I often wonder why humans drink alcohol, mostly on Mondays after occasional weekends of overconsumption. I find myself humming the Boomtown Rats classic I don’t like Mondays or, even worse, something from The Smiths.
Fortunately, these weekends occur less often. I am unpopular enough to avoid the guest lists of most of the 50th parties that swallow my more socially active friends’ weekends.
These maudlin self-reflections occurred most recently after a golfing weekend in Hermanus. The group included four 80-somethings, so, as outings go, this one should be placed on the tamer end of the excess spectrum. After all, the 80-year-olds in question make up a Royal Cape-based golfing society that goes by the sobriquet “Mafia”. They are not The Rolling Stones. Their focus is on shooting their age, rather than shooting up. The weekend involved neither nightclubs nor any new age stimulants encased in candy or chocolates. Just a few beers, a handful of martinis and rather too much good, ordinary claret.
Back to the original question. Any alien visiting metropolitan Western society at around midnight on a Saturday night would wonder why a so-called sentient being facing an existential threat from infinitely smarter artificial entities (of their own creation) would handicap themselves by excessively consuming a substance that reduces their capacity to compete — both physically and mentally. Surely, these aliens would conclude that we are on a wilful path to self-destruction.
But some medical practitioners argue that alcohol is good for you. There have been medical claims over the years that a glass of wine in the evening is good for our hearts. And studies of Blue Zones suggest that people who drink wine every day live longer. Whether this is because of the wine, or despite it, has not been disseminated.
But the mood appears to have shifted among the scientific community. Longevity experts such as Dr Peter Attia claim that any alcohol is fundamentally bad for human cells. We already know that alcohol is poison for those who can’t stop. You only need to visit a police station at the weekend for a visual example of how alcoholism is a fundamental scourge of society. It destroys families and careers, and ends lives.
On this basis, is it conceivable that at some stage in the nearish future it will be illegal to drink as well as smoke in pubs?
Zealots from the temperance movements have been shouting from the rafters about the evils of booze since the late 18th century. Their efforts finally culminated in the 18th amendment to the US constitution in 1920.
However, the prohibition certainly didn’t stop drinking. It merely provided Al Capone and the Casa Nostra with another black market to profit from, and Hollywood with hours of content. It was about as ineffective as Nkosazana Dlamini Zuma’s ban on cigarettes during the Covid-19 lockdown.
It can be argued that mild doses of alcohol are good for us or at least for the perpetuation of our species. Research suggests that only 40% of males between the ages of 18 and 25 in the US have ever asked another living being on a date. This is a result of too much time spent in virtual reality and the feelings of inadequacy created when Generation Z compare the perfection reflected online to the imperfect proportions they see in the mirror.
A couple of dops could help this sample set to meet someone of flesh and blood. Alcohol in small doses is an effective lubricant that can encourage conversation between socially awkward humans. A few drinks dull the parts of the brain that remind antisocial people of their perceived inadequacies and trigger our endorphins.
I am aware of this phenomenon. I sometimes feel like a flower coming out to bloom in springtime after a couple of drinks. A half-grin appears on my face and jokes begin to form a disorderly line in my brain. Even bores and, God forbid, sufferers of the Dunning-Kruger effect become tolerable in this state. The key is to stop after two, though, or at least to listen to your mother’s advice and to have a break. Drink a glass of water. If you keep accelerating into the buzz, the blooming flower shall wilt into a slur. It’s fine to feel a little chilled while watching a play but unacceptable to begin a conversation with the actors on the stage.
But a steak just tastes better with a glass of cabernet to cut the fat and to enhance the bloody flavour. A crackling winter fire is never as warm without an accompanying whisky on the rocks to clink while staring into the flames in search of the meaning of life. There is nothing more refreshing than a pint of beer after 18 holes in the heat.
Our approach to alcohol reflects our view on the human experience. We are fortunate that we still have the choice. Some opt to suck the marrow out of life, living every possible experience, less concerned by the consequences to their bodies. This is an acceptable choice in a free society provided they don’t hurt anyone else in the process. Others prefer to forego temptation at 10km/h below the speed limit on the main roads, with an anxious eye on the rearview mirror, believing somehow that observing the current rules will provide them a relatively trouble-free existence. I am afraid this approach ignores the relative insignificance of human life in the fuller picture of time and space.
Humanity owes a certain debt to alcohol for the part it has played in inspiring some miraculous literature, art and music. The Paris in the 1920s of Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce was fuelled by absinthe and hangovers. How else could Picasso have conceived his rearrangement of the human face other than by looking in a mirror after a skinful? And what about Salvador Dali? Hunter S Thompson adopted a lifestyle, and Gonzo journalism, based entirely on stimulants. And we are richer for it. His mortal view on the key existential question is immortalised in this paragraph.
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather a skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow! What a ride!’”
There is no doubt that some people should never drink. But if you are lucky and disciplined enough to have developed the ability to control your consumption, and you share my view that immortality may turn out to be a tiresome curse, it can be a miraculous gift from the gods.
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