Scotland’s drink problem

Some years ago, goes the story, a trainload of Scottish football supporters were heading for England. Wembley. The bagpipes wailed familiar laments about Scotland’s historic woundings.

The noise got louder and louder; one piercing cry, though, penetrated the wall of sound with insistent plaintiveness. “Penicillin!” was the bewildering shout.

Gradually, the compartment became quieter and quieter as people turned and looked at the source of the cry – an archetypal wee man in a bunnet, staring crazily into space.

“Penicillin!” he cried again. “Penicillin! Tarmacadam! Television! The greatest wee country that God has made!”

Having delivered himself of this eulogy to his native land, God’s messenger then sank into an incoherent, drunken collapse.

Did this event actually happen in real time? Who knows. What we do know is that mythology can convey truths in very powerful and illuminating ways.

Scotland's relationship with strong drink has been problematical for years. Scotland certainly knows how to create world-class spirits, as strong sales abroad continue to testify.

At home, though, that same potent product leaves a trail of human wreckage, much of which can be tracked through accident and emergency units at weekends throughout the land. Repeated studies have shown that the Scottish tendency to overindulge in alcoholic spirits is often a form of self-medication; gulping down large quantities of whisky is the preferred Scottish route to a desired oblivion.

“Drowning one's sorrows" is an apt phrase. There are plenty of sorrows – both historical and contemporary – in today's Scotland.

The losses of Flodden and Culloden are rehearsed in hostelries and streets throughout Scotland – and that's without going near the Highland Clearances. The maudlin Scottish weekend playbook is a litany of lamentations. Too often these litanies are sung behind closed doors by women, who fear the tread of a firebreathing partner weaving his way home, fists clenched for action.

The spike in cases of domestic violence after Old Firm games has been well documented; even pet dogs who have checked the football results know to go into hiding. Wha's like us? God help us. I write as one who enjoys a fine Scottish dram. But the time for re-calibrating Scotland's relationship with booze is long overdue. The price in terms of human misery and pressure on already groaning medical services is too high to bear.

Something has to change in the self-styled greatest wee country in the world.

But what, exactly? Prohibition is counter-productive. The Scottish government, which stands accused of harbouring an authoritarian tendency, takes the view that changing the price of alcoholic drink is the most effective way to deal with the problem.

Their stance reflects research on the impact of minimum pricing elsewhere. For instance, in Canada, nine out of 10 provinces have adopted the policy. In 2013, an Institute of Alcohol Studies report from the District of Columbia said that a 10 per cent price increase in average minimum prices would result in a three to four per cent decrease in consumption.

The Scottish government’s proposal to impose a minimum price of 50p per unit of alcohol, taking a bottle of spirits to at least £14, was passed by Holyrood nearly four years ago.

A legal appeal against the move was made by the Scotch Whisky Association, who argued that the legislation breached trade law. Last week, the Court of Session supported the Scottish government's case.

The verdict was greeted with delight by medical campaigners. Dr Miles Mack, Chair of the Royal College of General Practitioners Scotland, said: “The Court of Session’s ruling will have a positive impact not only on thousands of patients across Scotland, but on practically all Scottish communities as well.

“If representatives of the drinks industry remain sceptical of the positive impact of this ruling," he added, “I and many of our College’s members will be pleased to welcome them into our surgeries to see for themselves the misery an unhealthy relationship with alcohol can cause.”

The legal struggle may not be over. There may be a further appeal to the UK Supreme Court. Given the length of time Scotland's dysfunctional relationship with alcohol has dragged on, and the mounting human and economic damage caused by the booze problem, this evidencebased proposal is welcome. Many moderate drinkers will feel they are being unfairly punished for the sins of a minority: but if the new approach works, all of Scotland stands to benefit. We badly need a new national mindset in relation to alcohol.

“There is a storm coming that shall try your foundation," said Robert Renwick in 1668. “Scotland must be rid of Scotland before the delivery come".

“At home, though, that same potent product leaves a trail of human wreckage, much of which can be tracked through accident and emergency units at weekends