Please excuse the reek of smug superiority emanating from this piece. I’m feeling pleased with myself, having completed dry January (plus a bit of February). It wasn’t as hard as I expected, especially when I calculated I had been drinking alcohol for around six decades.

I started as a 16-year-old in a small pub in Aberdeen’s east end.  It had a reputation for a relaxed interpretation of the licensing laws. True, the barman did ask if I was 18, but his curiosity extended no further. I didn’t really enjoy my first pint of heavy, costing around two bob (10p), but I persevered. It wasn’t entirely a relaxing experience.  Every time the door opened, I looked over my shoulder in case it was the constabulary checking for under-age tipplers. Do they still do that?


Doug Marr: Ill fares the land where plutocracy rules


When I got home, it was Polo mint time to camouflage my beery breath. My father wasn’t a teetotaller, but I knew he would disapprove of communing with alcohol at an early age. New Year was the only time we had alcohol in the house. How many households can say that nowadays?  Hard to believe, but my mother never set foot in a pub in her life. She was no feminist poster girl, believing “pubs weren’t places for women”. In those days, anything associated with alcohol and its consumption was treated with sniffy opprobrium.   

How times have changed. The teetotaller has become something of a curiosity. A teetotal friend is almost apologetic when explaining he doesn’t drink. Alcohol has become an essential lubricant at social events and even at business meetings. On rare Saturday nights on the town, I’m surprised by the number of youngsters who are under the influence. 

I don’t know what my mother would have made of it, but it's often young females who are the loudest and most “boisterous”. A wee (no pun intended) while ago, I was astonished to see a young lady having ahem, a late-night “comfort stop” in a shop doorway. Once upon a time, being drunk was something to be ashamed of. Nowadays, being legless is something to boast about.   

In former times, drunks were mostly working men, usually laughed at, pitied, condemned, or all three. They have been replaced by much younger drinkers, contributing to the carnage that can be witnessed any weekend under Glasgow’s Heilanman’s Umbrella. The so-called night economy is fuelled by alcohol. As a temporary abstainer, I’m in no position to make a moral judgment, but it does highlight our ambivalent attitude towards alcohol.

I have long wondered for example, about our national pride in the whisky industry. We all know regular consumption of even small quantities of alcohol can be harmful. Yet we are comfortable with export drives encouraging people in other lands to consume more of the stuff. Yes, yes, I know how much the whisky industry contributes to the national economy; £62 billion in 2022. Columbian and Mexican drug cartels probably make similar cases for the value of cocaine exports to their countries’ economies.


Doug Marr: Time to return football to its rightful owners


As is the case with North Sea oil and gas, the Scottish Government tries to ride two horses at once. It runs scared of its Green allies and the vocal drinks industry.  Consultation on the perfectly reasonable proposal to restrict alcohol advertising provoked predictable outrage from the industry and its apologists. While we’re at it, how about a similar restriction on gambling advertising? 

Alternatively, let’s have a counter-advertising campaign promoting sobriety. It could emphasise all the positives, such as saving money. Goodness knows how much I have spent on alcohol over the past 60 years. Come to think of it, there’s no reason why non-alcoholic drinks are so expensive.

Let’s also emphasise the possibility of having a good time without alcohol. It’s better and safer to be around sober people. They’re sharper and more sensible. Let’s face it, most drunks are tedious company. Advertising could also promote free apps such as MyDrinkaware, that help monitor and control consumption. Yes, a positive campaign to promote the benefits of sobriety. I’ll drink to that.