Blame Tolkien and Lewis.

I became an avid reader in graduate school, and the deeper I went, the more I kept landing at the same table. A group of friends in Oxford — Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, a handful of others — who called themselves the Inklings, and who met in a pub they nicknamed the Bird and Baby with their pipes lit, arguing for hours about myth, faith, language, and what makes a story true. Tolkien loved his pipe so much he wrote it straight into Middle-earth: the hobbits and their pipe-weed, Old Toby and the Longbottom Leaf, Gandalf and Bilbo trading smoke rings before the adventure ever starts (and for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, go buy a copy of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings today). Lewis came to faith partly through one of those long, late conversations with Tolkien about myth becoming fact. They were devoted pipe men, and the pipe and the talk were of a piece — the thing in your hand that let men sit still long enough to actually get somewhere. I always wanted what they had. And instead of reading every last thing they ever wrote (which I'm still working on), I figured the fastest way to feel like them was to pick up a pipe and a cigar and see how it went. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, right?

However, having a cigar or a pipe all by your lonesome isn't really the way you feel like a group of men deep in conversation. You need brothers sitting next to you.

And that's where all of this took root: on my tiny second-floor balcony in St. Augustine, Florida.

I was in grad school. The balcony was barely big enough for a couple of chairs and a railing, but it faced west, and my college buddies and I would sit out there and watch the sun drop over the oldest city in America. We talked about life, exams we were certain we'd failed, friendship, and old stories that were almost certainly half-truths — but hey, never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Anyway. All of it came out in those plastic rocking chairs. There's a kind of conversation that only happens as the sun is going down, or when nobody's in a hurry to leave — and my buddies weren't going anywhere, since they crashed on my couch or floor all four years of grad school.

Every good evening on the balcony needs a libation of choice. Mine was Blanton's — which a grad student had no business affording. But my godfather would stake me a couple of bottles before each semester started, and how long they lasted told you everything about that stretch of life. A quiet few months and they'd make it to finals. A season of the "real" stuff — work, failed relationships, courses that were barely designed to be completed — and a couple of bottles might not see the end of a few weeks. I enjoyed mine the same way I still do today: over a single small cube of ice.

There's a particular calm that settles over me when I light a pipe or a cigar with a good book in my lap, my journal, or even out on the golf course with a buddy — a focus, a slowing of the gears, a quiet high. Part of that is real pharmacology; nicotine genuinely sharpens attention, and we'll get to that here in a little bit. But most of it is the ritual itself: the deliberate pause, the permission to do one thing slowly. And that same cigar or pipe does a social version of the same thing — hand one to a man, sit him down, and forty minutes later you're three layers deeper than months of small talk ever took you. The brotherhood gets built in that smoke, and I've lost count of how many times I've watched it happen since those nights on the balcony.

So that's the affection — and there's certainly a good deal of nostalgia built into how I feel about cigars and pipes. But I'm a grown man (or at least I tell myself that), and I'm not going to love a thing and then refuse to ask the obvious question about it. Are cigars and pipes actually safe? As a guy who enjoys reading research and tries to stay as evidence-based as possible in his professional work, digging into this was no different than anything else. I pay attention to every other facet of men's health — why would I avoid this one? So I went past the headlines and the lounge talk and read the body of evidence itself — the big reviews, the decades-long studies, the government's own scientific synthesis. I'm going to give you the honest details, which are far more useful than being scared or shrugging it off.

No, they are not "safe." But the literature is just as clear that they are not cigarettes. The whole truth lives in that gap.

The Myth of Cleaner Smoke

The main argument for pipes and cigars is that because they have fewer "ingredients" than cigarettes, they're in effect safer. And from a product standpoint, there's something to that — more ingredients is certainly not a good thing. Cigarettes are loaded: back in 1994 the major tobacco companies disclosed a list of 599 additives they were putting in cigarettes, and burning the finished product throws off something like 7,000 chemical compounds. So yes, a straight cigar or a simple pipe blend is a shorter list on paper. But two things. First, flavored cigars and aromatic pipe tobaccos aren't off the hook either — they're cased and flavored with humectants, sugars, and flavorings, so they carry plenty of added ingredients too. And second, the bigger problem: the resulting smoke doesn't care what's burning. It only cares that something is. Cigar and pipe smoke is chemically almost identical to cigarette smoke. The National Academies of Sciences, reviewing premium cigars for the FDA, concluded at the highest level of certainty that cigar emissions are chemically similar to a cigarette's — same carcinogens (molecules that cause or are closely linked to cancer), same carbon monoxide. Burning cured tobacco makes those not-so-great compounds no matter how fine the wrapper or how fancy the pipe. The danger isn't JUST in the ingredient list — it's the unstoppable result of lighting something on fire.

