“How many drinks did you have last night?”
It’s an oddly important question. Not “Did you have fun?” Not “Did you enjoy yourself?”, but “How many drinks did you have?” Somewhere between the first pint and the blurry recollection of getting home, alcohol stops being something we consume and becomes something we count. With Freshers’ Week still a slightly hazy memory in our minds, and while I’m still nursing a hangover I don’t think I’ll ever forget, I want to explore why drinking, often to excess, has become a social currency, especially amongst students. With so-called “sober curiosity” on the rise, is there ever a reason to have more than three drinks?
Picture this: it’s Pav Friday, you’ve just finished your last lecture of the week, all your friends are out, and you’re queuing for a drink. You get your first bev to start the night — nothing too heavy, just enough to relax after a long week. The first drink is nothing; everyone has one. You don’t even notice when it’s gone. You’re not drunk, but all of a sudden, the conversations flow a little easier, the music hits harder, and you find yourself in the queue for another. Most people wouldn’t even consider one drink to be “drinking.” Stopping after one is hardly even worth your energy — why even drink if you aren’t getting drunk?
It appears that the line between student culture and drinking culture has become blurred. Somehow, the two have become intertwined so naturally. Whether it be Freshers’ Week, a society event, or even just a relaxed night in, drinking is always present. And I do understand the appeal. All the “liquid courage” gives you the ability to go out and talk to new people, allowing you to make connections without feeling awkward. But is providing young people with a veil that they can hide behind when things get tricky really such a good idea?
It’s so easy to reach for another drink when you’re in an uncomfortable situation but, in my experience, this only ever ends in more harm than good. In the moment, it feels like a good idea. You can almost feel the inhibitions leave your body as the drink enters. But soon enough, you’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had and, all of a sudden, you have no control over what you’re saying anymore. But why is it that we feel pressure to keep on drinking even if we don’t want to? Are you queuing for another drink because you genuinely want one, or do you simply not want to be seen without one?
The drinking culture in Ireland is complicated. We start young and, typically, never really stop. This normalisation of consuming large amounts of alcohol has trickled down through generations and infiltrated our student culture more than people may realise. Asking “How much have you drunk tonight?” allows for the idea that more drinking equals having more fun to become institutionalised in our everyday lives. Drinking more equals having more fun; the drunker you are, the better your night will be. But why is that? Why do we view enjoyment and drunkenness as one and the same?
It is important to note here that this is a completely arbitrary concept that differs from person to person. Someone could have ten drinks and have a terrible night, while another requires just one to have one of the best nights of their life. However, the issue lies in the language we use and how we discuss drunkenness as though it reaffirms the quality of our experiences. Phrases like “I was so drunk last night” or “I can’t even remember how many I had” have become synonymous with “last night was incredible” and “I had so much fun.” Yet, this equation isn’t about personal enjoyment. It’s about drunkenness becoming evidence that the night was successful.
In this sense, the answer to the question “Is there ever a reason to have more than three drinks?” would be yes. Yes, because everyone knew you were drunk. Yes, because you are able to prove how much you can “handle” your drink. Yes, because without your ten drinks you wouldn’t have spoken to that guy, or wouldn’t have woken up with all those drunk messages to your exes (which will never stop being embarrassing).
By the time you hit drink number three, your plan for a quiet night has gone out the window. Alcohol triggers the reward system in your brain. Drinking reminds your brain that it is pleasurable or beneficial, and you are encouraged to have more. But having more doesn’t mean anything when you’re a student. You’re young and in college. Maybe you’ve moved out for the first time in your life and are finally discovering all that life has to offer. Going out doesn’t count; you’re simply living the real college experience. €2.50 vodka on a Wednesday? Sign me up! Free wine in the Phil? Count me in!
These drinks hardly mean anything, you say. “It’s my rite of passage.” We’ll never be this young again, this free from responsibility. If you don’t go out and drink more than three drinks, you’re wasting all the opportunities you worked so hard to earn. However, this kind of expectation places a lot of unnecessary pressure on young people. This culture leads to a large number of students drinking simply because they feel they have to. Because that’s what college is: getting drunk, going out, being permanently hungover.
But why has it suddenly become normalised to drop a week’s wage on a Friday evening? In a cost-of-living crisis, shouldn’t the expectation be on saving your money for something that really counts? That being said, I’m not saying save all your money to buy a house. Still, if the culture of student drinking wasn’t dominated by the expectation of blacking out, we could be saving our money for other things that make up the student experience: Erasmus, lunches, fun experiences. Not everything in college has to be about alcohol.
So, is there ever a reason to have more than three drinks? Of course there is. People drink because they enjoy it. They drink to celebrate, to relax, to socialise, to dance, or simply because they want to. Three isn’t a magic number, and neither is ten. The problem arises when the number of drinks stops being a personal choice and becomes a social expectation. When drinking more becomes proof that you had a good night, that you made the most of college, or that you belong. Maybe the better question isn’t “How many drinks did you have?” but “Did you actually want them?”
University is supposed to be about discovering who you are, not proving how much alcohol you can handle. There are nights worth remembering, and there are nights worth forgetting. But perhaps we shouldn’t need a hangover to prove that we had a good time. Maybe the real art isn’t being seen to be drunk. Maybe it’s becoming comfortable enough to be seen without the drink.
