Authors: Brian O'Connell
As already mentioned, the Irish industry does not differentiate between beers and spirits and its approach to the problem of alcohol abuse is one of a united front, unlike in Denmark, for
instance, where the industry has fractured.
‘We are strongly of the view that alcohol is alcohol is alcohol. Our view is that it would not be useful in helping to promote responsible drinking if we differentiated between the
products. We don’t believe one product is benign as opposed to another one.’
Of the current deficiencies in the overall approach to problem drinking in Ireland,
MEAS
, though, accepts there are shortcomings in the current societal approach:
‘I think there is recognition that this is a complex problem that needs a multifaceted approach. It’s something we don’t have at present. There is a lot of consensus that we need
a national policy towards alcohol involving all the relevant departments. There are some individuals opposed to us all getting around a table, as they see it purely as a public health issue. That
will have to change.’
——
It’s clear from the current body of research that Ireland has high levels of problem drinking which is costing society. Our per capita consumption levels continue to rank
among the highest in Europe. It’s worth bearing in mind also that the Total Abstinence Association (or Pioneers) still claim membership of close to 200,000 individuals in Ireland, committed
to abstaining from alcohol. When that group is taken out of the adult population, then the statistics paint an even starker picture. The binge-drinking levels, particularly among young adults, are
placing huge burdens on health services, and will continue to do so through the life of each drinker. More studies are needed on the links between alcohol, suicide and depression, and there is also
a need for more accurate information with regard to coroners’ reports and the collection of alcohol-related harm statistics. The government, for their part, are in a difficult position, with
a powerful drinks lobby employing close to 100,000 individuals at a time of economic stress. There are different viewpoints within government as to how best to tackle the problem and indeed the
responsibility falls, sometimes, between different departments.
It remains to be seen whether or not self-regulation within the industry is the best way to approach the issue. During the 1990s and into 2001, when research was showing drinking levels to be
reaching critical proportions, the industry took very little concrete action to tackle the issue, aside from internal discussions. It wasn’t until 2002, after damning statistics on
binge-drinking had been released the previous year, that efforts were made to publicly address the problem.
MEAS
, despite its protestations, is a drinks industry body, and
rarely if ever criticises the direction of Ireland’s drinking patterns in public. There is a cosy feel to its literature and stance, and it comes across as more of an ‘after the
event’ body than one seriously committed to tackling the underlying issues of Ireland’s drinking patterns.
A failing of the State has been identified in the area of treatment, particularly among young persons. The Minister’s failure to address this issue will do little to reassure those at the
front line—the addiction counsellors, the psychiatrists, the worried parents and the doctors—that there are adequate supports in place to effectively treat our increasing class of young
problem drinkers.
With over 100 recommendations, the Strategic Taskforce on Alcohol had some useful and timely suggestions, such as accurate data gathering, investment in treatment services and a look at minimum
pricing. Many of these suggestions remain to be implemented, as does a serious look at the issue of alcohol sponsorship in sport. Meanwhile, the government point to measures such as raising the
cost of an off-licence by €200 and pulling back off-trade opening hours as measures of success. Such ‘signal policies’, as they were called elsewhere, fail to tackle the underlying
behavioural issues at the core of Ireland’s problematic relationship with alcohol.
It is clear also that a division exists between the public health lobby and the drinks industry on how best to tackle the issue, with government moving between the two groups. Government needs
to adopt a clear, singular approach, and without a National Alcohol Policy, it is unlikely that this will ever happen organically.
Even the Taoiseach, Brian Cowen, has adopted a laissez-faire attitude in public on occasion. During an interview with ‘Hot Press’ magazine, he was prompted to give his tuppence on
our binge-drinking levels, and instead of offering a clean break with past tolerances, he seemed to indicate it was okay for young people to let their hair down now and again. He claimed that young
people ‘should be able to go out and enjoy themselves’ with alcohol, as long as they ‘find a balance and keep the head’, while adding that he was ‘all for people
enjoying themselves’, but wouldn’t ‘welcome a boozing sort of culture’ coming into the country. Coming into the country? All the evidence says it’s already here. Who
is advising him and how blinded can he be to the realities of Ireland’s association with alcohol?
