Raglan Maddox, Patricia Nez Henderson, Lani Teddy, Sydney A. Martinez, Josephine T. Hinds, Michelle Kennedy, Mignonne C. Guy
As the tobacco and nicotine industry rapidly diversifies, it is critical for the Society for Research on Nicotine and Tobacco (SRNT) and others to clearly define what the term “commercial tobacco industry” encompasses and to recognize its inherent conflicts of interest with health.1 Existing definitions are often narrow, outdated, or limited to combustible products, and no longer reflect contemporary industry structures, product diversification including synthetic nicotine, or the broader ecosystem of influence spanning research, retail, and third-party actors. They also fail to distinguish sacred or ceremonial tobacco from commercial tobacco, a gap that carries racialized and colonial implications and contributes to the ongoing erasure of Indigenous sovereignty.1,2 A unified, contemporary, and historically informed definition is essential to strengthening public health policy, clarifying obligations under Article 5.3 of the World Health Organization’s Framework Convention on Tobacco Control (WHO FCTC), and exposing the mechanisms through which harm is sustained.3 This commentary makes 2 central contributions. First, it proposes an updated definition of the commercial tobacco and nicotine industry that reflects contemporary corporate organization, diversification, and innovation. Second, it establishes a clear and necessary distinction between commercial tobacco products and sacred, ceremonial, or traditional tobacco, grounded in Indigenous sovereignty rather than behavioral categorization. Together, these contributions aim to strengthen policy coherence, scientific integrity, and implementation of Article 5.3 of the WHO FCTC. The proposed definition is grounded in public health evidence and explicitly acknowledges the industry’s colonial and racist structures, including the ongoing distortion of science to sustain profit and power.1,4–7 The commercial tobacco industry operates through the commodification of a sacred Indigenous plant, the targeted exploitation of racialized communities, and the systematic exclusion of Indigenous peoples from decision-making, while privileging settler and corporate interests. Recognizing these practices as racism is not a moral aside but a definitional necessity for accurately characterizing contemporary industry behavior and advancing Indigenous sovereignty.1,4–8 Definitional clarity is not merely technical. Narrow or outdated definitions create regulatory vulnerabilities, enable industry actors to evade oversight, and permit infiltration of scientific and policy spaces. They also contribute directly to the ongoing erasure of Indigenous sovereignty by failing to distinguish commercial tobacco from sacred or ceremonial tobacco. Addressing these gaps is therefore essential for effective public health governance and for preventing the continued misappropriation of Indigenous knowledges. Recommended definition of the Commercial Tobacco Industry. The commercial tobacco industry includes any entities involved in commercial manufacturing, marketing, distribution, or sale of tobacco and/or nicotine products that are not sacred/ceremonial tobacco or regulated as an evidence-based pharmacotherapy. (ie, nicotine products other than medicines). This includes parent companies; subsidiaries; and industry-funded researchers or individuals; entities which are substantially controlled by or acting on behalf of, or collaborating with the commercial tobacco industry. Any individual or entity that receives financial, strategic, or material support(s) from the commercial tobacco industry as defined above are collaborators or affiliates of the commercial tobacco industry, reinforcing the industry’s vast and insidious influence. This definition does not apply to entities that receive funding from the commercial tobacco industry or its affiliates pursuant to a court order or statutory directive where the funding entity does not retain any control over the use of such funds. Sacred, ceremonial, or traditional tobacco is distinct from commercial tobacco. We recognize that some commercial tobacco products, such as commercially produced cigarettes, have been referred to as “traditional,” “traditionally made,” or “traditionally manufactured” cigarettes but such language is confusing and misleading. Commercially produced cigarettes are distinct from sacred, ceremonial, or traditional tobacco.4 Commercially produced tobacco products are fundamentally distinct from sacred, ceremonial, or traditional tobacco, due to patterns of use, but also because of the nature of the products themselves and the commercial systems through which they are produced, governed, and circulated.4 By contrast, sacred, ceremonial, or traditional tobacco refers to the sacred tobacco plant used within Indigenous cultural, spiritual, medicinal, or relational practices, governed by community-specific protocols, responsibilities, and knowledge systems.4 Such use is not oriented toward habitual consumption, addiction, or profit, and is not embedded within commercial supply chains. Sacred tobacco cannot be reduced to a behavioral category; it is situated within Indigenous governance, law, and sovereignty, and its meaning and regulation arise from these contexts rather than from market or regulatory frameworks.4 We acknowledge that some ontological frameworks distinguish between products and behaviors and recognize cultural variation in use. However, many such frameworks are grounded in Euro-Western epistemic traditions that abstract Indigenous practices