Nicotine pouch restriction makes quitting harder for workers

I’m 32, I work construction, and I grew up in Saint John. Like a lot of guys my age, I started smoking young. By the time I hit my twenties, I was burning through a pack a day. I tried the usual options: patches, gum, hypnosis. None of them worked for long.

What finally did work was the new nicotine pouches. No smoke, no smell, no stepping off-site in the middle of the day. I could manage cravings without losing time or showing up reeking of cigarettes. Within months, I wasn’t buying smokes anymore. My sleep improved. I felt healthier.

A year ago, Ottawa decided to make access to pouches very difficult. They shoved pouches behind the pharmacy counter and, from my vantage point, that makes no sense. Pharmacies close early and often don’t have stock. In the attempt to not buy cigarettes and quit smoking, I’ve driven around Saint John and out to Quispamsis and Rothesay to find them. Meanwhile, every corner store still has shelves full of cigarettes. Evidently there is a problem here.

This issue is about more than convenience. It’s about class and access.

White-collar professionals in big cities might have flexible hours to swing by a pharmacy. Working guys on job sites don’t have that privilege. When policy makes it harder for everyday people to get safer alternatives, it’s not really about “public health.” It’s about moralizing addiction. We treat nicotine as a sin instead of a substance. Experts in Europe and North America recognize that supporting safer nicotine alternatives is central to reducing smoking harms.

And that moralizing has consequences. Guys I know across New Brunswick were cutting back or quitting until these new rules hit. Now some are smoking again. Studies show when safer products are restricted, smoking comes back: after San Francisco banned flavored vapes, high school cigarette smoking increased, and U.S. states that cracked down on alternatives saw young adult cigarette use rise too. Meanwhile, Sweden embraced oral tools like snus and now has the lowest smoking and lung cancer rates in Europe.

There’s a bigger picture here. Canada already struggles with access to health care with long ER waits, no family doctors, and delays for mental support. When the government actively blocks products that help some people quit smoking, it piles even more pressure on the system. Fewer smokers can result in fewer hospital admissions for cancer and heart disease. Isn’t that the real priority?

The biggest hypocrisy is we don’t bat an eye at the open sale of alcohol, lottery tickets, and cigarettes. The same corner store that sells a carton of smokes without question suddenly can’t sell you a pouch that might help you quit. That’s not logical health policy. It’s hypocrisy.

I’m asking Wayne Long and other MPs in our region to press Marjorie Michel, the new health minister, to reverse the ban. Put pouches back in stores so guys like me can quit for good.

In Saint John we take pride in hard work and straight talk. Making it harder for people to quit smoking is nothing to be proud of. It’s bad policy, and it’s bad for our health.

Michael Sullivan is a construction worker from Saint John.