British drinkers have no need to feel guilty

Spare me the hectoring of the public health nannies, when the evidence shows we’re adult about alcohol

If we gleaned all we knew about the nation’s drinking habits from the images we see taken on the day of the Grand National, or New Year’s Eve or a hot bank holiday weekend, we might be forgiven for thinking that the country is awash with booze, swimming in it, sloppy with it. Excuse us while we nod off on this park bench or throw up in that bin... and whatever happened to our shoes?

Take a sober look at the figures, though, and nothing could be further from the truth. The old lament that France and Italy enjoy a mature, sophisticated and moderate drinking culture while we specialise only in lager-fuelled loutishness is now out of date. When it comes to drinking, the

statistics show, Britain has grown up.

A new study published in The Lancet, covering three decades and 189 countries, has revealed that while alcohol intake across the world is rising, in the UK our consumption has actually dropped by nearly 10 per cent per person over the past 30 years. Despite the fact that a greater proportion of us Brits are drinking – in part explained by the rise in the number of women who drink – only one in seven women and one in four men drink more than the 14 units a week recommended by the NHS.

In short, it seems more of us are drinking but we’re doing so more moderately.

There are troubling elements in the report, not least the fact that the number of “problem” drinkers has remained broadly steady and the spectre of alcohol abuse is not being banished in the way we might have hoped. However, the numbers show the majority of us can raise a glass to our efforts to drink more responsibly.

That includes the younger generation. Millennials, those born from the 1980s onwards, have become caricatured as uptight puritans who barely touch alcohol. The figures at least bear out the assumption that they are drinking less than their elders, possibly a legacy of growing up with Baby Boomer and Generation Xer parents who entered adulthood before the thrilling possibility of all-day drinking in every bar (we went a bit giddy for a while but it seems we’ve settled down now).

We also have millennials, at least partly, to thank for the explosion in the availability of really good premium spirits and beers. We may be drinking less, but in lots of cases what we are drinking is better quality. Where I live, in only-very-recently-fashionable east London, you can barely move for new distilleries and microbreweries set up by shiny-faced and optimistic twentyand thirtysomethings. It’s easier to buy gin than a reel of thread, a craft ale than a light bulb.

It’s all indicative of a culture, surely a good thing, in which we are choosing to savour and appreciate one or two glasses of something really nice of an evening in place of a binge. That’s certainly what I prefer. A beautiful white in a glass slightly condensing from the chill, or a warming, rich red, are two of the great pleasures of adulthood, along with choosing your own bedtime and not eating your crusts if you don’t want to. What could possibly be wrong with that?

So, forgive me if I eschew being hectored by public health campaigns that focus on my very ordinary (probably, usually, mostly) under-14units-a-week consumption. Like the rest of the population, I certainly drink less than I used to and I don’t appreciate the attempts of puritanical nannies to make me feel bad about it when I do have a tipple.

Surely it would be a better use of public money to concentrate on those who really need help and support with giving up drink?

A blanket approach which makes us all feel guilty for a glass of wine before dinner or a couple of beers on a hot day is the worst kind of busy work. It is an easy win in the name of looking like you are doing something, while barely touching the sides of the real problem.

Seriously tackling addiction and its causes requires a focus on all manner of societal, social and emotional issues – from housing and employment to mental health – which are far harder and more complex to address than ladling a bit more guilt on to the moderate drinker’s shoulders and calling it a day, or at least a campaign.

So, to bastardise Michael Pollan, American author and food activist: Drink something, not too much, mostly what you really enjoy.