from their political, cultural, and colonial contexts, treating them as variants of behavior rather than as sovereign systems of knowledge.4,9 Accordingly, this commentary does not rely on external ontological taxonomies as the primary basis for distinction; instead, it aligns with Indigenous-led scholarship emphasizing the inseparability of product, use, governance, and meaning, and recognizing misclassification of sacred tobacco as an ongoing colonial harm.4,9 International efforts to classify tobacco products have value for regulation, but they must not override Indigenous legal, cultural, and epistemic authority.4,9 Existing definitions of the tobacco industry, such as those advanced by the World Health Organization, Stopping Tobacco Organizations and Products (STOP), and professional societies, provide valuable foundations for policy and advocacy but are often too narrow in scope.1,4 They are typically framed around product manufacturing and marketing, without capturing the full extent of the industry’s operations and influence. For instance, many current definitions exclude industry-funded researchers, retailers, front groups, and growers/farming, despite their central role in sustaining industry power. Similarly, these definitions frequently fail to address the rapid expansion into synthetic nicotine and related analogues, which extend addiction markets while avoiding existing regulatory categories.1,4–6 A further limitation is the widespread failure to distinguish sacred or ceremonial tobacco from commercial tobacco.4–6 This omission is both a core definitional problem and a racialized one: conflation erodes Indigenous sovereignty, knowledges, and cultures, while enabling misappropriation and homogenizing policy treatment of “tobacco.” Definitional work can build on the foundations but should not proceed in ways that override or marginalize Indigenous ways of knowing, being and doing. Such definitional gaps are not merely technical, they have real implications for law, policy, and practice.1,4–6 Weak or incomplete definitions risk undermining Article 5.3 of the WHO FCTC by leaving loopholes that enable industry infiltration of research, policy, and regulation under the guise of legitimacy. They also perpetuate confusion in clinical and community settings, where commercial products are wrongly treated as equivalent to the sacred tobacco plant.1,4–7 In this context, a strengthened, evidence-based definition is essential. By explicitly recognizing the industry’s broader ecosystem, including scientific distortion, regulatory interference, and racialized/colonial structures, our proposed definition accounts for the evolving structure of the industry and provides greater clarity for public health practice, accountability, and Indigenous rights. Current definitions rarely account for the industry’s evolving strategies, including diversification (e-cigarettes, heated tobacco, nicotine pouches), synthetic nicotine and other analogues, and corporate (re)branding strategies such as Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG)-driven “transformation” claims. These developments are central to maintaining markets and legitimacy under increasing regulation. Without capturing them, definitions become outdated, create regulatory vulnerabilities, and weaken public health protections.1,2 In light of these dynamics, definitional work must also directly confront the racialized systems that shape contemporary industry operations.1,2 We use racism to describe how the commercial tobacco industry has historically and continues to embed racial oppression into its operations. This includes (1) the commodification of a sacred Indigenous plant for profit; (2) the deliberate targeting of racialized communities through marketing strategies such as menthol campaigns and cultural appropriation; and (3) the structural exclusion of Indigenous and racialized peoples from decision-making while privileging settler and corporate science.1,4–7 Together, these practices demonstrate that the industry’s harms are not only commercial or health-related, but are fundamentally racialized and central to its business model. While these practices are often described as “exploitative,” it is essential to recognize that exploitation is racialized.1,4–6 By commodifying Indigenous cultures, appropriating sacred knowledges, and targeting structurally marginalized communities, the industry (re)produces racial hierarchies and colonial power. Exploitation and racism are not separate dynamics; they are overlapping and mutually reinforcing mechanisms through which the industry sustains profit.1,2,4–6 Our definition therefore integrates exploitation as a racialized practice, ensuring that strategies targeting marginalized groups are recognized as racism rather than treated as secondary concerns.1,4–7 These dynamics are visible in practice, including the widespread targeting of Black communities with menthol cigarettes, the sponsorship of Indigenous organizations, and the appropriation of Indigenous imagery such as “Māori Mix” and “Chief of Vapes Red Indian.”1,4–6,10 Such examples illustrate how racism operates structurally across marketing, community engagement, and cultural exploitation. Racism also operates through the appropriation and undermining of Indigenous knowledges, the positioning of White and settler scientific paradigms as superior, and the development of research agendas that erase Indigenous worldviews while maximizing profit.4,9 For example, the industry has promoted racialized epidemiological framings that attribute disease to individual behavior rather than to structural