I recently heard Malcolm Guite — a poet and priest I deeply revere, a man steeped in the same Lewis-and-Tolkien world that pulled me in, and a devoted pipe man himself — make a brief case to Matt Fradd that a pipe is "better" for you because it's essentially one ingredient: just the leaf, nothing added. I love the man, and I understand the sentiment. But it isn't truthful, and the same reasoning falls apart for cigarettes too. "Additive-free" cigarettes exist, and the company that built a brand on pure tobacco was eventually forced to print a warning that no additives does not make a cigarette safer — because the carcinogens were never the additives. They're created the moment you set the leaf on fire. One pure ingredient, set on fire, still produces nitrosamines (a group of potent carcinogens formed from the tobacco itself during curing and burning), carbon monoxide, and the rest of the list. Purity of the input doesn't clean up the smoke, and trust me, I sure wish it did — but it simply doesn't.

The Big Four

If the smoke is the same, why is the disease so different? Well, there are two levers to this. Burning creates the carcinogens, and that happens in the flame no matter what you're smoking. Inhalation decides which organs actually absorb them. So although the "poison" may be the same, the delivery is radically different. But it's still all driven by what I call the Big Four:

• Frequency — how often you smoke.
• Intensity — how much you smoke.
• Duration — how long you keep it up, over months and years.
• Depth — how deeply you inhale.

The truth about cigarettes is that they max out every single one. Smoking a lot, deeply, for decades, and inhaling every single one — that's the recipe for disaster. A pipe or cigar held in the mouth, not inhaled, smoked once in a while, dials most of them back down.

What the Full Burden of Evidence Shows

A systematic review pooled twenty-two studies across sixteen long-term cohorts: cigar smoking is associated with higher mortality (essentially higher rates of death) and cancers of the mouth, throat, esophagus, larynx, lung, and pancreas, with strong dose trends by cigars per day and by inhalation.

A large head-to-head found exclusive cigarette smokers carried roughly double a non-smoker's all-cause death risk; exclusive cigar smokers, about twenty percent higher. These are still REAL dangers — but a totally different order of magnitude.

A 25-year study of about 17,000 men tied cigar smoking to cancers of the mouth and throat, lung cancer, COPD, and coronary heart disease — but found the disease concentrated in the heaviest smokers. Among the three-quarters smoking fewer than five cigars a day (and five a day is a serious amount for most men — we're well past the occasional weekend smoke here), most of the elevated risk didn't reach statistical significance; the one exception was heart disease.

A study of more than 130,000 men found pipe smokers' risks smaller than cigarettes and similar to cigars, tracking the number per day, the years, and the inhalation — with laryngeal cancer standing out sharply.

And the finding the enthusiasts cite, which is legitimate: the National Cancer Institute's landmark monograph (a comprehensive, government-published review of the research on a single topic) and a large national mortality survey both point to one to two cigars a day — or occasional use — showing no statistically significant increase in all-cause death. The National Academies' formal verdict on occasional, non-daily use was "insufficient evidence" to determine harm at all.

That's the real kernel in "it's not as bad as you've been told." For a man who never smoked cigarettes, doesn't inhale, and lights one occasionally, the whole-body mortality signal is hard to separate from a non-smoker's. But here's the honest catch, and it matters: even where the mortality signal stays low, the cancer risk doesn't necessarily follow it down. A low overall risk of death is not the same thing as a low risk of cancer.

This Is Not a Green Light, and the Research Is Clear

This does not mean you can put the pedal to the floor, scream "America," and smoke a fat cigar without consequence (although that would be awesome). We still have to be honest about the full body of research.

