We only drink to be naughty

The reason we drink is that we think it’s naughty

Celia Walden

12 December 2007

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It's silly to see booze as sinful

In France, children as young as four are allowed a sip of wine at dinner, so that they may begin to accustom themselves to the taste of it, develop an appreciation of its many varieties and demystify what is essentially fermented fruit juice. Subsequently, while our children are rushing off to get drunk and vomit the moment they turn 14, French teenagers are concentrating on other, more enjoyable things. Nobody binge drinks in France. Why on earth would they? If they feel like a glass of wine, they’ll have one, even two, but they tend not to brag about getting ‘smashed’, ‘hammered’ or ‘wasted’ to their work colleagues the following morning because it would be demeaning — and why would you drink so much that it became unpleasant anyway? Think how many British men aspire to resemble characters from Men Behaving Badly (the title itself baldly summing up our British desire to provoke).

Yet attempts to curb teenage drinkers by passing draconian legislation here will only trigger a self-conscious reaction to drink still more: just look at America. Because that horned and forktailed image of a drink is not about to lose its dastardly allure, and when the parents (even grandparents) are as persuaded as the children that they are inviting damnation with every sip, our attitude is not likely to change. What Britain needs to do is retrain its psyche to understand that the appeal of wine or spirits is not a perverse one: alcohol is an enjoyable thing. So rather than following the masses in disallowing yourself something which does, in a completely unmystical way, simply heighten the joy of everyday life, on 1 January, why not pledge instead to be measured and rational over the week — and years — to come, and thereby avoid having to pay any kind of penance for your humble pleasures?

‘Moderation,’ said Plato, ‘which consists in an indifference about little things, and in a prudent and well-proportioned zeal about things of importance, can proceed from nothing but true knowledge, which has its foundation in self-acquaintance.’

Celia Walden edits the Daily Telegraph’s Spy column.