What’s That in Your Mouth, Bro?

Zyn nicotine pouches have become a new symbol of American masculinity — and a surprising political lightning rod.

It was a Friday night in Lower Manhattan, and young crowds gathered around bistro tables and spilling onto sidewalks were partaking in an array of substances.

They tossed back Negronis, stepped out for cigarettes, pulled on vapes and furtively removed small hockey-puck-shaped tins from their pockets. Some were hidden under phones, while others were planted between cocktails and beers — an implicit invitation to help yourself.

A patron who gave his name only as Alex was a bit sheepish about the tin at his table outside Forgtmenot, a bar on Division Street where he was hanging out with a few friends. It was a green and white container of spearmint Zyn, the nicotine product he said he had been using for a couple of years after trying to kick a vaping habit.

He packed one of the pillow-shaped sachets under his bottom lip and continued chatting as another round of drinks arrived.

As some stimulant seekers have flitted from cigarettes to the candy-colored menagerie of vapes (and back to cigarettes again), they have picked up Zyn, a brand of nicotine pouches produced by Swedish Match, a subsidiary of Philip Morris International that last year sold Americans about 350 million cans of the product.

The packets, which do not contain tobacco, are frequently discussed as a potential smoking-cessation tool, though some Zyn users were never regular cigarette smokers or vape users to begin with. Some say they have gotten hooked on the nicotine buzz delivered by Zyn, which comes in flavors that read like conference room tea offerings: wintergreen, cinnamon, chill. A single pouch is intended to last around 30 minutes.