"talking back" is on-the-spot testing of the manufacturer's claims.
There's a quick way to test any claims made by anybody, be he salesman or politician. You simply ask three questions:
"How come?"
"So what?"
"Who says?"

These nasty questions probe to the heart of any statement. If a statistic is thrown at you, they enable you to test the validity of that statistic, its source and its significance. If cigarette smoking is somehow equated with desirable things, these questions get the images back down to earth.

For a number of legal reasons, I cannot quote actual advertisements. So while I sort of hum the tunes, you fill in the words. The first thing you'll notice is that no cigarette advertiser claims that his product is good for you.

That's a thing of the past, and I see no reason to recall yesterday's sins. But the advertiser does try to get you to "identify" his cigarette with "things" that are good for you. With health and agility and youthful radiance. With people who don't cough (actors and singers), with people who can't be short of wind (athletes), with people who should know a lot about science and health (anybody in a white jacket).

Get to recognize this "transfer of identity." Get so you can say, "I know that swimming's good for me, Mac. But cigarettes aren't." Be ready to tell the pitchman that you love the American landscape as much as anybody else, but that this doesn't mean that you should also love cancer-causing tars.

LEARN ALL THE SALES TRICKS THAT ARE USED

The advertiser wants you to feel that the best people (which generally means young people, rich people, incredibly handsome and beautiful people, and above all healthy people) smoke his brand. So if you want to "get with 'em," you'd better smoke the advertised brand, too.
"Wait!" you'd better tell him. "I'm smoking one of your other brands! An hour ago you showed me that I could be young, rich, handsome and healthy if I smoked Flubbs. Now you want me to switch to Gribbles. That isn't fair!"

And think about those people in the ads, too. Don't they ever cough? And why do they smile so broadly at the first puff? Do they like that whiff of phosphorous oxides from the end of the match? (Good—you're fighting the fleeting "image" they want you to have: that their cigarettes are pure pleasure.)

And listen carefully to the comparisons. Mac (or the model in the white jacket) will tell you that the tobacco in his cigarette is "purer." Purer than what, Mac? Purer than it was last week? Or purer than the other brands your company makes? Or purer than pure tar? So very pure that the tars in it won't give a mouse cancer?

BE MEAN-DO WHAT THEY SAY!

Above all, give them a sporting chance. When the models light up, you should, too. When the announcer describes the myriad joys to be had from his cigarette, it's time for you to take a deep drag. Hold it for a moment. Don't exhale immediately. Are you getting a little dizzy? Aren't you about to cough? Is this really what your poor throat needs?

Tell Mac. Tell him that the smoke doesn't go down like syrup—it stings like you-know-what. Let's break that image, too. Cigarettes aren't honey and champagne and sweet cider and pure spring water all in one. They burn.

When you read or hear the cigarette company slogans, add a few choice words to them. If Flubbs says that it offers you some sort of additional protection, you can then volunteer interesting information about the things they're protecting you from. For example, the fellow who smokes two packs or more a day has a seventy times greater chance of lung cancer, according to one unbiased source, than the man who doesn't smoke anything. Tell the announcers about that—do you think they know it?

When you come to the advertisements for the filter-tips and the mentholated and the mentholated-with-filter-tips, you'll be at your busiest. For one thing, they make a smoke into something more than a smoke. It becomes an adventure—with sports cars, canoes, high diving, mountain climbing, and all sorts of wonderful things.

So much happens so fast that it's hard to remind the people you hear on the radio and watch on television that while filters are really swell and probably a great improvement, they don't quite catch all those nasty ingredients. They don't even seem to filter out the stuff that makes you cough, snore, and clear your throat.

Tell Mac that you're puffing away on a filter-tip right now, and describe your sensations. Do they match his?

If he glowingly describes the frigid qualities of his mentholated brand, you'd better remind him that the smoke entering your mouth is still pretty hot, produced at a burning tip hot enough to char paper and wood. And no matter what, hot smoke raises the temperature of your lips and mouth. "Mac," you should say, "please get the facts straight. I'm beginning to lose faith in you."

Poor Mac—you're going to get him confused.
But you'll be setting yourself straight.

OTHER COUNTRIES ARE CLAMPING DOWN

And if you ever find yourself feeling silly about fighting the dangers of cigarette advertising as it presently exists, consider this:
Italy and Great Britain have already cracked down on cigarette advertisers. The West German government is currently considering an anti-cigarette campaign to be financed, nicely enough, with half of the $1,000,000 it collects in the form of cigarette taxes.

The British government has sponsored an advertising campaign of its own; posters proclaim smoking as a hazard. British tobacco companies have agreed to take cigarette advertising off television during children's viewing hours.