‘Gentlemen, you may smoke.’
— King Edward VII, 1901
Writing a column is, for me, a moment of calm. A brief respite from reading criminal case files or answering emails; instead, I light a fine cigar and reflect on the words I want to commit to paper.
It cannot be rushed, squeezed in between other activities, and certainly not without the wonderful aroma of a Nicaraguan cigar.
Such moments of tranquillity seem to be becoming increasingly rare.
Things used to be better in that respect. Or, to put it more precisely: the world moved more slowly. More precisely still: people generally took more time to deal with matters consciously and thoughtfully. We were not constantly distracted by a vibrating little device.
Today, we do not have less time than we used to. Rather, we have forgotten how to take our time. Everything has to be faster. Fleeting attention has become the new normal. For the avoidance of doubt, I am certainly no opponent of technological progress. I merely observe that its pace has become so rapid over the past twenty years that slowing down periodically might well lead to a better quality of life.
Even pioneers from the world of artificial intelligence have recently warned of its adverse consequences for society. Paradoxically, the architects of technological speed are themselves calling for us to slow down.
The political class, too, seems infected by the virus of speed. React quickly, communicate quickly, become outraged quickly, and above all move quickly on to the next subject. There is little room left for deliberation.
The President of the Belgian Parliament recently warned that, thanks to artificial intelligence, members of parliament can produce an almost unlimited number of parliamentary questions. When speed and quantity take the place of reflection, sound legislation becomes more difficult as well.
A very tangible consequence of this political zeal is something the aficionado notices nowadays when entering a cigar shop. What was once a pleasant pastime in an inviting setting has been reduced to a clinical visit. Browsing is impossible, choosing is regulated, and enjoyment seems almost to have become something one must justify.
Surely that cannot be the intention of a free, liberally minded democracy. When rational minds engage in a substantive debate based on the correct premises, a different outcome ought to be possible.
Yet here, too, the same hurdle must be overcome; the same prerequisite is needed in order to reach a well-considered conclusion.
Time.
Slowing down.
Perhaps the solution lies in one of the pleasures enjoyed by the readers of this magazine. From now on, no more notepads in the meeting room, but a well-stocked humidor instead. A cigar cannot be hurried; it demands attention and invites calm debate.
In the nineteenth century, Queen Victoria reigned over the United Kingdom. She reportedly had such an aversion to tobacco smoke that smoking was forbidden in her presence and in the royal apartments. When she died in 1901 and her son Edward VII ascended the throne, he told those present:
‘Gentlemen, you may smoke.’
For the coming parliamentary year, I therefore wish our politicians the necessary moments of repose, cigar in hand, so that reason may prevail and decisions are taken only once the smoke has slowly cleared.