The contact cancers don't care whether you inhale — smoke sits in your mouth regardless, so your mouth, throat, and esophagus take a direct hit either way. Cigar and pipe smokers who reported no inhalation still showed sharply elevated risk there; one pipe analysis put laryngeal cancer risk roughly thirteenfold. Alcohol, which often comes with smoking of any kind, multiplies it all.

Your history rides along too. The lowest-risk group were "primary" smokers — men who never established a cigarette habit. Former cigarette smokers who switch to pipes or cigars inhale more and carry more risk.

Addiction is the piece we tend to breeze past, but it's just as relevant as the carcinogenic concerns above. Nicotine is a stimulant that occurs naturally in the tobacco leaf. It reaches your brain within seconds, nudges up dopamine in the reward system, and genuinely sharpens your attention and short-term memory — that's the "focus" I mentioned earlier, and it is highly effective. But that jolt to your reward system is exactly what makes nicotine one of the more addictive substances we know of. And it doesn't care how it gets in: a cigar's wrapper is tobacco, so it absorbs right through the lining of your mouth whether you inhale or not. The brain benefits are clear — but the real concern with nicotine comes down to its physiological effects elsewhere, especially on your cardiovascular system. It raises your heart rate, bumps your blood pressure, and tightens your blood vessels the whole time you're using it. None of that is cause to panic over an occasional cigar, but you should walk in knowing the molecule you're enjoying is truly habit-forming and truly active on your heart.

And one final thing men often don't think about: genetics. Two men can smoke identically for forty years and end up in completely different places, because your genes set how much damage a dose actually does — and you don't get to audit your own genome before you light up (because if I could, I'd absolutely be taller, more powerful, and making a living dunking on people's heads).

The Honest Appraisal of Each Modality

Here's what you should know about each of these delivery mechanisms. Short and sweet.

Cigarettes. There is absolutely no safe amount. Conversation over. Maybe your genetics keep you motoring for longer than most — and there's a real debate to be had that the appetite-suppressing effect of cigarettes spares some men a touch, since obesity drives so many of the modern issues men face. Nonetheless: real bad for you.

Cigars or pipes, daily and inhaled, several a day. This is real, and it's rising. Turn every one of the big four up and you've basically rebuilt a cigarette in a finer wrapper.

Cigars or pipes, occasionally, not inhaled, by a man who never smoked cigarettes. Genuinely low, and honestly hard to quantify. It's the closest thing to a pass the evidence offers — and even here, it can't promise zero.

So where does that leave a man who loves his pipe?

Most people will tell you, "everything in moderation," which was my position for a while — but that's not necessarily true. "All things in moderation" quietly assumes every risk curve bends the same way, that a little is always fine and only a lot bites. But the curves don't share a shape. A cigarette climbs from the very first one; the only moderate amount is none. A charred steak and the occasional cigar have a real, low, flat stretch where the dose genuinely is small.

Think about cookies for a second. A few cookies every so often? Nothing. A lot of cookies, regularly? That absolutely contributes to obesity, which is dangerous and drives a whole list of problems for men. That's a real curve — flat and harmless at the low end, genuinely costly at the high end. But a few cookies every so often and a few cigarettes every so often are not the same curve. One has a safe stretch to stand on; the other starts climbing from the very first one. Same word — "moderation" — completely different math.

Alcohol falls into a similar "it depends" bucket, but with one honest addition: we also know alcohol brings absolutely zero positive benefit to the body. It might be delicious poison, but it's still poison — something your liver has to detox because there's nothing useful to do with it. (I break that down at much greater length in the Alcohol section of The Heroic Man.)

So the real wisdom isn't "moderation." It's this: find the shape of the curve before you pick your dose. Moderation only works when the curve actually has a safe shelf to stand on. For the occasional, non-inhaled pipe or cigar, it does. That's not the lounge's wishful thinking — it's what the literature actually shows, with the asterisks kept firmly in place.

My Opinion

So should you light up a good pipe or a beautiful Churchill? That's up to you. I can't tell you whether you should or shouldn't do anything. If you're someone who struggles with addiction, nicotine is not a great option. If you have cardiovascular issues, or a family history of cardiovascular disease, probably not a great idea. If you're overweight, don't go adding more dangers to your life. But if you're a healthy guy — eating well, training, taking care of yourself — I'd be hard-pressed to tell you that the occasional cigar or a pipe now and then is going to be deleterious to your health.

