How is it possible that young people have started smoking more instead of becoming the 'smoke-free generation'?

Vapes have become very popular in a relatively short time. This is not surprising: smoking flammable cigarettes (cigars or pipes) is prohibited in ever more public places. In addition, smokers who wanted to quit smoking were offered the option of doing so gradually by means of nicotine patches or vapes with the idea that they would experience fewer withdrawal symptoms.

A vape does not necessarily need to contain nicotine, it may also contain CBD or even just a flavour..

To the dismay of many parents, vapes has gradually changed from a means to quit smoking, to the 'entry method' for teenagers to become addicted to nicotine upon which they may also start smoking. It has now reached the point where 1 in 7 Dutch youngsters aged 12-16 years uses a vape at least once a month.

Pulmonologists are sounding the alarm because it appears that vapes also cause lung damage.

The Netherlands is leading the way in trying to discourage young people from starting to vape by being the first country in Europe to ban flavoured vapes. Since the Netherlands was among the first European country to do so, it is child's play to get flavoured vapes by ordering them abroad or buying them under the counter.

In short, the minds are being prepared to ban young people from using vapes and they also want to restrict advertising for them.

The point of this article, however, is not so much to what extent vaping is dangerous to health, since anyone with a few brain cells can figure that out for themselves, but the question of whether vapes have now been 'pushed' by the tobacco industry.

The reason for this was a rather macabre but well-made video clip "Smuggler's Blues" (Glenn Frey, 1985) from the eighties that my husband sent me with the comment that it made him feel nostalgic. An entire movie unfolds in less than five and a half minutes. The first thing I noticed was that almost everyone in that video is smoking!

As we now know, actors or movie producers used to be paid by the tobacco industry to portray actors smoking. Is that still the case and does it apply to vapes or is that a completely different 'industry'?

Are influencers or actors paid for smoking?

There’s no definitive evidence that influencers or actors are consistently paid specifically to smoke in movies as a standard practice. However, the idea stems from historical ties between the tobacco industry and Hollywood. In the mid-20th century, tobacco companies like Philip Morris and American Tobacco did pay studios, actors, and production teams to feature smoking prominently in films as a form of product placement. For example, in the 1930s and 1940s, stars like Clark Gable and Joan Crawford were sometimes contracted to smoke on-screen to glamorize cigarettes, often with free smokes or direct payments from brands.

Today, it’s less straightforward. In the USA, it has been illegal since 1998 to have paid tobacco product placement in movies, TV, and other media, at least from major cigarette companies. Studies still find a correlation between smoking in movies and youth smoking rates, leading to speculation that some modern instances might involve subtle incentives—think free products, sponsorships, or indirect pressure from brands with vested interests. But hard proof of cash changing hands for a puff on-screen is scarce post-1998.
Anecdotally, some actors and influencers might smoke in roles because it fits the character or aesthetic (think gritty antiheroes or retro vibes), not because they’re on a tobacco payroll.

Directors and writers often decide it independently. Nic Pizzolatto, creator of True Detective, said Rust Cohle’s smoking was just part of his “existential despair,” not a paid plug. On the flip side, vape companies have been caught paying influencers on platforms like Instagram to push e-cigarettes, which suggests the practice hasn’t died out entirely—just shifted.

There’s no definitive, publicly available proof—like leaked contracts or court-admissible documents—showing that actors are currently being paid specifically to smoke in movies.
However, suspicion lingers due to historical precedent and ongoing patterns.

Historically, tobacco companies shelled out lots of money to get their brands into films, including payments to stars like Sylvester Stallone ($500,000 for five movies), Sean Connery, and Paul Newman, often in cash, cars, or jewelry.

This stopped—or at least went underground after 1998. Since then, no smoking gun has emerged to confirm direct payments in recent years.
Still, tobacco imagery persists. A 2024 report notes that 9 out of 10 Best Picture nominees that year featured smoking, and tobacco incidents in top streaming shows for 15- to 24-year-olds jumped 110% from 2021 to 2022.

A 2012 Surgeon General report and later studies link on-screen smoking to youth tobacco use, fueling speculation that indirect influence might still exist—say, through loopholes like personal endorsements or foreign markets. But speculation isn’t proof.

On Twitter/X, users occasionally claim insider knowledge—posts like “actors still get perks from Big Tobacco, just quieter now” pop up—but it’s anecdotal, not evidence. Web searches turn up no recent lawsuits or whistleblower leaks exposing payments post-1998. The closest you get is vape companies paying influencers on social media, which is documented, but that’s a different beast from movie actors.
The lack of proof doesn’t mean it’s not happening—just that it’s unproven.

How has this habit of paying influencers shifted to e-cigarettes?