As journalist Gemma O’Doherty noted in a follow-up article, ‘There isn’t a pocket of the planet where Ireland’s reputation as a “boozing culture” isn’t
seen as part and parcel of our national identity.’ And it’s not as if Cowen is alone in his observations. When his predecessor, Bertie Ahern, was confronted with a survey that showed
Irish schoolchildren as the third-highest substance samplers in the world, his response was ‘They’re just experimenting. Just because you smoke a joint doesn’t make you a
druggie.’ So if that is part of the higher ranks of government thinking (and we’ve already heard the Minister of State’s views on a lack of awareness outside her own community),
where will the pressure to tackle Ireland’s drinking culture come from? Certainly not from the estimated 80,000–100,000 workers dependent on the Irish drinks industry, more precious now
as the country enters into a prolonged downward economic cycle.
Perhaps not from the industry themselves, who promote ‘drink responsibly’ and ‘drink aware’ campaigns while simultaneously offering solutions to irresponsible drinking
and its consequences on their websites. It’s akin to speaking with clarity out of the one side of their mouth while slurring through the other. And therein lies the Irish complex. What we say
and do are two different things when it comes to alcohol, and the industry is a strong lobby determined to maintain the status quo. The public health lobby has to fight for attention, but with our
health service under constant strain and scrutiny for a host of other deficiencies, from cancer screening to cystic fibrosis treatment, organ transplants to proper community healthcare packages,
tackling the alcohol issue doesn’t seem all that high on the policymakers’ agenda.
Conclusion
When money’s tight and is hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt—
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN
.
T
he story of Ireland and its people, as told through literature, song and poetry, is often soaked in alcohol. Behan, Kavanagh, O’Brien,
MacGowan, the Dubliners, Richard Harris, Donal McCann, Luke Kelly, Phil Lynott and Rory Gallagher were all marked by an overdependence on the booze at various times in their lives, which informed
and shaped their artistic output. They were products of their environments, and alcohol was seen as a fertiliser of artistic freedom, as allowing creativity to flourish, despite the cost in human
terms. The only filmed interview with Flann O’Brien that is known to exist shows a desperately shy, insecure, half-shot and inarticulate individual, decidedly the worse for wear. It’s
rarely shown on Irish television and the image doesn’t make it onto posters or stamps. ‘Great Irish Writers Who Pissed Their Lives Away’ has decidedly less market value than
‘Great Irish Writers’ full stop. Yet behind every drinking writer and artist, there are surely days of empty retching and starvation, mental anguish and trauma. Those stories, with a
few notable exceptions (such as Nuala O’Faolain’s
Are You Somebody?
), are largely left untold and almost completely written out of Irish popular culture. It’s much the same
with Ireland itself. As a country we rely on the drinks industry for revenue and employment, we rely on the image of ourselves as a booze nation to attract tourists, and we rely on alcohol to paper
over the cracks of our emotional longing. The romanticism of excess thrives in Ireland, where the problem drinker is often harboured by society, sheltered in his or her forgiving bay for longer
than would be the case in most other countries. For a non-drinker, the pervasiveness of alcohol within society can be alienating and socially marginalising.
During the research for this book, and having lived sober in Ireland for almost half a decade, I see few signs of a reduction in the relationship between Ireland and alcohol emerging. The terms
of reference between the two might be shifting, with the decline of the bar trade and the rise in domestic drinking, yet that in itself merely reflects a more insular and less community-orientated
society which has emerged in the past two decades. Communities are also witnessing the closure of independent local shops and post offices, so that the decline in the rural bar trade, in
particular, can be seen as part of a wider move towards urbanisation. There are other reasons for the shift to off-premises drinking. Over the past five years, many have paid over the odds for
homes they are now intent on enjoying. The pub experience is easily reproduced in a home setting with modern audiovisual appliances and a better range of take-home drinks. Therefore, less numerous
and less populated bars in Ireland should not be confused with a maturing of our relationship with the gargle. It is revealing that the two events publicans point to as reasons for a decline in the
trade are the smoking ban and the stricter enforcement of drink-driving laws. Yet the smoking ban has been mimicked all over Europe, while the drink-driving enforcement was a necessary focus on
implementing existing laws at a time when road deaths were spiralling. Still, those two events are seen less for the impact they have had had on reducing illness and death and more for their
supposed effect on drinks revenue. Too often when it comes to addressing issues associated with alcohol in Ireland, money talks.
