Tuesday 23 August 2022

Cowering in the safe space

It has been widely observed that today’s young people are much less likely to engage in risky and rule-breaking behaviour than previous generations. There has been a marked decline in smoking, drinking, taking illicit drugs and underage sex and pregnancy. Of course this is nothing new and was exemplified by the character of Saffy in Absolutely Fabulous in the 1990s.

These trends have been widely welcomed as representing a shift to a more health-conscious and socially responsible attitude, although on the other hand some have expressed regret that we have been raising a generation of censorious wowsers.

However, new research reported in the Guardian shows that this aversion to risk and social engagement has its negative consequences:

Many young people increasingly choose to stay within a comfort zone of a small network of like-minded friends in which much of their social activity is virtual, according to mental health experts.

While this can give them more control over some aspects of their lives, it can also lead to social anxiety when they have to interact with people offline, the experts added.

Natalie Phillips, a psychotherapist who works with children and young people aged from 11 to 25, said: “I’m seeing a disproportionate increase in referrals for social anxiety, professional anxiety, general self-confidence and relationship issues for this generation when they are confronted with the reality of being in an office, being in a nightclub, being in a pub, or being on a date.”

Obviously the widespread school and university closures and encouragement of working from home during the Covid crisis have served to exacerbate this tendency. And it has been greatly encouraged by the rise of social media over the past fifteen years, which has enabled people to have a high degree of virtual social contact without ever meeting face to face.

However, a major factor behind this withdrawal from society that doesn’t get the recognition it deserves must be the sustained campaign to discourage young people from socialising in pubs. In the 1970s, we were able to drink in pubs from the age of 16, some even earlier. The licensees knew it was happening, and so did the police, but in general they were happy to turn a blind eye unless there was any trouble. There were no mobile phones and no internet, so arranging meets in the pub was an obvious and straightforward way to socialise.

At this time, there were no fun pubs or circuit bars, so you had to mix in with other customers with a variety of different ages. Indeed it was often the smaller and less improved pubs that were the most welcoming to under-18s. Knowing that you would be out on your ear, no questions asked, if you stepped out of line helped encourage responsible behaviour. While there is a lot of pious guff talked about pubs being a controlled drinking environment, in this situation the argument did apply. Young people were learning how to drink in a social setting and keep their consumption and behaviour in check.

The same continued at university, although now with the cloud of possible underage drinking having been lifted. The pub was the natural place for students to socialise. Some may suggest I am looking at this through rose-tinted spectacles, and certainly there were examples of trouble, refusal of service and drinking far too much (although most of my bad experiences of alcohol in my teens occurred in private houses). But overall I would say this tolerated rite of passage into adulthood did far more good than harm.

However, from the 1990s onwards, things started to change as there was a growing moral panic in society about the evils of underage drinking, and so ever-increasing pressure was put on pubs to strictly enforce the law. Asking your age turned to ID cards, and Challenge 21 became Challenge 25. Not only were you unable to get a drink if you were under 18, but even if you were well over you would be treated with great suspicion. No longer were pubs available as a social venue for young people that was open to all comers and did not judge you. It should be stressed that the finger of blame should not be pointed at the pubs themselves – it is simply no longer worth them taking the risk.

Of course young people can still consume soft drinks, but licensees are understandably wary of mixed groups where it’s impossible to control who is drinking what, and many venues where under-25s gather are now strictly over-18 only. And under-18s can’t drink alcohol-free beers, as they are age-restricted products due to carrying alcohol branding.

Much socialising now takes place in parental homes, where there is likely to be a more tolerant attitude than fifty years ago, or in private flats and houses. In both of these settings, who is allowed in is controlled, so you can’t just casually walk in. It may move to the street or park benches, where adult supervision is non-existent and the alcohol may well have been bought on the black market.

Or, as the study has shown, informal, unstructured socialising between young people has just ceased to exist as they retreat into a virtual world, which carries its own dangers of people not being who they seem. This policy had undoubtedly resulted in a great reduction in underage drinking in licensed venues, but it’s very questionable whether it has brought about an overall benefit to young people’s social development. And it has damaged pubs, as if people don’t get into the habit of visiting them when young they probably never will.

In contrast, it’s interesting that Japan – which of course is a very different society – is now urging young people to drink more to boost the economy.

