In early October, shortly before Flynn introduced his amendment, Webb wrote an op-ed for the local newspaper, Denver Post. He mentioned Eric Garner, the black man choked to death by New York City police officers in 2014 after being charged with illegally selling cigarettes.

“Law enforcement doesn’t need much more reason to stop us living our lives. But that’s what a menthol ban could do,” Webb wrote. (Asked about the menthol ban menthol, Edwards said, “I’m on Mayor Webb’s side.”)

But a few weeks later, Webb’s opinion piece was removed from the newspaper’s website. A correction in the press noted that he had not told editors that he worked as a consultant for Reynolds American, a fact discovered by one of the newspaper’s reporters. It’s another example of how the company has managed to exert influence, often undetected.

Calling on communities

Denver isn’t the only US city to consider banning the sale of menthol cigarettes. To date, around 150 localities across the country have imposed some sort of restriction on their sale, with most issuing an outright ban.

Reynolds American appealed to local and national politicians, such as Webb and former U.S. Senator Meek. But she didn’t just focus on the corridors of power. Through pastors such as Sharpton and Tulloss, the company has sought to tap into a long history that has placed the church at the center of many black communities.

“Even going back to the period of slavery, often [Black] preachers were seen as the spokespersons” for the black community, said Obery Hendricks, a Columbia University scholar who has studied the intersection of religion and political economy. “Pastors play a major role in representing the interests of black churches and they play a major role in building educational institutions and supporting protest.”

“The tobacco industry knows the grip of black pastors on black churches,” he adds. “It’s a sad comment because the tobacco industry wouldn’t think it strategically worth approaching the black church if they didn’t know that black pastors would be willing to work with them.”

The tobacco industry has long appealed for support from black individuals and organizations. As it built its marks in these communities during the second half of the 20th century, it also built a network of allies, ranging from prominent civil rights groups and politicians to musicians and artists. It’s just a way for them to “support their position within the black community,” Hendricks said.

Although the industry has cultivated these relationships for many decades, there is still a desperate lack of black representation in leadership and board positions at all major tobacco companies. In fact, compared to those who lobbied for Reynolds American against banning menthol cigarettes, nearly the entire management team at the company is white.

“The web that keeps menthol present in cities is no accident. It’s not driven by some sort of innate black taste for menthol,” Wailoo said. “It’s a byproduct of a complex and relentless story of how markets have been built and sustained.”

These markets do not only attract black adults. More than half of young people aged 12 to 17 who smoke use menthol cigarettes. Almost all African Americans who smoke started with menthols.