When New Zealand announced in 2010 that the country would be smokefree by 2025, it felt bold and hopeful. Many said the target would push us toward a fairer, healthier future. Yet here we are, with just 31 days left in 2025, and Wellington — like the rest of the country — has not crossed the line. Daily smoking has dropped sharply over the years, but it has not fallen below the five-percent mark that defined success.

As I spoke with health workers, business owners and long-time advocates across the capital, a clear picture formed. The plan did not fail because people lacked effort. It failed because the system shifted, stalled and sometimes even stepped backwards.

The biggest blow came when the strongest measures were removed. The country had planned to cut nicotine levels in cigarettes and prevent tobacco sales to anyone born after 2009. These steps were not small tweaks — they were the backbone of the endgame. Without them, the engine that drove the Smokefree 2025 vision began to sputter. Quit rates slowed. Communities that needed firm support lost their momentum. And Wellington, once seen as a leader in health policy, felt the impact almost immediately.

At the same time, responsibility was pushed back onto individuals. The national strategy leaned heavily on people choosing to quit, local health teams providing ongoing support, and communities running their own programmes. That sounds empowering, but it ignored the reality that many smokers in Wellington face tough barriers. Rising living costs, unstable work hours, and limited access to specialist support made quitting harder. The heaviest smoking harm still sat with Māori and Pacific families. These gaps never closed fast enough.

Walking through the city, the slow change becomes clear. You see fewer smokers around Lambton Quay, Cuba Street and the waterfront, yet the last few percent proved stubborn. Some told me black-market tobacco made cigarettes cheaper and easier to find. Others said they tried quitting many times but slipped back because stress never eased. These human stories explain more than any official report ever will.

Wellington’s hospitality scene also carried part of the load. The capital has around 500 cafés, bars and restaurants, and many of them had to change how they operated when outdoor dining on council land became smokefree. Owners removed ashtrays, trained staff and reworked their layouts. Some said customer complaints rose for a while. Others said the rules helped create cleaner, calmer spaces. Still, these efforts alone could not deliver the big national drop the target needed.

Looking back, several things could have been done differently. Strong laws could have stayed in place, even when politics changed. Retail outlets selling tobacco could have been reduced earlier. More targeted support for Māori and Pacific communities could have been funded properly, not patched together. Wellington could also have built a bigger, citywide partnership between health groups, iwi, youth workers and hospitality leaders. And the country could have been more honest about the pace of progress.

The truth is simple. The Smokefree 2025 dream did not fail because the goal was unrealistic. It failed because commitment wavered when it mattered most.

Still, Wellington has a chance to lead the next chapter. The city can tighten rules on supply, back strong community action and support the people and businesses already doing the hard work. The finish line may have moved, but it has not vanished. If we choose courage over delay, the capital can still take the country closer to the future it once promised — a future free from the harm of tobacco.