Is the sense of brotherhood (never mind the reality of brotherhood) any greater among pipe smokers than, say, chat room habitues, model railroaders, science-fiction devotees, or Magic Card collectors? We doubt it. Mythology to the contrary, it is probably less so; after all, pipe smokers are really united only by a single element--they all smoke pipes. Even this “fact,” is not factual, for there are those who claim membership in “The Brotherhood” who do not smoke pipes, but just collect them (why anyone would want to collect these expensive little hunks of wood, is beyond us, of course). There is a minor kinship, no doubt: whenever two people have even one thing in common, that may give rise to pleasant conversation, revealing other things in common which may, in turn, lead to lasting friendships. It is these “other things,” however, upon which that friendship will be built, not the coincidental factor that these individuals, from time to time, for periods long or short, sit down, put tobacco in a pipe, light it, and proceed to puff away pleasurably in an atmosphere of relaxation and contentment. A lazy person’s hobby, to be sure. By contrast, it takes genuine stamina, a superior intelligence, and a desire for real adventure to comb through the treasures of antique shops, hoping to find the perfect Victorian thimble.

Related to this brotherhood mythos is the far more dangerous concept that pipe smokers are better than other people. (Pipe smokers consider themselves superior to cigarette smokers and, in this contention, they may be correct, though we cannot assert this unequivocally.) Truth to tell, every group (except thimble collectors) has its saints and sinners, and pipe smokers are no different. In fact, there are those who say that pipe smokers are a bit less tidy, clean, industrious, affable, or civil, and rather more disorganized, unkempt, lazy, rude, and ill-tempered than those involved in other hobbies, though this may be a cruel calumny fostered by stamp collectors and chess players. But it would be disingenuous not to observe that one seems to find some truly odd ducks among pipe smokers. As with any hobby, there are always those who love their hobby more than people, more even than family, but there seem to be an inordinate number of pipe smokers who regard their pipes as family. The high per percentage of bachelors, semi-hermits, and unemployed would seem to attest to that, though, once again, we cannot judge the veracity of such claims. Most thimble collectors, while spending six or seven hours searching for an illusive Louis XIII corset-mending thimble, have had the experience of observing one of these strange fellows endlessly rummaging through an antique store or the tables at a yard sale, hoping to find a rare pipe.

This sometimes strongly felt idea of a brotherhood, probably has its roots in the pipe club, an odd invention, where men (mostly men, anyway) gather to chat, smoke, educate themselves about their hobby, and generally stink-up the place in which they’re meeting. These little groups work well, so long as the subject matter is limited. But experience shows that, if one lets in politics, religion, women, or any of a number of personal biases, the club is soon destroyed. It must be remembered that only a tiny number of pipe smokers belong to clubs, perhaps as few as two thousand out of one to four million full-time and occasional smokers. Of all hobbies, pipe smokers are the least likely to join in any kind of social intercourse, be it club membership, web-chatting, pipe show attendance, or even a lingering visit to the local tobacconist. A brotherhood to which so few “brothers” belong is not a brotherhood; it is barely a neighborhood. This is a phenomenon frequently remarked upon at our Thimble Club meetings, and at our weekly discussion group get-togethers and dinners. We hear them speak of a brotherhood of pipe smokers the way one speaks of cures at Lourdes: all the “evidence” is anecdotal and personal. One of them meets a nice fellow at a pipe show and has a fine conversation; one buys a pipe in a shop and is treated with great courtesy; one has a flat tire while leaving a club meeting and a fellow member stops and helps. All nice examples, but hardly out of the ordinary, and perhaps not even typical. Most of us thimble collectors, if we care to be totally honest about it, can recall decidedly unpleasant encounters with pipe smokers. The most one can say is, “I’ve occasionally met a decent chap who happened to be a pipe smoker,” and that’s about it. Yes, the idea of a Brotherhood of Pipe Smokers is a pleasant fiction, a myth that probably does no harm. And, in the spirit of true comradeship, we invite them to join us in a brotherhood of real substance, that of The Fraternity of Thimble Collectors. (Inauguration speech, 30th Grand Poobah of the FTC, Chauncy Witherspoon, March, 1963.)

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