Written about Great Britain and Ireland, but could apply to the US as well
Do we go on pretending, like every deluded boozer, that alcohol is a habit we’ll kick someday soon? Or do we accept that it’s as much a part of our culture as wearing clothes or driving cars? If we do decide that we have to live with alcohol, then we need to figure out how, collectively, we can best handle it. Before we start teaching our kids how drink can be accompanied with most pleasure and least damage, we need to know those things ourselves.
Real discussion about alcohol tends to get lost between two competing – and equally unrealistic – kinds of discourse, one utopian, the other dystopian. The first is medical. Doctors believe that alcohol is a public health problem, equivalent to a disease, and they are trained to believe that all diseases are, in principle, eradicable. They tend to see drink as a social illness that will one day be cured. Even when they’re saying sensible things, this attitude makes it hard for them to connect with the majority of people for whom a few pints or a bottle of wine represent, not an illness, but a temporary relief from the symptoms of modern life.
The other discourse is legal. Governments don’t want to hear what public health officials have to say. Alcohol consumption can be reduced by raising the price and banning advertising. Since one upsets voters and the other annoys powerful industries, governments prefer to talk about the law – better regulation, punishment for drink-fuelled rowdyism, the enforcement of the rules aimed at stopping young people doing what young people have always done. While the doctors dream of a perfect future, the politicians see themselves as soldiers in a low-level but eternal war.
But what if drinking is neither primarily a medical nor a legal issue? What if it’s actually, at heart, a cultural question? In a striking piece in the current issue of the New Yorker, Malcolm Gladwell suggests that the evidence from anthropology, sociology and psychology is that what matters most is not how much people drink but how they drink it. The social context – the rules a particular culture imposes and the rituals through which it reinforces them – determines the way we behave as drinkers.
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People in different cultures behave very differently when they’re drunk and the same drunks behave in different ways on various occasions. As one writer has snappily summarised the findings of Drunken Comportment: “A single species (Homo sapiens), a single drug substance (ethanol) and a great diversity of behavioural outcomes.” Depending on the context, boozers can feel elated or depressed, slobberingly sentimental or savagely violent. It is not, after all, the drink that does it. What matters is the culture around drinking. McAndrew and Edgerton concluded: “Since societies, like individuals, get the sorts of drunken comportment that they allow, they deserve what they get.”
Gladwell suggests that “culture is a more powerful tool in dealing with drinking than medicine, economics or the law” and that what young people need is not more admonition but “a positive and constructive example of how to drink
[Click to continue reading Don’t heed the prohibitionists – we should teach our children to drink | Fintan O’Toole | Comment is free | The Observer ]
The US has a third kind of discourse, the Christian Taliban, but we should ignore them whenever possible. They really aren’t interested in being part of our society anyway, just at imposing a kind of theocracy on the rest of us.
If alcohol was just a simple part of meals, enjoyed in moderation, I bet there would be a lot less binge drinking among teenagers.