10 comments:

  1. The first place I drank as a sixteen year old in the late eighties was the bar of a Labour club after political meetings there, halves of keg Greenall's bitter with a group of mostly older drinkers. Being a members' club, it was a very controlled environment (I think technically we should have been signed in by an adult, but no one seemed to be bothered). It's now a children's nursery. As sixth formers, we sometimes popped to a nearby pub in the summer during our free periods and drank outside in the beer garden. Again there wasn't much thought of the law on underage drinking and we were never asked for ID, despite being in school uniform.

    By the time we were 18 and left school in 1989, a big gang of us were drinking regularly at weekends in a keg Whitbread pub that had a mostly younger clientele. It shut for refurbishment in the early nineties and reopened as a dining place with a no jeans or trainers dress code that was a clear signal that were no longer welcome there, so most of us migrated to a very smoky sixties-built estate pub at the other end of the village that sold Holt's cask beers and which we'd always thought of being exclusively for old men, although it turned out that they tended to drink in the vault or snug, leaving the lounge a more mixed room in both age and gender. It's since been knocked through and is also more of a dining place now.

    None of my younger relatives or their friends socialise in pubs. They mostly drink at home, and far less than we did at their age, and chat to each other via social media. I doubt that any of the pubs we frequented as teenagers and in our twenties would now welcome large groups of young people taking up tables drinking and not dining.

    ReplyDelete
  2. In my juvenile illegal drinking days, pubs were places where you could talk - no music, bandits, TV, smart phones. Conversation, frindship, and some romance flourished Beer was affordable but your consumption was still budget limited. But as in the cafes of the time, the bar man did not chase you out if you lingered over a slow pint. There was a wide range of ages and classes in pubs.
    Happy, very happy days. If I had a pint, I would weep into it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. As Doonhamer says, it was great back then and we've lost so much of the socialising involved. When I was just in the 6th form, the school allowed every pupil out at lunchtime for 1.5 hours, as they were rebuilding the on-site dining facilities. My friends and I went to the pub, whose friendly landlord was happy to serve 16 year olds as long as they behaved. Afternoons back at school were sometimes tricky after three pints!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In those good old days there weren't any boring fuddy duddy censorious CAMRA types tut tutting at folks enjoying a decent beer. A beer that was drinkable, not the flat warm pong that the trainspotting CAMRA types adore.

      Delete
  4. Replies
    1. I'd say it was more towards the mid 2000s and beyond where the attitude to young drinking became a moral panic. I remember being in 6th form in 2001 and visiting the pub at lunchtime where there was an uneasy alliance between students and a few of the teachers who were often found in there.

      It took a few sensationalist articles in the press about drunken teenagers at the weekend causing havoc, in general it was exaggerated, but of course by that point something must be done! By the late 2000s though a mix of high drinks prices and cheap, easily available drugs obtained by mobile phone meant groups were staying at home longer before going out, leaving pubs and bars unfairly trying to manage customers who were severely under the influence but had spent little to no time, and therefore money, in licensed premises.

      Delete
  5. Really good points Mudgie. I don't know about you, but my feeling is - and you hint at it more than a bit - that young people find interacting with adults more than a tad difficult. You can't joke with them if they serve you at the bar, as it flies straight over their head. Most of all, they can rarely look you in the eye. In fact, most will serve you in silence and if you pay by card, the transaction can take place without a word being spoken on the barstaff side, unless it is to continue a conversation with other barstaff of a similar age as they serve you. There are exceptions, of course, but mixing of ages outside the home is a dying thing I fear.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, I've noticed on several occasions that what I would regard as just normal conversational nuances leave them baffled. Another example of this is the growing view that actually ringing someone up to talk to them, rather than sending a text or some other form of message, is ill-mannered and intrusive.

      Delete
    2. Telephone calls are intrusive. They drag you away from whatever work you are doing to deal with some trivial matter. Texts or emails can be answered at your convenience not that of the originator of the message.

      Delete
    3. You can always answer the call and tell the caller that you are busy and will call them back. I have found that much more can be resolved in a telephone or face to face conversation than in a stream of messages

      Delete

Comments, especially on older posts, may require prior approval by the blog owner. See here for details of my comment policy.

Please register an account to comment. Unregistered comments will generally be rejected unless I recognise the author. If you want to comment using an unregistered ID, you will need to tell me something about yourself.