
I felt a mixture of annoyance and relief when I bought my first non-disposable Elf Bar last weekend, ahead of the disposable vape ban. Relieved, because to all intents and purposes, the new vape is identical to the old one. It looks the same, tastes the same and costs the same. The only difference is that when you give it a tug, a ‘reusable’ pod slides out. Annoyed, because after all the fuss over the ban over the past few years – panicked headlines, furious parents, relentless lobbying – vaping is effectively unchanged. What a waste of time and energy.
In the next few days, a third emotion started to creep in: fear. I can’t be the only one to have noticed that the new vapes are just as delicious and, in practice, as disposable as the old ones. I can already picture the shock, horror and outrage of the anti-vape coalition as they realise it too. Now instead of claiming victory and moving on to their next target, they will double down and push for a total ban.
That is the state of play in China, birthplace of the Elf Bar. These vapes, launched in 2018 by Chinese entrepreneur Zhang Shengwei’s Shenzhen iMiracle, are banned in the country that makes them. Not that this has held the company back: 2.5 million are sold each week in Britain alone.
The second battle in the war on vapes is already under way. Proposals for bland, flavourless, sludge-coloured vapes, bereft of the joy and pleasure of their predecessors, are being considered by the government.
If the anti-vape coalition wins this round, I fear I’ll be forced back to cigarettes.

Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in