Reports that tell us we should be drinking less often bear striking similarities. Take, for example, the photograph used for article headers. This is so often a stock image of someone drinking beer, usually in a pub, sometimes without regard of which alcoholic beverage is being discussed within the report itself. Many of you may already be familiar with the dirty pint glass that has become the placeholder of choice for so many of these articles.

Why, then, is beer so often singled out as the de facto graphic representation of the UK’s reportedly problematic relationship with alcohol? Anti-alcohol messaging in the United Kingdom often gives the impression it has a beer and pub problem. Could it be this problem is rooted not just in the consumption of alcohol, but in issues of class—and the stereotypes associated with who is more likely not only to drink beer, but to do so in pubs?

Most recently, reports have emerged following the publication of a new study which suggests scrapping pint measures in favour of two-thirds will lead to a reduction in the consumption of alcohol. Something about a lack of defecation and Sherlock Holmes come to mind? Well hold on to your deerstalkers, because this one’s a real doozy.

The study—which took place between February and May 2023 and was published in September 2024—was carried out by researchers from the University of Cambridge, led by Professor Dame Theresa Marteau, and published in research journal PLOS Medicine. It used 13 of the UK’s 99,000 locations licensed for the on-premise sale of alcohol as a sample—although the final data set only included 12 of these, as one of them continued selling pints anyway.

During the research period each venue was instructed not to sell pints, instead offering customers a two-thirds measure, which has been a legal serving size for beer in the UK since it was introduced to the Weights and Measures Act in 2011. The results of the study saw a 9.6% reduction in the amount of beer sold by each venue, and therefore an overall reduction in the amount of beer drunk by its customers.

“Removing the largest serving size (the imperial pint) for draught beer reduced the volume of beer sold,” the study concluded. “Given the potential of this intervention to reduce alcohol consumption, it merits consideration in alcohol control policies.”

Now I don’t work in either academia or legislation, but for me the first place where this research falls flat is that the sample size is 0.012% of all licenced premises in the UK—and that’s me being generous with an extra decimal place. There’s also no real-world way of proving these customers actually drank less, because it assumes they didn’t simply leave to go and enjoy full-sized pints, or indeed other alcoholic beverages elsewhere.

Consumer group The Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) didn’t pull any punches with its response, with newly-appointed national executive director Ash Corbett-Collins coming to the defence of pubs. “While it’s important to highlight the health benefits of moderate drinking, pubs should not be the target of punitive measures that scapegoat them as the issue, when the regulated, community setting of the pub is the home of responsible drinking,” Corbett-Collins said in a press statement.

Interestingly, the study confirms that 1700 pubs were asked to participate. That’s a remarkable number of refusals, considering that its researchers reportedly offered to compensate venues for their loss of sales. Why would so many turn it down?

““The pint is stitched into the fabric of British culture.””

Perhaps it's because the pint is stitched into the fabric of British culture, having been introduced as a legal measure in 1698, before being standardised by the Weights and Measures Act of 1824. That’s at least 200 years, multiple generations, all brought up assuming that beer—to quote messrs Brandybuck and Took—comes in pints.

Before levelling further accusations it’s important to note that the same group of researchers conducted a similar study that looked into scrapping the large (250ml) serve of wine, published in January 2024. This also saw a reduction in sales, this time 7.4%, and had a slightly larger sample, with 21 venues taking part in the study.

This research also elicited a similar style of reporting from the mainstream press, with headlines like “say goodbye to your large glass of wine” soon appearing online. Although it didn’t seem to stimulate the same number of baseless op-eds as the beer report did. Perhaps this is because it was published during January, where around 9 million Brits opt not to drink alcohol?

Or perhaps there's a different reason, one that is as deeply locked within the subconsciousness of British culture as the pint measure itself. Beer, and indeed, pubs, are considered by many as the vestiges of the working class. Just look at how politicians have always used the optics of the pint, and the pub, to express that they are down with the proletariat: Barack Obama drinking Guinness in Dublin, David Cameron taking Xi Jinping for a pint of Greene King IPA, or Nigel Farage whenever a camera is pointed in his general direction. Even Keir Starmer likes to conveniently be pictured with the odd pint, despite a former landlord of his local pub informing me that he prefers red wine when he's off duty.

I’d argue that a majority of people in the UK consider beer and pubs to be institutions of the working class, and this is actually a core part of their appeal. Could it be that the reason both come under such intense scrutiny when it comes to alcohol research and lobbying is due to our underlying negative bias towards working class people and their perceived relationship with alcohol?

“Pub drinking has always been associated with the working class,” Victoria Wells, professor of sustainable management at the University of York school for business and society tells me. “[Although] in my opinion [this is] only partially correct, as work shows that middle class drinkers have been drinking in pubs for 70 plus years, albeit in less numbers, and in the mid-century in separate rooms.”

She points me to a study conducted in Norway by Ove Skarpenes and Rune Sakslind that suggests the working class “may be treated quite paternalistically, as educationally unsuccessful and unhealthy,” and how with their link to pub culture suggestions like serving sizes in pubs are reduced seem to proliferate.