The shift from paying influencers to promote traditional tobacco products to e-cigarettes reflects both a strategic pivot by the tobacco industry and an adaptation to changing regulations and market trends.

Historically, tobacco companies like Philip Morris and British American Tobacco paid influencers—actors, celebrities, and later social media personalities—to glamorize smoking, as seen in mid-20th-century Hollywood deals and more recent covert social media campaigns. By the early 2000s, with stricter advertising bans like the 1998 Master Settlement Agreement (MSA) in the U.S. curbing traditional cigarette promotion, the industry sought new avenues to maintain influence, especially among younger demographics.

E-cigarettes emerged as a perfect vehicle. Introduced widely in the mid-2000s, they weren’t initially classified as tobacco products under many regulatory frameworks, creating a gray area that companies exploited. The shift gained momentum around 2015, when brands launched aggressive influencer campaigns on platforms like Instagram and Twitter.

JUUL, for instance, employed a dedicated social media team to seed its 2015 launch with influencers—models, musicians, and lifestyle bloggers—posting sleek, youth-appealing content. Posts often framed vaping as a trendy, harmless alternative to smoking, with hashtags like #VapeLife, racking up millions of views. A 2018 Stanford study called JUUL’s early ads “patently youth-oriented,” highlighting their role in sparking the youth vaping surge.

Big Tobacco followed suit. After Altria (Philip Morris’s parent) took a 35% stake in JUUL in 2018, and British American Tobacco pushed its Vype and Velo brands, the playbook evolved but echoed past tactics: pay influencers to normalize use, often without disclosing sponsorship.

A 2018 Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids investigation found tobacco giants orchestrating over 100 social media campaigns across 40+ countries, pivoting from cigarettes to e-cigarettes and nicotine pouches. Influencers were coached to post “natural” content—think DJs vaping at parties or gamers showing off sleek devices—bypassing ad bans with subtle branding.

On Instagram in 2020, 55 influencers with over 1,000 followers each were linked to 640 e-cigarette brands, per a Tobacco Control study, despite platform policies against sponsored tobacco content.
The shift wasn’t just about dodging regulations; it aligned with a rebranding effort. Companies pitched e-cigarettes as “harm reduction” tools, a narrative influencers amplified.
Philip Morris’s IQOS, a heated tobacco device, leaned on influencers in markets like the Czech Republic to sell an “aspirational, healthy” vibe. Meanwhile, vape companies like RELX in China used pricing strategies post-2022 tax hikes to keep products affordable, pairing this with influencer hype to maintain youth appeal.
Posts on Twitter/X reflect ongoing skepticism about this shift, with users noting how tobacco firms regained vape market control after early independent brands got squeezed by regulations like the FDA’s 2020 flavor bans.

The habit persists—less overt payments to movie stars, more to TikTok creators or Twitch streamers—but the goal remains: hook a new generation, now with clouds of vapour instead of smoke. Data’s thin on exact payments today due to enforcement gaps, but the pattern’s clear from past exposés and current social media trends.

What damage can using e-cigarettes cause in relation to smoking cigarettes?

E-cigarettes and traditional cigarettes both deliver nicotine and pose health risks, but the nature and extent of the damage differ due to how they work and what’s in them. Cigarettes burn tobacco, producing smoke with over 7,000 chemicals, including 70+ known carcinogens like tar, benzene, and formaldehyde.

E-cigarettes heat a liquid (usually containing nicotine, propylene glycol, vegetable glycerin, and flavorings) into an aerosol, avoiding combustion and reducing the number of toxicants—but not eliminating harm.

Lung damage: cigarette smoke wreaks havoc on lungs through tar and carbon monoxide, driving chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) and lung cancer. A 2020 Lancet study pegged smoking as the top cause of lung cancer globally, with a 20- to 30-fold risk increase for long-term smokers.
E-cigarettes skip the tar but can still irritate lungs. The In 2019 an evaluation of e-cigarette or vaping-associated lung injury linked 2,807 hospitalizations and 68 deaths in the U.S. to vaping, often tied to THC additives like vitamin E acetate, per the CDC.
Studies in 2022 show vaping alters lung proteins and boosts inflammation, potentially raising risks for chronic bronchitis or fibrosis over time.

Heart damage: both harm the cardiovascular system, but cigarettes are worse. Smoking doubles heart attack risk and triples stroke risk via arterial plaque buildup.
E-cigarettes elevate blood pressure and heart rate too—nicotine’s the culprit—but vapers had less arterial stiffness than smokers after switching, suggesting lower but not zero risk. Still, flavours like cinnamaldehyde in e-liquids can impair blood vessel function.

