THERE is a certain ritual performed every two years at the WHO Conference of the Parties (COP)—a choreography of pronouncements, applause lines, and orchestrated indignation that often pretends to be more consequential than it is.
The “Dirty Ashtray Award,” handed to the Philippines five times by the Global Alliance for Tobacco Control (GATC), is now part of this performance.
Designed to shame, it aims to pressure nations that defend tobacco harm reduction (THR) and their citizens’ right to safer alternatives.
Like all performances, it says more about its creators than its target.
GATC is neither a party to the treaty nor an institution accountable to any electorate.
It has no charter, no mandate, and certainly no moral standing to pass judgment on sovereign states. Yet its labels are treated as though they carry the weight of international legitimacy.
The Philippine delegation to COP10—led by the late Senior Deputy Executive Secretary Hubert Dominic Guevarra—did not embody obstruction or industry capture, but responsible and balanced statecraft.
As Guevarra put it: “If by protecting our state policy, the 20,000 or more families dependent on tobacco farming, and the rest of our countrymen who benefit from the health care system funded by tobacco excise taxes, we are given the Dirty Ashtray Award, then I am willing to own it up as head of the delegation.”
What some activists frame as derailment was in fact a government asking for clarity before supporting proposals that would ban tobacco sales, dismantle farmer support systems, and end livelihoods that have existed for generations.
The idea that such questions are unacceptable reflects the tenor of the debate—not the actions of the Philippines.
At the Harm Reduction Summit in October, advocates for farmers and consumer groups stressed that tobacco control must be grounded in science rather than fear.
They warned that demonizing safer alternatives could push millions back to smoking or into illicit markets.
This marginalization of harm reduction voices is nothing new.
Just last month, the Coalition of Asia Pacific Tobacco Harm Reduction Advocates (CAPHRA) criticized the FCTC secretariat for sidelining harm reduction—despite its inclusion in Article 1 of the treaty’s own definition.
Which brings us back to the Ashtray.
The irony is that the award is aimed at delegations that defend access to safer technologies.
It is the opposite of what the ashtray symbolizes: a relic of smoke, ash, and outdated thinking. The ones clinging to ideology and rigid prohibition—not governments safeguarding consumer choice—are the true keepers of that relic.
The award has become a marker of ideological rigidity rather than progress.
In this light, the possibility that the Philippines may once again receive the Ashtray at COP11 is neither surprising nor meaningful.
The deeper question is whether we will let these theatrics dictate our public health narrative.
Condemnation is always easier than engagement.
It is easier to threaten censure than to confront the reality that a smoke-free future will be shaped not only by bans but also by transitions led by consumers and supported by evidence.
Meanwhile, real work continues: regulating, consulting, debating, and revising—tasks that rarely earn applause and never earn awards.
This work recognizes the people behind the numbers: farmers whose livelihoods cannot be erased by decree; smokers who have tried and failed to quit; families whose health care depends on excise revenues.
If the Philippines is to be shamed for upholding RA 11900—the Vape Law—protecting adult smokers, and safeguarding the livelihoods of tens of thousands of farmers, then we should not bow our heads.
We should raise the Ashtray like a trophy.
Because this fight is about progress: acknowledging that smoke, not nicotine, kills; and insisting that public policy be driven by evidence rather than stigma.
Consumer groups have long argued that banning or vilifying safer alternatives is both a scientific and moral failure.
The GATC may believe it already knows who deserves its trophy.
But the Philippines can continue doing what it has always done: show up, negotiate, explain, and defend—acting within its rights, its laws, and its realities.
If the Ashtray awaits us at COP11, then so be it. The shame does not belong here. (Email: ernhil@yahoo.com)
