Why do we get drunk?
Ironically, I was a little more than tipsy when I leaned over to a mate and quietly (probably not so quietly) asked him why we bother drinking as much as we do. In that bar, I was in the depths of one of those drunk existential-like crises in which I was being subsumed by repeated waves of questions that all centred around that single word, why?
Let me start by assuring you that neither I nor anyone I know are alcoholics of any sort. Throughout the year drinking for me is reserved for a Thursday (uni specials night, duh) Friday or Saturday night and hardly ever on consecutive days. Nonetheless, there have been a few occasions where I have chucked the towel in and went for it.
To continue the defence of my generation, research by the Australian government highlighted that weekly risky drinking amongst adolescents aged 18–24 has dropped from 32% to 22% in the last ten years. Growing up in a world where every second advertisement was ‘drink drive, you bloody idiot’ and seminars in high school on alcohol were regular; Generation Z has not followed in the footsteps of our parents.
Despite this, the questions that arose from that one night compelled me to explore the motivation that drove the desire of my fellow uni students and I to drink excessively.
After many hours of hard reflection and consultation with numerous experts (uni students) two major answers quickly became apparent, these being: getting drunk is fun and it allows you to meet new people easily.
When we become drunk, we lose control of our ability to regulate our own actions and behaviour. For some, particularly in the new environment of uni, this is seen as beneficial, with alcohol bolstering confidence around other people. However, upon reflection, there is something deeply unhealthy about relying on excessive drinking to converse and connect with people. Such foundations of friendship are shaky at best, meaning that those people probably aren’t the sort that you would ordinarily have any authentic connection with.
When I recount the origins of my most valued friendships, quality conversations or laughter the best have not occurred because I was drunk.
Continuing from this, the argument that getting drunk is ‘fun’ is a lie which we uni students continue to believe. Because, if we were to be honest, nothing good ever really happens from getting drunk.
Waking up the morning after a big night my day follows the pattern of thousands of others as I conduct a Holmes-like investigation of my actions. Like a footy player re-watching their game from the weekend, I sit, cringing and shaking my head at the different parts of the night where I embarrassed myself.
Often there is a deep sick feeling that sits in your stomach when thinking about how you spoke or acted towards someone. The subsequent flurry of apologies that say things like ‘that wasn’t the real me,’ might be true, but lack substance and generally cause irreparable harm to relationships. Whilst I am not saying this is the case after every big night out, I am certain most people, not just uni students, have felt this at one stage or another.
Moreover, there is little doubt that the process of getting drunk is an expensive one. Even if you are branded with a reputation of ‘wouldn’t shout in a shark attack,’ drinking across the year has a substantial effect on the bank account. Party.0, an organisation that hosts sober US College parties, found that the US average student spends 900 USD on alcohol yearly. With a similar culture I would argue that Australian uni students would not be far off that.
Although I am not advocating for complete sobriety, I would suggest that the money we uni students spend getting off our face could be used instead to save for holidays or a car. Experiences and investments which are going to bring joy long after the night of drunken revelry has ended.
As I have alluded to previously, I am just as guilty as any one of my fellow uni students of using alcohol to break down social barriers of awkwardness. Building on this, I understand that my twenties are supposed to be about experimenting and making mistakes. Yet, I think I have made enough mistakes as only a nineteen-year-old to learn that the cons of getting drunk far outweigh the pros.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not presenting myself as a new member of any local temperance league. Rather, my philosophy on drinking argues that alcohol has a role to play on social occasions in the form of two or three drinks (not ten) across a night.
Personally, I think that the notion that drunkenness forges firm friendships is a myth. Combined with this, the potential impact on existing friendships as well as the bank account should place the matter beyond doubt in the uni students mind that they should not become a slave to the ‘sesh.’
With the holiday period already begun, the time is ripe for me to put this theory into practice. No doubt, my susceptibility to peer pressure will lean on me heavily which could cause a few hiccups along the way.
Despite this, approaching my drinking from the perspective of asking that one worded question ‘why?’ seems to be the starting point to changing my relationship with alcohol. And, funnily enough, I have that one drunken existential crisis to thank for that