Wells says that she supports two-third measures, but in addition to the pint, not to replace it. “If the research shows that having two-third pints can help people drink less then that is great,” she adds. “Give people the choice if they want to cut down but don't force this choice on them.”

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How does a study rooted in the idea that we should be drinking less compare with British drinking habits over the past few decades? Let’s look at some data, this time with a slightly larger sample set, say, the entire adult population of the UK over the past 70 years.

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO) overall beer consumption in the United Kingdom has declined dramatically between 1961 and 2019. The data—measured in total litres of alcohol consumed and based on beer that contains 5% alcohol by volume—states that in 1961 the average adult drank 5.8 litres annually. Yet, by 2019 this figure had reduced to just 3.5 litres. That means that as a nation beer drinkers are consuming 40% less alcohol, per person, than we were 70 years ago. In fact the figure increased to nearly 8 litres per adult by the late 1970s, so if you shorten the data set then that decline looks even more dramatic.

Beer is still the most consumed alcoholic beverage in the UK, with data compiled by Oxford University and reported by The Drinks Business stating that it's the drink of choice for 36.1% of adults. This compares to 33.7% of people who prefer wine, and 24% who choose spirits. Basically, if you went into the pub together with four mates, three of them would probably choose either a glass of wine, a double gin and tonic, or perhaps an Aperol spritz before considering ordering a nice pint of bitter.

When you dig into wine and spirits consumption (per litre of alcohol) over the same time period, things start to get interesting. In 1961 the average Brit imbibed roughly 1.1 litres of alcohol from spirits per year. Consumption of whisky, gin, rum, vodka, tequila and associates then saw a steep increase throughout the 1970s which has held fast pretty much ever since, with that volume rising to 2.4 litres by 2019—an increase of 118%.

The wine data is perhaps the most interesting, because in 1961 it appears that very few people in the UK were actually drinking it, with less than half a litre of alcohol per person being consumed annually. 70 years later that volume has increased to 3.3 litres, roughly bringing it in line with beer, and indeed the percentage split of alcohol in the UK consumed as recorded by Oxford University.

““Pub drinking has always been associated with the working class.””

— Prof. Victoria Wells, University of York

If the evidence, then, suggests that as a society the UK is progressively drinking less beer, but stronger forms of alcoholic beverage are becoming more popular, why is beer so often used as a scapegoat by the media when it comes to reporting centred on drinking less? Honestly, you could also lump the large glass of wine into this argument if you really think about it. Are these studies more about how much alcohol we’re drinking, or who is drinking alcohol in this way?

Let's look at the other factor in this argument: pubs. The last time I checked, pubs sell wine and spirits along with beer, but the latest research carried out by Cambridge University chose to focus on wine and then beer in a singular sense, in terms of units of measure, rather than looking at on-trade alcohol consumption as a whole. (Can we expect a third report that assesses the impact of reducing the size of a spritz? Your guess is as good as mine.)

The interesting thing here is that the study focused on—in a very limited sense—the on trade. This is despite the fact that since 2016 more beer has been purchased through off trade retailers such as supermarkets than in pubs. Thanks to a huge gulf in pricing between them, and the average person now having less disposable income, this gap has only widened in recent years.

What I find especially concerning about the focus of this study on reducing beer consumption in pubs following is that it was published at the same time as another that suggests up to 50 pubs closed per month in the UK during the first half of 2024. Again I pose the question: if this research and its subsequent conclusion is designed to reduce the amount of beer being consumed, and therefore sold in pubs, then the obvious knock on effect would be to increasingly limit the number of spaces which regular pub-goers can do this. So who is it actually being aimed at, and why?

Lets say, for argument's sake, that legislation was introduced where the pint was scrapped and only third, half and two-third measures remained. If, as the study states, beer consumption was reduced by 10%, then so too would sales volumes, and indeed, revenues shrink by the same amount. The trend in pub closures already indicates how fine a line hospitality businesses are walking in terms of operating sustainably. Any reduction in revenue would surely only hasten the demise of those already teetering on the brink, which, as evidence suggests, is a high proportion of operators.

In addition to having terrible consequences for both those who drink and work in pubs, it would also have a disastrous knock-on effect for the businesses who supply them. There are roughly 1800 small, independent breweries in the UK, many of whom would not be able to survive a 10% reduction in sales volume, let alone hundreds more of their customers closing down en masse. I’ve no doubt that scrapping the pint would be a very effective way of reducing alcohol consumption indeed, but perhaps not in the way that those who conducted the study have properly considered. At best, if implemented, it would surely drive more people away from pubs—where the consumption of alcohol can be better monitored and regulated—to the home, where it can’t.

Where I find that studies such as this fall down is their failure to understand the nature of why pubs exist, their importance to communities and, indeed, society as a whole. If you are going to use data to frame a pub as a place where people go exclusively to consume alcohol, then you are going to be able to build an argument that suggests reducing the amount of alcohol served will have positive health benefits. But if you don’t consider the balance, by looking at aspects such as the positive impact pubs have on wellbeing and mental health, then you are presenting an incomplete picture. One I consider is biased against certain aspects of society, working class people in particular.