Let’s focus on the 99% who follow the rules – it’s time to open pubs

ON March 15, the then government asked all pubs to voluntarily close to help halt the spread of coronavirus, a response to scenes of crowds in Temple Bar and in other cities and towns getting a head-start on the St Patrick’s Day celebrations.

Within 12 days, national lockdown was imposed, and while that was initially for a two-week period, most of us felt pretty sure it would last a lot longer.

So it proved. What we never contemplated was that, almost six months later, half the country’s pubs and bars would remain shuttered. What we never considered was that this social outlet, part of the very fabric of Irishness, would simply disappear in so many communities, leaving thousands, especially the elderly, alone and isolated.

Those pubs that did reopen in July were allowed do so only if they could serve a substantial meal costing more than €9, and you have to be in and out of the premises in 105 minutes, which is not conducive to a relaxing night out. I’ve done it only twice, because I spent much of the available time looking at my watch, and there’s not a lot of fun in that.

And, in truth, it doesn’t really bother me personally, because if I was in the pub even 12 times in an average year, I would be surprised. The nearest to me is three kilometres away and, for much of that distance, there is no footpath, so I certainly wouldn’t risk walking home in the dark given the driving habits of some of the boy racers around here.

I meet one friend who lives close by for a few pints every month or so, but he and his wife have children living in Australia and Singapore, and they escape the Irish winter for few months every year, so from November to March I don’t really bother at all. I’m just as happy to stay home with a bottle of wine.

Annoyance

That, though, is far from true for everyone. I’m fully up to speed on technology, and have any number of ways of communicating with family and friends, whether on social media or video calls. Indeed, during lockdown, I probably saw more of them than I would have done in a normal year, simply because everyone made great efforts to stay in touch. I’m lucky that even though I live in a semi-rural community, in the very last estate before the land gives way to farming, I have highspeed broadband.

Vast swathes of rural Ireland barely have broadband at all, and the speeds are so poor, it would be impossible to log on to Zoom or Houseparty. For people in that position, the pub is the social outlet they need. I have older friends and they love those two pints in the afternoon before dinner. No arrangements need be made – they already know their friends will be there, and if one fails to show up, someone will check in on him to make sure he’s OK. The pub is the focal point of a network of care. Meanwhile, the pubs that actually are open are working the regulations well. I ate in one in Co. Clare last month, and while I was maybe a little closer to the woman behind me than I would have liked, we at least were back to back – and, in a welcome change from the norm, parents were supervising their children and not letting them run riot to the annoyance of others.

To the best of my knowledge, there have been no reports of clusters originating in any of the pubs that have been serving food and drink for two months now. Nor have pubs, bars and cafés appeared to be a significant factor in the second wave of infection hitting the likes of Spain, Belgium, the UK and France.

Famously, Sweden never closed bars at all, and while its death rate is higher than in its Nordic neighbours, largely due to the virus getting into care homes, there is no evidence that wellrun cafés or pubs were a source of widespread community transmission.

As things stand, Ireland is the only country in Europe that still has not allowed so-called wet bars to open. There are restrictions in Romania, but any pub there with an outdoor terrace can serve alcohol. Many here could do that too, though admittedly the argument against that is the awful weather we had this summer.

The root of the issue, though, really is the inconsistency at the heart of our policy. The virus doesn’t know you’ve had a €9 meal, and a lukewarm pizza is no deterrent should it choose to strike. The fact that it hasn’t spread since food pubs reopened is testimony to the fact that staff and customers are mostly playing by the rules. Instead of holding this up as an example of how best practice actually can work, health chiefs appear to be concentrating on the exceptions, the Dublin bar where a man was filmed pouring shots from a bottle straight into customers’ open mouths, the Killarney street filled with revellers just last weekend.

We know there will always be idiots who flout the rules, but is keeping 99% of us out of the pubs really fair when only 1% are irresponsible?

Already this week, we have seen cases of the virus in schools, just days after they reopened. Sensibly, isolation is being applied at the individual class level rather than shutting down the entire school. If we had adequate testing and contacttracing, there is no reason why pubs could not reopen, but while testing has improved and the results are delivered relatively quickly, we are still not where we need to be. That must change soon, because we are going to have to find a way to live relatively normal lives alongside this virus until a vaccine is available.

There is, however, no vaccine against isolation and loneliness, and there never will be.

There is no quick cure for deteriorating mental health brought on by endless anxiety when the only voice you hear is the one in your own head.

Patrician

It is sometimes hard not to suspect our health chiefs are being overly patrician on this subject, because we all know alcohol abuse is a big problem in Ireland, and maybe they think the strategy is good for that reason also. However, instead of going to pubs, people are drinking more at home than ever before, and many of all ages are having parties where there is none of the supervision, or requests for compliance with social distancing, that you would get in the pub.

That’s why publicans must be allowed to open sooner than later. For many, even that will actually be too late, and they never will throw open the doors again. That’s why we must act – an entire business sector is on its knees and needs help, just as the older man who likes his pint and his chat, or the woman who just wants a glass of wine with her friends away from the children, or the young frontline worker who also deserves a bit of fun, need it too.