Consumers, not retailers, of alcohol are the real polluters

Lack of shame in public drunkenness is root of problem Scotland has with drink, believes ALLAN MASSIE

'THE polluter pays". This has become one of the cant phrases of our time, and so it was no surprise to see it trotted out in connection with the justice minister's proposal to levy a charge on supermarkets and off-licences as part of his campaign against under-age drinking, binge-drinking, and our alcoholic culture.

Sometimes of course the principle that the polluter should pay makes good sense. We can all agree on that, though where you draw the line is a more difficult question. There's for instance no suggestion, I think, of a levy on bus companies, though the exhaust fumes from city buses are a chief cause of what is called "air pollution", as anyone walking along Princes Street could tell you.

It's difficult, however, to see in what sense the purveyors of alcoholic drinks can properly be charged with causing pollution. You might more reasonably call their customers polluters. It is they, after all, not the managers of supermarkets or off-licences, who reel about the streets drunk, discard beer cans and wine bottles, and generally make a nuisance of themselves. Buying booze is a voluntary act, and it is the buyers, not the sellers, who find themselves in accident and emergency wards or police cells, who suffer liver disease and impose costs on the public purse.

Even if you think the sellers are guilty – a dubious proposition – you might as well blame the government – successive governments, indeed – for our national alcohol problem as supermarkets and off-licences. It is governments, after all, which regulate the hours at which alcohol may legally be sold, and it has been the relaxation of old restrictions which makes it possible to buy booze at all hours of the day or night.

A government which really wanted to tackle the problem might well choose to make it illegal for shops, supermarkets and off-licences to sell booze after 6 o'clock in the evening. It's unlikely that such a restriction will be imposed, for the good reason that it would irritate and inconvenience so many people. But it could be done. After all, it's not so long since off-sales were illegal here on Sundays and supermarkets had to fence off their liquor shelves.

Supermarkets are blamed for selling liquor cheaply as a loss-leader, and this is held to be a cause of the higher incidence of alcoholism. But again, it is government legislation which has made this possible, by the abolition more than 40 years ago of resale price maintenance. Few of us might want to return to the days when producers fixed prices and retailers were unable to compete with each other on price, but you can't have it both ways. It's no good demanding a free and competitive market and then complaining when prices are cut for competitive reasons.

It would be foolish to deny that we have a problem with alcohol in Scotland – and indeed throughout the UK; and it would also be foolish to pretend that price and availability don't contribute to this. Liquor is cheaper than it was half a century ago and far more widely available too. But it is still more expensive, and no more widely available, than in most European countries which do not have a comparable problem. Public drunkenness is common here, rare in France, Germany, Italy and Spain – except in those resorts where British tourists congregate.

What conclusion is to be drawn? Simply this: that it is primarily a cultural problem. People don't get drunk in public in countries where being in that condition is regarded as shameful. But where there is no such inhibition, getting blootered is common and may even be a matter for pride. In 19th century Scotland, drunkenness was curtailed by means of a moral reformation, which spawned the temperance movement. Respectable people, at all levels of society, either did not drink, or drank only in moderation. There were of course alcoholics, as there are, and always will be, in every society, but public drunkenness became much rarer than it is today.

So we have a problem. It may be, however, that we exaggerate its extent. Most of the young people seen staggering about our city streets late at night will not become alcoholics. Most will sober up when they get jobs, get married, have families and assume responsibilities. They will put their carefree enthusiasm for booze behind them. In other words, they will grow up.

It's true that the statistics with which the government and health authorities bombard us may suggest otherwise. It's true that hospital admissions for alcohol-related illnesses are higher than they used to be. It's true that the number of deaths related to alcohol is also rising. But some of the statistics are misleading. We should by now have learned to mistrust all statistics expressed in terms of percentages. A 50 per cent rise in hospital admissions or what are called "alcohol-related deaths" means nothing unless you know what the base figure is, or what the actual numbers are. Even an increase in the number of such deaths may mean less than may be at first glance apparent, for "alcohol-related" is an imprecise term.

No-one of sense will deny the misery that alcoholism causes, the damage it does to individuals and their families. Yet we should try to keep a sense of proportion: the number of young "binge-drinkers" who proceed to full-blown alcoholism is small, and likely to remain small. We must all know many who drank heavily and wildly when they were young and who now drink sensibly and moderately in middle-age. Nor should we be much concerned by statistics which purport to show that millions regularly exceed the so-called "safe limits", for such limits are arbitrarily determined and bear no relation to the differing effects of alcohol on individuals.

We have a problem which is essentially cultural, but it is less serious than is pretended, less serious because, for most people, heavy and uncontrolled drinking represents a phase in their lives, one which they will some day put behind them. Meanwhile talk of making the polluter pay is pretty fair nonsense. It is the cant language of politicians eager to be seen taking action, no matter that the action is absurd and futile.