But for me, this is where I land on it all. What I'm really after on that porch isn't the nicotine — I could get the molecule from a pouch with zero smoke. What I'm after is the slowing down, the book, the journal, the time in thought, the long talk, the brother in the other chair. None of that comes in a pouch. Most — if not all — of my best ideas and deepest thoughts have shown up with a cigar or a pipe in my hand. The book I wrote started with a Romeo y Julieta between my fingers. There is something almost transcendent that happens when you slow down and truly savor one. So I'm not weighing "a buzz" against cancer. I'm weighing a small, real risk — kept small on purpose, low and occasional and never inhaled — against goods that are genuinely worth something: contemplation, friendship, the kind of conversation that built half the faith and most of the books I love.

Do I "have" to smoke to slow down? Of course not. But the ritual of it has meaning — and that should never be downplayed.

So this is my approach. I know the risks. I set my dial low. I realize a cigar is not a vitamin. And then I make a choice like a grown man — without being ignorant.

I will continue to blame Tolkien and Lewis. Happily.

References

1. National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine. Premium Cigars: Patterns of Use, Marketing, and Health Effects. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press; 2022. — The FDA- and NIH-commissioned review of premium cigars; smoke chemistry, and the "insufficient evidence" verdict on occasional use.
2. National Cancer Institute. Cigars: Health Effects and Trends. Smoking and Tobacco Control Monograph No. 9. Bethesda, MD: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, NIH, National Cancer Institute; 1998. — The landmark government review; the one-to-two-cigars-a-day finding.
3. Chang CM, Corey CG, Rostron BL, Apelberg BJ. Systematic review of cigar smoking and all cause and smoking related mortality. BMC Public Health. 2015;15:390. — Pooled 22 studies across 16 cohorts; elevated oral, esophageal, and laryngeal risk even without inhalation; primary vs. secondary smokers.
4. Christensen CH, Rostron B, Cosgrove C, et al. Association of Cigarette, Cigar, and Pipe Use With Mortality Risk in the US Population. JAMA Internal Medicine. 2018;178(4):469–476. — National Longitudinal Mortality Study; all-cause mortality hazard ratios of 1.98 (cigarettes) vs. 1.20 (cigars).
5. Iribarren C, Tekawa IS, Sidney S, Friedman GD. Effect of Cigar Smoking on the Risk of Cardiovascular Disease, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, and Cancer in Men. New England Journal of Medicine. 1999;340(23):1773–1780. — 25-year Kaiser Permanente cohort of 17,774 men who never smoked cigarettes; risk concentrated in the heaviest smokers.
6. Henley SJ, Thun MJ, Chao A, Calle EE. Association Between Exclusive Pipe Smoking and Mortality From Cancer and Other Diseases. Journal of the National Cancer Institute. 2004;96(11):853–861. — Large American Cancer Society (CPS-II) cohort; laryngeal cancer relative risk of 13.1, and risks broadly similar to cigars.
7. Heishman SJ, Kleykamp BA, Singleton EG. Meta-analysis of the acute effects of nicotine and smoking on human performance. Psychopharmacology (Berl). 2010;210(4):453–469. — 41 double-blind, placebo-controlled trials; nicotine produces genuine gains in attention, motor ability, and memory in smokers and non-smokers alike.
8. U.S. Food and Drug Administration warning letter to Santa Fe Natural Tobacco Company (2015) and the subsequent 2017 agreement requiring removal of "additive-free" and "natural" from Natural American Spirit labeling; see also U.S. Federal Trade Commission, In the Matter of Santa Fe Natural Tobacco Company (Docket No. C-3952), which produced the mandated disclaimer, "No additives in our tobacco does NOT mean a safer cigarette." — Additive-free tobacco is not a safer product.
9. List of 599 cigarette additives disclosed by the five major U.S. tobacco companies to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 1994; approximately 7,000 chemical compounds identified in cigarette smoke per the U.S. Surgeon General's 2010 report, How Tobacco Smoke Causes Disease. — Cigarette ingredient and smoke-chemical counts.