determinants of harm, while funding research that excludes Indigenous voices and experiences.9 Professional societies, including SRNT,10 and others11–13 have increasingly recognized the role of institutional, commercial, and industry-driven racism in shaping tobacco-related research and evidence. This includes the industry’s well-documented interference in science through the recruitment of industry-aligned experts and the funding, publication, and dissemination of misleading research.1,4–6,10,14 Such practices continue to influence policy and practice, underscoring the importance of definitional clarity that explicitly accounts for racism as a structural feature of the industry. The ongoing legacy of the commercial tobacco industry demonstrates how racialized and colonial dynamics, entrenched through colonial expansion, slavery, and Indigenous dispossession, continue to shape industry operations today.1,4 Its scientific and commercial foundations were closely tied to the transatlantic slave trade and Indigenous land dispossession, producing systemic health inequities that remain central to the industry’s profit model.2,4,7 Low socio-economic status, under-resourced communities, and limited access to health services are not incidental, but conditions the industry actively exploits through targeted marketing in low-income neighborhoods, retail saturation in marginalized areas, and the promotion of menthol and vaping products to Black, Indigenous, and other racialized communities.1,4–7 The industry’s science distortion strategies are well documented and align with tactics used by other harmful industries, including fossil fuels, food and beverage, and pharmaceuticals.2,7,15 From its earliest forms, profiting directly from slavery, settler colonialism, and genocide, the industry helped lay the economic foundations of modern global capitalism.9,16 As Cedric Robinson observed, when “the development, organization, and expansion of capitalist society pursued essentially racial directions, so too did social ideology,”17 p2 a dynamic that remains evident in the tobacco and nicotine industry’s ongoing, intentional targeting of Indigenous, Black, and racialized communities.2,7,17 These historical foundations persist in contemporary practice. The industry’s racist legacy continues through racialized exploitation, scientific interference, policy infiltration, and deceptive “harm reduction” narratives, all of which sustain addiction, deepen inequities, and protect profit.2,4,15,18,–23 The industry profits from marginalized populations while denying them decision-making power, thereby reproducing the structural racism of slavery, colonialism, and Indigenous dispossession.4–7,24 There is therefore a clear and irreconcilable conflict of interest between public health and the commercial tobacco and nicotine industry. The industry’s overriding objective is maximizing shareholder profit, pursued directly and through affiliates and collaborators, a model that depends on sustaining addiction, health inequities, and the subversion of evidence-based policy.6,7,15 Given the irreversible historical harms and ongoing structural violence inflicted by the industry, the production, marketing, and sale of commercial tobacco have been recognized as fundamentally incompatible with the human right to health.2,25 The industry’s racialized targeting is particularly evident in the sustained marketing of menthol products to Black communities, reinforced through sponsorships, cultural co-option, and exploitation of under-resourced community organizations, Black-owned media, and retail promotions.19,26 Leveraging residential segregation and redlining, legacies of Jim Crow, menthol cigarettes remain heavily advertised, widely available, and lower-priced in Black communities, increasing appeal among price-sensitive youth and adults experiencing financial stress, alongside the expanding promotion of nicotine-delivering products.19,26 Manufacturers and distributors continue to deploy these predatory strategies across the industry and its affiliates.1,2,5–7,15,27 The commercial tobacco industry is also deeply embedded in the production and manipulation of science that serves its interests.1,2,5–7,15,18 It promotes compromised versions of “sound science” and “good epidemiology” to weaken consensus on tobacco harms, including exposure to second- and third-hand smoke.2,5–7,15,28 These practices include funding, publishing, and disseminating favorable research while suppressing, discrediting, or undermining independent evidence that threatens profitability.14,29–31 Resistance to industry interference is longstanding and ongoing. Academics, public health practitioners, and community advocates have challenged the manipulation of science and policy, a commitment reflected in WHO FCTC Article 5.3 and global initiatives such as World No Tobacco Day campaigns focused on protecting youth and children from industry interference.3,5,6,32,33 Beyond its impacts on health and equity, the commercial tobacco industry is also a major driver of environmental harm, contributing to soil depletion, deforestation, and biodiversity loss through pesticide use, including neonicotinoids linked to declining pollinator populations.34,35 These ecological harms further underscore the industry’s incompatibility with public health, environmental sustainability, and Indigenous stewardship of land. There is a clear and fundamental distinction between sacred and commercial tobacco. Tobacco is a sacred medicinal plant integral to many Indigenous peoples’ cultural, ceremonial, and relational practices.4 Through the Triangular