Cancer risk: cigarettes are a cancer juggernaut—lung, throat, mouth, pancreas, you name it—due to those carcinogens.
E-cigarettes produce fewer, but not none. Formaldehyde and acetaldehyde form when e-liquids overheat, especially in high-wattage devices.

A 2023 Cancer Research paper found DNA damage in vapers’ oral cells similar to smokers’, hinting at long-term risk, though cancer rates from vaping aren’t yet as clear-cut given its shorter history.

Addiction: nicotine’s the tie that binds. Cigarettes deliver it fast and hard, with additives like ammonia boosting absorption.
E-cigarettes vary. The popular US brand JUUL’s nicotine salts mimic cigarettes’ kick, hitting 50 mg/mL, while others range lower.
Vapers and smokers report similar dependence levels, though vaping’s cleaner delivery might make quitting cigarettes easier for some.

Secondhand effects: cigarette smoke’s secondhand toll is brutal with 41,000 deaths yearly in the USA.
E-cigarette aerosol has fewer toxins, but a 2021 study detected nicotine and ultrafine particles in bystanders’ air, suggesting milder but real risks, especially indoors.

Relative harm: vaping is 95% less harmful than smoking, based on toxicant exposure—but “less harmful” isn’t “safe.” Long-term data’s still thin, especially for kids who start vaping and never smoked.
Cigarettes are the deadlier baseline; e-cigarettes trade some of that acute damage for chronic unknowns.
In short, cigarettes trash your body faster and broader; e-cigarettes dial back the carnage but still nick your lungs, heart, and maybe your DNA.

How much can e-cigarettes damage your DNA?

Using e-cigarettes can pose risks to your DNA, primarily through damage that might increase the chances of mutations, cancer, or other cellular dysfunction over time. While traditional cigarettes are far worse due to their barrage of carcinogens, e-cigarettes aren’t off the hook—here’s how they mess with your genetic code.

The main culprits in e-cigarette aerosol are aldehydes (like formaldehyde, acetaldehyde, and acrolein), formed when e-liquids are heated, especially at high temperatures or with powerful devices. A 2015 study discovered how vaping at 5 volts (versus 3.3 volts) spiked formaldehyde levels to amounts rivaling cigarette smoke—enough to form DNA adducts, which are chemical attachments that disrupt DNA’s structure. These adducts, if unrepaired, can cause miscoding during DNA replication, potentially leading to mutations.


A 2023 Cancer Research study dug deeper, analyzing oral and cheek cells from vapers and smokers. Vapers showed DNA damage patterns—specifically, double-strand breaks and oxidative stress—similar to smokers, though less severe. Oxidative stress comes from reactive oxygen species (ROS) in the aerosol, which overwhelm your cells’ defenses and nick DNA strands. The study found vapers had about 2.6 times more DNA damage than non-users, while smokers hit 3.5 times—cigarettes win the harm race, but vaping’s not benign.

Nicotine itself plays a role too. In human lung and bladder cells exposed to nicotine and its metabolites (like nitrosamines), DNA repair mechanisms got gummed up. Vaping delivers nicotine without combustion, but the metabolites still form—NNK, a tobacco-specific nitrosamine, has been detected in vapers’ urine. NNK is a known DNA damager, linked to lung cancer in smokers, and its presence in vapers suggests a shared risk pathway, albeit at lower levels.

Flavorings add another twist. Diacetyl (buttery taste) and cinnamaldehyde (cinnamon) can cross into cells and trigger inflammation, indirectly stressing DNA via ROS.
In another study on human bronchial cells exposed to e-liquid flavors discovered changs in gene expression tied to DNA repair and cancer pathways, which are early red flags.

Long-term, this DNA damage might stack up. A 2022 study on mice exposed to e-cig aerosol for a year saw epigenetic shifts—changes in how DNA is read, that mirror early cancer precursors in smokers.

Human data’s still maturing since vaping’s only been widespread for about 15 years, but chronic exposure could nudge cells toward malignancy, especially in young users whose DNA repair is still developing.
Compared to cigarettes, the DNA hit from e-cigarettes is lighter—fewer carcinogens, less exposure per puff—but it’s not zero.

Cigarettes flood you with 70+ DNA-attacking chemicals; vaping’s more like a slow drip of a handful. The risk hinges on dose, device, and time—chain-vaping at high watts with sketchy liquids amps it up.

How smoking causes stress rather than stimulate relaxation

Smoking’s often pitched as a stress-buster, but it’s more of a stress amplifier in disguise. The nicotine in cigarettes (or e-cigarettes) does give a quick hit—within seconds of inhaling, it spikes dopamine, mimicking a brief “relaxed” buzz. But that’s a short-lived trick.

