Brexit and Beer

It’s no accident that Wetherspoons, the 900-plus tavern chain in the UK, is a staunch and generous supporter of Brexit. Nor was it coincidental that Hitler’s first attempted power grab was the Beer Hall Putsch. And we see Boris and Nigel more often than not hoisting a glass, not so much because of thirst as a sign of solidarity with their fans.

Now, I like a beer or two as well as anyone, and agree with the the saying attributed (incorrectly) to Martin Luther, “Beer is proof that God wants us to be happy.” I’ve even made the stuff myself, from scratch. (Only once– it took me days to scrape the over-boil off the stove.)

The association of alcohol with politics is an old one. It is said of the ancient Germanic tribes that council would meet and deliberate twice to consider important matters– the first time in the absence of drink, the second time roaring drunk. The scribe (who must have wielded enormous power) would record the results of the two meetings and the assembly would, at the third meeting, decide which one they liked better– the one that came from the heads or the one that came from the hearts.

It’s not the alcohol, but its effect on restraint, that is in play here. Nobody disputes that alcohol suppresses intellectual processes and allows the subconscious much more liberty than would otherwise be the case. It allows stuff to strut boldly that you would otherwise inhibit. The Latin in vino veritas is not far off the mark.

Allowing some expression of what we hold in our hearts but won’t express when sober is probably useful, within limits, and provides a safety valve. It may even provide a useful gauge of the true limits of political change. But a wholesale mainstreaming of everyman’s seething prejudice is not the stuff by which society is advanced. (Although it is the stuff by which political careers are advanced.)

Beer talk is fine enough at the pub where it’s expected you’re going to take extreme positions about the Maple Leafs or Liverpool United, and ultimately hold forth on how much better you could run the country if only you had the chance. You can rage on about your boss or your mother-in-law, while your chums nod sympathetically. You can make an ass of yourself climbing up on the bar to change the TV. That’s all part of pub culture. But that’s where it should stay.

The problem is not so much that we make fools of ourselves at the pub, but that beer-talk has gone mainstream in our political discourse, shoving aside thoughtful discussion as if it were some feckless sissy.

What to do? The same as we do for spitting chewing tobacco in public, throwing garbage on the sidewalk and being rude to little old ladies– call it out for what it is: ignorant (in both senses) and boorish.