The characterisation by the Minister for Health Mr Martin of the "national alcohol problem" is timely and apt. I think we should take him literally. The figures, including the most recent survey of youth drinking, indicate that we have reached the unenviable status of an alcoholic nation.
The average rate of alcohol consumption for Irish people reported in statistics has not until recently been as spectacular as our reputation for hard drinking suggested. This was partly because a high proportion of Irish people either drank very little or not at all. The remainder, however, had been making up for them in spades, so we are catching up fast on our image.
The caricature of the Irish as hard drinkers emanated mainly from Irish immigrant communities in Britain and the US, where the image had more than a little truth. The high incidence of mental illness and alcoholism among the expatriate Irish had to do with homesickness and estrangement, a desire to fill the gap between themselves and the surrounding society, from which they were divided by a deep sense of alienation.
Alcohol served as an analgesic to dull the pain. Where statistical data exists, the evidence is that the Irish "drink less and are more likely to abstain from drink than other national groups".
So said one study by Liam Greenslade, describing the pattern of drinking among emigrants in Britain as a pathological response to their situation, "a substitute for community rather than a component of it".
The evidence that a similar condition is now afflicting the native population is increasing.
Our average consumption levels are now, among European Union countries, second only to Luxembourg, and if adult abstainers were properly accounted for, it is likely that Ireland would jump to the top of the league. In 1960 per capita consumption of alcohol in Ireland was less that five litres; today it is over 12 litres and rising fast. The national spend on alcohol is now nearly £5 a day for every adult in the State.
We have known for some time about the problem of young people and alcohol. A survey as far back as 1984 found that 65 per cent of post-primary pupils between 14 and 17 had already had their first drink. By 1991, this had climbed to 78 per cent. In 1995 a survey in the north-west put the figure at 83 per cent. In 1994 a survey of schoolchildren in the Cork/Kerry area found that 20 per cent of nine-year-olds had already used alcohol.
The evidence also gave the lie to the theory that such trends are symptoms of a change common to all societies experiencing increasing affluence.
In fact, even before the current boom, the Irish figures for youth drinking were much worse than elsewhere, with one 1994 survey finding that 69 per cent of 14-year-olds and 93 per cent of 17-year-olds in Dublin had consumed alcohol, as against 62 per cent and 84 per cent in these respective categories in the US. There is, then, a special problem here and it has been with us for a long time. We are now a deeply addicted society, with alcohol the most visible indicator.
There is an indisputable connection between the consumption of alcohol and increasing prosperity, but it is not a simple one. It is interesting that urban households, having higher incomes, spend more on alcohol than rural households, just as families in the eastern half of the country spend more on alcohol than those in the west. In general, the pattern of alcohol consumption tends to "follow the money" - the greatest consumption occurring in the most affluent households. This is slightly misleading, however, since it is the poorer groups, in particular unskilled manual workers who have the highest relative spending on alcohol, which accounts on average for almost twice the expenditure in poor households as in well-to-do households.
Our increased alcohol consumption, when contemplated at all, was seen as the enjoyment of affluence. But closer examination suggests it might be regarded more accurately as indicating endurance of affluence. It is clear from the deep-set detail that there is no absolute connection between alcohol consumption and affluence in the narrow sense, that is, the enjoyment of increased wealth. The evidence, on the contrary, is of a connection on the negative side, with what social scientists call ano-mie.
Irish emigrants abroad drank because they were lonely, but their drinking became associated with the poverty which was almost invariably their lot. Today, Irish people living in their own country, are in a sense just as lonely, and whereas no amount of riches seems to offset this condition, the poor seem to suffer most of all. In other words, the changes and increased wealth in our society have increased addiction even among those who have not benefited from the boom.
What Mr Martin calls our "national alcohol problem" is evidence of a deepening hole in the Irish psyche which only certain liquids and substances can fill. Since alcoholism in the individual is now generally recognised as a spiritual disease, is there any good reason not to come to a similar conclusion about the collective patterns?