversation lags, and boredom might result, the gap can be filled with a cigarette and all the chatter and gestures that go with it. Cigarettes are social first aid for the teen-ager, and their usefulness lingers on. After oxygen, water and food, in that order, tobacco is the fourth item of human consumption (no pun intended).

In sum, then, I realized that I had waited with expectancy for the day—thirty years in the past—when I could first smoke in public. I had rehearsed for it, and I had learned to like the taste, the feel, the look, and the many social uses of cigarettes. I still did.
I continued to smoke. And as you know, I wasn't alone.
 
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!"

THERE'S NO HABIT LIKE THE SMOKING HABIT

There's no use kidding ourselves. Nothing is like the cigarette habit. And it makes little difference in the long run whether it is de-nicotinized or filtered with a filter-tip—some nicotine and coal tar get in your mouth and down your throat, no matter what precautions you may try to take.

No habit is quite as demanding, either. Scientists call a man a "moderate" smoker if he smokes from fifteen to twenty-five cigarettes a day. A "heavy" smoker consumes twenty-five or more a day. Many heavy smokers go through from two to three packs a day.
For a moment let's assume that you smoke a pack a day.

A cigarette "lasts" about seven minutes. To begin with, then, 140 minutes of your day—two hours and twenty minutes of your day—are partially occupied by this habit.

More time than that, however, is involved. The cigarettes have to be bought, placed in pocket or purse, fished out when desired, popped from the pack, and then lit.

Would it be fair to say that almost three hours of your day are in some part devoted to your habit, if you're only a "moderate" smoker?
Can you think of any other habit that occupies that much time?

Psychologists have long known that it's nearly impossible to break a habit unless you can substitute another habit for the old, unwanted one. The person who bites his nails is often told to substitute the less noxious habit of chewing gum. But can you think of any other habit that will fill three hours of your day?

Furthermore, smoking is not just one habit... it is, for the regular smoker, a part of many habitual things he does throughout the day.
 

IT'S PART OF OUR LIFE FROM MORNING TILL NIGHT

For some of us, a cigarette is the instrument that trumpets in the beginning of a bright new day. It is part of our habitual pattern of awaking, dressing, having breakfast, glancing at the morning headlines.

For a commuter, stepping off the bus or train or subway and lighting up are coupled actions—a habitual pattern.

When you stop smoking as the result of reading and applying the techniques in this book, you will not miss cigarettes per se—but for the first three days, you'll have a somewhat "incomplete" feeling. Something will be "missing." You”ll be glad that it's missing, and yet its absence will nevertheless be something of which you will be acutely conscious.