Trade and colonial expansion, this plant was appropriated and commercialized into nicotine-delivery products for recreational consumption, producing substantial harm, particularly among communities that are minoritized, marginalized, and disenfranchised.4 The commercial tobacco industry has commodified and distorted this sacred plant, while appropriating Indigenous imagery and knowledges for profit.4 This distinction has direct implications for professional and academic societies, including SRNT. The proposed definition provides a clear, operational framework to guide organizational policies on industry engagement, research funding, conference participation, and governance. Clarifying that sacred tobacco must never be conflated with commercial tobacco is both a matter of definitional precision and an explicit recognition that erasing Indigenous sovereignty and knowledges constitutes a racist practice.4–7 By foregrounding structural and commercial power, the definition aligns with SRNT’s commitments to racial equity and scientific independence.11 We recommend that SRNT and other professional bodies adopt this definition to strengthen transparency, integrity, and accountability, consistent with Article 5.3 of the WHO FCTC and broader global public health norms.3,10,13 Entities that manufacture nicotine-delivery products solely for evidence-based therapeutic purposes, in compliance with WHO Guidelines, Norms, and Standards for Pharmaceuticals, and with no direct or indirect relationships with the commercial tobacco industry, are classified as part of the pharmaceutical sector, not the commercial tobacco industry.36 Existing definitions of the tobacco industry, including those developed by STOP and others, have typically focused on corporate entities involved in product production and marketing.37,38 While foundational, these definitions rarely address the industry’s manipulation of science, selective publication, co-option of Indigenous imagery, or the racialized structures through which harms are mass-produced and maintained. Nor do they adequately distinguish commercial tobacco from sacred tobacco.37,38 Our definition builds on these foundations while explicitly expanding scope to include the industry’s broader ecosystem, scientific distortion, regulatory interference, and structural racism. In developing this definition, we considered existing international frameworks, including the WHO FCTC (notably Article 17 on alternative livelihoods for growers),3 as well as prior definitional work distinguishing “tobacco” and “e-cigarette” industries.37,38 However, these approaches do not capture the increasingly convergent “commercial tobacco and nicotine industry.” Our use of this term is deliberate, reflecting overlapping corporate ownership, supply chains, and profit strategies across combustible tobacco, e-cigarettes, and other non-therapeutic nicotine products. This unified framing supports stronger regulatory accountability, recognizes overlapping harms and affirms the human right to health while acknowledging definitional complexity. Recognizing growers as part of the commercial industry aligns with this structural framing while supporting equitable transition pathways. This approach centers human rights, social justice, and Indigenous relational ethics, holding powerful corporate actors accountable while avoiding punitive consequences for those coerced into extractive systems, such as contract or smallholder growers. Explicitly including growers is necessary because they are integral to the industry’s upstream profit chain and because colonial and extractive production models frequently exploit Indigenous and racialized labor and land.4,37 This inclusion reinforces the understanding of the industry as a structurally harmful system rather than a narrow set of corporate entities, with implications for Article 5.3 and other regulatory settings, particularly under vertically integrated or contract farming arrangements.3,37 We acknowledge that defining the commercial tobacco and nicotine industry is an ontological undertaking.38 The decision to group tobacco and nicotine reflects both definitional debate and practical necessity, given the industry’s deliberate convergence of products, markets, and narratives under the guise of “harm reduction.” This framing ensures clarity, accountability, and resistance to ongoing colonial and commercial harm. In revisiting the definition of the commercial tobacco industry, including understanding and recognizing the commercial tobacco industry’s rapid evolution in response to regulatory pressures and inherent conflicts of interest, we recommend using the term “Commercial Tobacco and Nicotine Industry.” This reflects the commercial tobacco industry more accurately and consistently. This terminology aligns with the decision of the Sixth Conference of the to the WHO to evidence-based of corporate influence and industry interference, reinforcing the for clear between nicotine and therapeutic The industry’s deceptive narratives on “harm reduction” must be with ensuring that corporate science is not as to evidence-based tobacco control and resistance This to protect from all commercial and other related to (ie, or nicotine and other products by ensuring that only therapeutic are recognized and that the of the tobacco industry are By recognizing exploitation as our definition ensures that strategies targeting marginalized groups are as not secondary Weak definitions weaken law, policy, and definitions an industry on racism and colonial harm and create the conditions for for the addiction, and that the industry continues to