No ifs or butts for cig ban

This May 1, while most of us were celebrating Labor Day with some well-deserved laziness, I was in mourning. I wore black and lowered the shades in remembrance of what could have been, of what should have been - the Beijing smoking ban that is now two years old and that has all the force of a human of the same age.

New subway lines, the Bird's Nest, queues for buses, all very nice. But the ban was supposed to be the crowning jewel of Beijing's Olympic improvement program. Countries we claim to have surpassed in economic might and glory - France, Germany, Australia - all boast smoke-free facilities. You can take a deep whiff of your Beaujolais in Paris, bite your schnitzel in Berlin, sip your Fosters in Sydney, and need never fear a cloud of smoke marring the experience.

OK, in Beijing you don't have to get into smoke-filled cabs anymore, but we should be doing a whole lot better. After all, it was our ancestor Confucius who set the standard for humanity - treat people the way you want to be treated.