Debate over flavored, colorful vapes heats up in Spain

Strawberry-scented vapes spark a war over consumption

There's a photo that has set off sparks: a shelf of vaping devices with names like STRAWBERRY AND LOVE, TROPICAL FRESH, GUMMY BEARS, CHOCOFRUIT, KIWI+BANANA, COCO MALIBU and PIÑA COLADA, decorated with explosive AI-generated artwork. One user lays down a blunt thesis: if there's no nerve to ban crappy smokes, at least ban those colorful, perfumed things. Anyone who wants to swallow smoke should swallow it with the taste, tonalidad and smell of smoke. Not with a forest-fruits aroma worthy of Toni Jilfinguer.

The anger isn't just aesthetic. Behind it lies a technical question many people ask: how does a vape actually work? The answer that wins out in the conversation is that there's no combustion, but rather a coil that heats a mixture until it vaporizes when you take a drag. It's pure Joule effect: a wire that heats up as current passes through it. Vaporizing isn't boiling, and that's the key.

What temperature does vape liquid reach?

The doubt about 100 degrees is quickly resolved: no, there's no need to reach boiling point. The liquid being vaporized isn't water, it's a kind of glycerin, and it can exceed 200 °C. The distinction being stressed matters: don't confuse heat (amount of energy) with temperature (energy level). The example given is the incandescent bulbs of old flashlights, powered by a simple battery.

The liquid's composition is also broken down: water, glycerin, propylene glycol, flavorings and nicotine if it contains any. That mixture is what produces the vapor when heated in the coil, which it reaches through a soaked wick. Glycerin, some admit, comes up everywhere and not everyone is clear on what it is. Something like argan oil? Not exactly, but the comparison helps to understand it isn't water.

Nicotine-free lollipop vaping: the trend displacing tobacco

The phenomenon goes beyond flavor. One participant points out that vaping zero-nicotine lollipops is all the rage among young people and that hardly any of them smoke tobacco anymore. The trend, they say, is here to stay. In response, the indignant reply comes fast: maybe among the trash in your neighborhood, because none of the ones I know do that disgusting stuff, they're all at the gym. The polarization is total.

The irony shows up too: maybe they have one for you, with brown smoke smelling like some dude's fart. The tone rises, but the heart of the matter is the same: is this responsible consumption or a gateway to something worse? The discussion over whether cigars are the only true "cigars" and everything else is something different adds a layer of terminological confusion that doesn't help.

What are e-cigarettes and why are they confused with cigars?

The clarification is simple: cigars are cigars; what's being discussed here are vapes or e-cigarettes. The confusion is no small thing, because the regulatory and health framework is completely different. While traditional tobacco faces tightly controlled taxes and advertising rules, flavored vaping operates in a limbo that some consider intolerable.

The underlying argument is that if the smokes can't be banned, at least ban the colorful stuff and the perfumes. The infantilizing aesthetic —cartoon drawings, candy names, bright colors— is what irritates most. It's not just a matter of taste: it's a matter of who that marketing is aimed at. And there, the industry's answer is always the same: these are products for adults who want to quit smoking.

The close: a prediction with reservations

With this level of anger and a trend that keeps growing, regulatory pressure will most likely increase. But predicting a total ban is risky: the vaping lobby has health and economic arguments, and governments have already shown they prefer to regulate rather than prohibit. What does seem clear is that the debate over the colorful packaging won't go away. The question is whether anyone will dare to rein it in, or whether we'll keep seeing shelves full of gummy bears with nicotine.