——
In April 2009, during our most recent economic woes, the ‘Late Late Show’ decided to invite actor Eamon Morrissey on to the show to recite Flann
O’Brien’s ‘The Workman’s Friend’. This was prime-time Friday night entertainment, with the actor reciting the poem behind a mock bar erected on the floor of the
studio. The last refrain goes: ‘In time of trouble and lousy strife,/You have still got a darlint plan,/You still can turn to a brighter life—
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR
ONLY MAN
.’ Morrissey had adapted the poem for his play,
The Brother
, in the early 1970s, and on cue at the end of the poem downed a pint in one, before wiping his brow and
taking a seat next to the host, Pat Kenny. Generally, the ‘Late Late Show’ is an irony-free zone. Therefore, in a country where statistics over the past few decades consistently point
to high incidences of problem drinking, where the alcohol-related harm figures have soared, where binge-drinking is prevalent among our teenagers, where per capita consumption stays ahead of the
EU
average, the question is: how acceptable is it for a Friday night chat show to host an actor downing a pint in one and heralding the pint as the answer to all of
life’s problems? Will the startling facts and figures we now possess do anything to dislodge the symbiotic relationship between Irish culture and alcohol?
The imaging was similarly myopic when the Ryder Cup, the largest golf tournament in the world, was held on Irish soil in 2006. As a celebratory nod to the host country, European captain Ian
Woosnam was seen by millions around the world downing a pint of the black stuff in one and presenting the empty glass to the cheering attendees. He did it because this is what you do when you are
in Ireland. There was little or no comment in the media afterwards on the suitability of the image—indeed, many papers and news bulletins had it as their lead item. It’s a similar tale
when visiting dignitaries come here. Ex-Taoiseach Bertie Ahern felt the need to bring then us President Bill Clinton round to his local in Drumcondra for a pint during a visit. The images went
around the world. No one at home batted an eyelid; in fact, there would have been questions had Bertie
not
introduced Bill to the black stuff, given that it is a long-established tradition
for American presidents on Irish soil.
What I’m trying to get at is that, despite increased legislative approaches to tackling the issue of alcohol abuse in Irish society, despite a greater awareness by those in the drinks
industry that problems exist, and despite the documenting of those problems and their cost to Irish society, the underlying relationship between Ireland and alcohol continues to have deep
psychological and cultural roots. Throughout the ages, travellers to Ireland, from the seventeenth century onwards, perpetuated the image of the drunken Paddy, recounting their experiences and
perhaps exaggerating certain aspects for political purposes. In the twenty-first century we don’t need others to do the stereotyping for us—we’ve become experts at fuelling the
image of the drunken Paddy all by ourselves.
Having just come through a period of financial giddiness, Irish society is now suffering the mother of all monetary hangovers. While economic moderation might be the future, alcoholic excess
very much remains the present. How the economic straitening will affect our relationship with alcohol remains to be seen. On the one hand, disposable income will not be so readily available, which
should have a knock-on impact on per capita consumption. The alarming spikes in binge-drinking and per capita consumption directly reflected the rise in prosperity during the Celtic Tiger years. It
was a period of abandonment and recklessness, and it will be interesting to see whether or not tighter economic times lead to behavioural changes in relation to alcohol. Responsibility starts at
home, though, and as many in this book have commented, parents need to take the lead in allowing moderation and maturity to determine their children’s relationship with alcohol.