What's the answer, then, if there is no tranquilizing or narcotic effect in smoking? How does a cigarette produce undeniably calming sensations? Or, to be more precise, if there are actually irritating and stimulating substances in the smoke, known to interfere with relaxation (as there are!), where does the seemingly calming effect come from?
 
It isn't as contradictory as it may appear.

The point overlooked in these personal statements is "I took time out to light a cigarette." Put the emphasis on "time out"—and forget about the smoking —and you've found the secret. You break concentration by the simple mechanical act of "taking time out" to light and puff on a cigarette.

And it's the act of breaking concentration—whether you forget momentarily about a putt in golf, or take your mind off your work, or divert your attention from fears and anxieties—that results in your feeling of relaxation and release.

With a concentration break, you can begin to forget about cigarettes

Let's examine this more closely. Suppose you're worried about something. You're anxious about a telephone call that may bring either good or bad news. Or you're waiting for word in a hospital.

You light a cigarette, and there's a momentary feeling of relaxation.

The tobacco isn't soothing to your nerves or tissue. But letting your mind move away from your problems long enough to light up and think about smoking will cause a genuine relaxed feeling. When you're concentrating on a problem or a situation or even on an event that's perfectly pleasant, you don't know what's coming next.

The future is unknown. But when you pop a cigarette from the pack, the future is known. The gesture is familiar, the results are predictable— and therefore the ritual is reassuring. You exchange a known sequence for an unknown.
 

When you couple an "old shoe" routine with a diverting shift of focus, relaxation must result.
It's just as easy as that.

You can prove this to yourself. The next time you feel the urge to smoke, don't light up. Instead, take three deep breaths and deliberately shift your mind from whatever you've been thinking about. Think about something else—something pleasant—for a few moments. The need for a cigarette will pass without discomfort.

This is only a quick illustration of relaxation, and you will receive instructions for a much more effective method later—but it is sufficient for this little test.

Did a smoke ever calm you when you were in big trouble?

Further proof that it's the break in concentration that relaxes you, not the cigarette, lies in the fact that on those occasions when you've been concentrating on some extremely important problem, you may take only a puff or two and then let the cigarette burn itself out while you return to your work.

Often, when I was smoking and writing, I'd find two or three cigarettes burning at the same time.

Now look at it another way. Think back to a time when you were deeply worried, tense and jumpy. Perhaps someone was ill. Perhaps there was a personal problem concerning your job. Did you smoke excessively? Did that excessive smoking really provide relaxation, or did it merely result in a "smoked out" feeling—thick tongue and raw throat?

One other element of this theory that "cigarettes relax me" is interesting. Just the conviction that the statement is true is sufficient to give it some validity.

For example, you’ve heard about "placebos." They're pills, usually, that contain no medicine, and they're sometimes given to patients so that the patients will think they're getting medication. Hypochondriacs are given them very frequently; says the doctor as he dispenses a dozen of these colorful capsules of nothing, "This is a new preparation, Mrs. Smith. I think it will help you."

And do you know what? The "new preparation" does help! By swallowing placebos people lose weight, gain weight, are freed from migraine headaches, hear better, see better, gain relief from aches, are "tranquilized," or abound with new energy.
It's wonderful what conviction can do!

Remember those fraternity initiations where they pretended to be heating a branding iron so that the boys could "brand" their victim? The poor initiate would first see the flames; then he'd see the branding iron; then he'd see it placed in the fire; then he'd be blindfolded. And then, to the accompaniment of sizzling noises, something would be pressed hard against his skin.

He'd shriek with pain! He could feel the heat! But what had been pressed against him was merely an ice cube. A powerful thing, conviction!

If for twenty years you had been told dozens of times a day that you could relax simply by shrugging your shoulders several times, the gesture would probably work. It would provide a brief "concentration break" while you shifted your mental focus  from present problems to moving your shoulder muscles. And since you'd be convinced that it had always worked, it would of course work again.

Are you beginning to see that you don't need cigarettes to relax?