Why the bossy evangelism of the Dry January brigade is irritating - Jayne Dowle

This leading pub boss not only has a multi-million-pound vested interest, but also a very strong point. Just a glance at my Facebook news feed shows plenty showing off their Dry January credentials. I have to wonder – are these individuals eschewing alcohol for the undoubted personal health benefits it can bring, or to bask in praise from others?

One friend put paid to all this virtue-signalling the other day by announcing – “before anyone asks, I’m not doing Dry January. Or February. Or March, for that matter.”

I had to smile. But what worries me is that following the rules of Dry January, a campaign supported by the charity Alcohol Change UK, and waving them around with pride, sets in motion yet another social polarisation.

Are you sober or not? Why not just find a middle course, keep your decision to yourself and stick to it? And consider that your own personal actions and decisions might contribute towards a ripple effect across society.

Many people these days consume most of their alcoholic intake at home of course, but pubs remain a crucial element of British towns, cities and villages. Making life ever more difficult for those who own and operate them surely runs counter to our collective understanding of ‘community’.

Even if you’re tee-total 12 months of the year, and never touch anything stronger than lemonade, chances are you’d miss your local pub if it was gone. When one of the two Wetherspoon pubs in Barnsley town centre closed down last year as part of a wave of cuts by the chain, a local business group got together and reopened it.

Renamed ‘The Kestrel’ in honour of local hero Barry Hines’ famous 1968 novel A Kestrel for a Knave (later turned into the film Kes), it regained its place as a welcoming coffee and newspapers lounge for pensioners during the day and a friendly sports bar in the evening.

In the face of economic pressures and changing social habits, pubs are closing at an alarming rate – accelerating thanks to pandemic lockdowns and the cost of living crisis.

Yet the pub trade continues to fight its own battles. In years of successive governments, I can’t recall many senior politicians publicly declaring that a decent public house should be a cornerstone of a community, unless there’s a pint-quaffing, vote-winning photo opportunity to be made out of it, of course.

According to data produced last year by global market research and consultancy firm CGA, the number of licensed premises in the UK has decreased by almost a third (31 per cent) in the last 20 years. This equates to losing 44,000 net pubs since 2003, equivalent to just over six closures a day for the last two decades.

Whilst I firmly believe that moderation is the most sensible way to approach alcohol consumption, and have long practised ways to enjoy a glass of wine or a gin and tonic without going overboard, that’s just one of the reasons why I find the bossy evangelism of the Dry January brigade irritating.

Before anyone accuses me of irresponsibility, I write this as one whose own life has been severely impacted by the actions of an alcohol-dependent relative. In addition, I have a number of friends whose own struggles with alcohol will shape their daily lives forever.

Other people who have watched a loved one fall into the cruel clutches of alcoholism will perhaps agree that the pattern of binge-drinking and abstinence Dry January rests on is wearily familiar; just because someone is capable of giving up alcohol for a whole calendar month does not mean they have nailed their abusive relationship with it for good.

Indeed, ‘going dry’ is often held up as a badge of honour, to prove that a person can beat the demon drink. Meanwhile, friends and relatives watch and wait warily, hoping that the scales are not going to suddenly tip to the other extreme.

So forgive me if I don’t subscribe to Dry January and all it entails. If you want to enjoy alcohol, and keep a friendly and welcoming pub on your doorstep to remind you that you’re part of something bigger than yourself, my advice is to practice moderation all year round.