Price per pack of cigarettes: tax, margin and increase

In France, tobacco has turned into a daily referendum on who deserves to pay, to breathe, to choose. With three-quarters of every pack swallowed by taxes, a cigarette is no longer a habit but a financial confession. For a cleaner earning the minimum wage, a pack at €13 is not a vice; it is a line in the household budget, bargained against food, fuel, or children’s shoes. Shame creeps in at the supermarket till, while others light up outside in stubborn, exhausted defiance.

Yet the government doubles down, tying prices to inflation, pushing smoking out of bars, offices, beaches, playgrounds, out of sight. Cross-border runs to Spain, Luxembourg, or Italy become quiet acts of resistance, or survival. The policy works on paper: fewer smokers, fewer deaths. But beneath the statistics, France is learning that saving lives with fiscal pressure also means wounding pride, deepening inequality, and turning every glowing tip into a tiny, burning referendum on what a life—and a choice—is worth.