Roger Scruton mourns the demise of that great British social institution - the village pub
EU membership has prevented the Chancellor from raising duty on alcohol in proportion either to the real value of money, or to the real wealth of consumers. People can now drink at home in ways inconceivable to my parents. Indicative of changing habits is the recycling box our local council provides. Our farming neighbours, who once had no use for bottles, as they took their milk from the cow and their beer from the tap, all now place a box at their gate on alternate Wednesdays. And inside it are the fortnight's supply of wine bottles.
First victim of this change in lifestyle is the village pub. All over our neighbourhood, the pubs are being sold off as "executive homes", to people whose work and leisure, social life and shopping take place elsewhere. We all regret this. The pub has been a social institution as important as the church and the Women's Institute, on which our community has depended for centuries for information, solace and the flow of undemanding affection. Take it away and you greatly increase not only the isolation of rural communities, but the alienation of their members. You destroy the slow dilution of alcohol by words, which has been the secret down the centuries for retaining self-control. Hence you add to the likelihood of "binge drinking" - that wordless, howling amnesia which arises when drinking is deprived of its institutional form.
The practice of buying rounds in the pub is one of the great British institutions. It enables people with little money of their own to make generous gestures, without the risk of being ruined by them. It enables people to distinguish themselves from their neighbours and to portray their individuality in their choice of drink, and it causes affection progressively to mount in the circle of drinkers, by giving each in turn the character of a warm and hospitable friend. In a way, it is a moral improvement on the Greek symposium, where the host alone appeared in the character of the giver, and also on the Oxbridge common room and the country house. The round of drinks enables even the speechless and the downtrodden briefly to receive the thanks and the honour of their neighbours.
Health fascists have never liked these loud, beery, smoke-filled places where people cheerfully opt for an early death in good company over loveless longevity in a hospital bed. Nor have the equality fascists been pleased by those bars where distinctions of class and sex are still upheld, albeit in tempered forms. Hence laws and regulations are being devised that will ensure that the village pub gives way to the tourist restaurant, and our farmers stay drinking at home. But why visit the countryside, when the farmers have been hidden away? The interests of tourist and farmer coincide: each should be including the other in a round of drinks.
Post this article to
We want to encourage people to comment on our content and to exchange views with other readers and hope this will be done on a courteous basis. However, if you encounter posts which are offensive please let us know by emailing comments@newstatesman.co.uk and we will take swift action where necessary.