Here’s how it flips the script.
Nicotine’s a stimulant—it revs up your heart rate, blood pressure, and adrenaline, putting your body in a mild fight-or-flight mode. That’s the opposite of calm; it’s physiological stress. After that initial buzz fades (within 20-30 minutes), withdrawal kicks in—irritability, anxiety, and tension creep up as your brain craves the next dose.

A 2014 study found smokers report higher baseline stress levels than non-smokers, largely because they’re stuck in this cycle: smoke to ease withdrawal stress, then stress out waiting for the next cigarette.
Cigarettes don’t fix external stressors either—they add to them. The habit’s cost, stigma, and health worries (like coughing or shortness of breath) pile on mental strain. Quitting smokers feel less stressed after a few weeks, once withdrawal eases, suggesting smoking itself fuels the fire it claims to put out.

Physically, it trashes relaxation too—carbon monoxide cuts oxygen flow, making your body work harder, while toxins inflame systems that should be chilling out.
The relaxation myth comes from association: smokers light up during breaks or tough moments, linking it to relief that’s really just withdrawal relief, not true calm. In reality, it’s a stressor masquerading as a sedative—keeping you hooked on edge, not at ease.

How does the stress from vaping withdrawal compares to smoking withdrawal?

Stress from vaping versus smoking shares some roots (nicotine’s the main player in both), but differs in intensity, delivery, and side effects due to how each hits your system. Here’s the breakdown.

Nicotine-driven stress cycle: both vaping and smoking spike stress through nicotine’s stimulant effects. It jacks up heart rate, blood pressure, and adrenaline, putting your body on edge. After the quick dopamine “calm” (10-30 minutes), withdrawal kicks in—anxiety, restlessness, cravings—trapping you in a stress-relief-stress loop.
A 2014 British study ties this cycle to higher overall stress in smokers; vapers likely ride a similar wave, though data’s less robust. Vaping’s nicotine salts (like in JUUL) can deliver a cigarette-like punch—up to 50 mg/mL—making withdrawal stress as sharp for heavy users.

Intensity and speed: smoking’s edge is harsher. Cigarettes deliver nicotine fast via combustion, alongside 7,000+ chemicals, including carbon monoxide, which starves oxygen and strains your system more, amplifying physical stress.
Vaping’s aerosol skips most of that toxic soup, relying on propylene glycol and glycerin—less immediate strain, but still a jolt.

A 2021 review found vapers had less arterial stiffness than smokers, hinting at a lighter cardiovascular stress load.
Still, high-wattage vaping can overheat liquids, spiking aldehydes that irritate lungs and add subtle stress.

Withdrawal timing: smoking’s chemical stew makes withdrawal hit harder and faster—smokers often feel antsy within an hour.
Vaping’s cleaner nicotine can stretch that window slightly, especially with lower doses, but chain-vapers match smokers’ twitchiness. The stress feels similar; vaping just tweaks the tempo.

Psychological stressors: smoking’s stigma, smell, and health scares (coughing, cancer risk) heap on mental stress—external pressures vaping dodges somewhat. Vaping’s marketed as “cool” or “safer,” easing that guilt, but it’s got its own baggage: device malfunctions, cost, or health fears. Vapers stress less about judgment, more about hardware or bans—different flavor, same grind.

Net stress: smoking’s a heavier stress hammer—more toxins, worse withdrawal, bigger life toll. Ex-smokers’ stress drop post-quit; vaping switchers report milder relief, suggesting it’s less of a beast but still a burden. Vaping’s stress is sneakier—less brutal physically, but the addiction treadmill keeps you tense. Cigarettes grind you down; vaping just keeps you wound up.

What's the best advise for parents whose kids may start smoking e-cigarettes?

Parents should keep it straightforward and firm when advising kids about e-cigarettes: don’t start, because they’re not safe, they’re addictive, and the long-term risks are still unfolding. Lay out the facts—e-cigarettes have nicotine that hooks your brain fast, especially when you’re young and it’s still wiring up, making it harder to quit later. Tell them the aerosol isn’t harmless water vapor; it’s got chemicals like formaldehyde that can mess with your lungs and even your DNA over time, even if it’s less brutal than cigarette smoke. Point out the unknowns—vaping’s too new for us to know the full damage after decades, but early signs show it can be quite damaging.

Make it real: companies push flavors like mango or candy to reel kids in, not to be cool, but to profit off addiction. Warn them it’s not a “healthy” swap for smoking—it’s a trap that can lead there anyway. Set the rule: no vaping, period, and back it up with why it’s not worth the gamble on their health. If they’re curious, say it’s smarter to ask questions than to try it. Stay friendly to keep communicating,but be clear and firm!