Cheers, Santé, Salud, Sláinte, Prost, Kanpao, Skål, Geonbae. No matter the language, you know what it means—it can be a call for celebration, a verbalization of excitement over an accomplishment, an honorific bestowed in anticipation of something good yet to happen, or purely a declarative, announcing that the weekend’s approach quickens. The chant of this sacred phrase is no stranger to our lives on campus. Week in and week out, the halls that breathe life into this short verbiage teem with crowds of students as Gerts Bar, Bar des Arts (BdA), Blues Pub, and 4 à 7 come alive. It matters not whether you yourself partake in a weekly dose of giggle water, or prefer to abstain from such activities—nearly everyone can feel and notice the pull of the drinking culture which haunts McGill’s campus.
It seems naive, however, to suppose that the drinking culture fostered on campus simply exists—that it spawned spontaneously, was created ex nihilo, or emerged from the masses of stressed-out students without cause or intention. This is not to say that social drinking is an abnormal phenomenon; the creation and consumption of alcohol stretches across the annals of human history. Dating back to 7000 BCE, the use of alcohol is common in thousands of cultures. However, this does not mean that McGill’s proud little bars, tightly packed into basements of lecture halls and university buildings, are as innocent as they appear. The Bard's eternal wisdom may prove useful: Something indeed might be rotten in Denmark.
What exactly is it about these spaces that attracts McGillians in sweaty, hungry, thirsty, and sociable droves? What are the forces which make these spaces and events paramount in the social sphere?
For many, the reason for drinking-centred spaces’ preeminence in the campus social markets is that they draw a large attendance. In an interview with The Tribune, Anette Nowakowski, U3 Science, explained that community is a key reason she enjoys BdA. “Way more people are here [at BdA]. You can meet people, new people from many different places, different faculties. It's a great way to socialize, too.”
Indeed, it’s harder to name campus hotspots more conducive to interfaculty exchange and fraternization than our local watering holes. Many think of alcohol as a kind of social drug: One that reduces inhibitions and gets you out on the dance floor, endowing you with the courage to talk to that special someone you haven’t been able to take your eye off. As a suppressant, alcohol achieves its effect by altering the balance of inhibitory and excitatory neurotransmission. Short-term alcohol use increases certain inhibitory neurotransmitters—making our memories foggy and moods swing—and suppresses others, proffering excitatory effects and its famed euphemism of ‘liquid courage.’
Other BdA attendants’ experiences seemed to attest to such biological mechanics. Leah Dube, U3 Arts, told The Tribune, “After a solid hour, I'd say everyone is very friendly.” When asked if she thought alcohol might play a role in this, Dube continued, “I would say that could definitely be true.”
Nowakowski followed this sentiment, “Usually, the people, like the crowd, [have] good vibes. I don't know how [else] to explain it. It's like [they’re all] friends, and [have] good vibes [between them].”
Still, the social dynamics at play seem to motivate attendance as well. Many have known the pains of waiting in excruciatingly long lines for campus bars on the first and last days of ‘the season.’ Others have hoped for admittance when the venues feature special events, only to be met with the cruel reality of exorbitant wait times.
Dube noted, “[Long lines] could have one of two effects. It could be that it is more exclusive, and it adds to the ‘wanting to get in,’ and you're more willing to spend more time in line. Other times, it can lead to giving up before you even try.” She clarified, “If [someone is] on the fence, they're not getting in.”
Pricing, too, certainly contributes to the appeal of campus bars. At most faculty bars, students can purchase a beer at a quarter of the price a local Montreal bar would charge. “I think part of the ‘BdA Thursday’ [that] is important [is that] the cheap drinks make it so you don't spend that much money on alcohol. It's a nice addition to the whole experience,” Nowakowski added.
Although the accessibility and allure of campus drinking culture make it so appealing, the use and misuse of alcohol can facilitate unsafe environments. A 2016 study found that alcohol use may be correlated with increased sexual risk behaviours among university students, such as unprotected sex, which increases the likelihood of human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) and sexually transmitted infection (STI) transmission. A 2015 study also demonstrated that increased alcohol use and misuse among university students are correlated and frequently co-occur with instances of sexual assault. While alcohol is never a cause nor excuse for sexual assault, it is undeniable that it plays a role in facilitating environments where such crimes occur. Because many believe the consumption of alcohol will naturally lead them to irrational, frenzied, and crazed behaviour, it may function to give bad-faith actors an ‘excuse’ to commit these acts. This, combined with alcohol’s hampering of higher-order cognitive processing, inhibition of motor functions, and altered social dynamics amongst peers, increases the likelihood of sexual violence.
Moreover, increased alcohol use can lead to both short-term and long-term health issues. Binge drinking—reaching Binge drinking a blood alcohol concentration of 0.08 per cent, roughly five drinks for men or four for women within two hours—raises the risks of ‘blackouts’ and alcohol overdoses. Patterned binge drinking is also associated with immunocompromisation, damage to the pancreas and liver and other chronic diseases. As a known Group-1 carcinogen, alcohol also poses a risk for cancer development. For people under 25, consumption can impair long-term brain development by causing a decline in grey matter and hindering white matter growth.
Thus, we arrive now at an impasse. Drinking-centred events clearly have something to offer: Fun, socialization, relaxation, and catharsis at quite an affordable cost. In fact, it seems that faculty bars like BdA, by maintaining affordable prices, effectively democratize the social atmospheres of their higher-end counterparts. At the same time, however, the patterned (over)consumption of alcohol has very clear potential dangers—some possibly fatal.
What are we to do? Can these two truths be reconciled with one another?
At such a junction, it can be tempting to point fingers—at individuals, for the act of drinking itself, or at groups like faculty bars, for the promotion of this kind of culture. Neither, however, seems to cut through to the heart of the problem.
Blaming individuals does little to find a solution. At best, it serves as a passive-aggressive reprimand to encourage healthier habits; at worst, it risks alienating those who may silently struggle with addiction, assigning them liability for a disease difficult to mitigate. Having dry campus will not necessarily solve the problem. In Quebec, where virtually every student can legally drink off campus, a prohibition would likely have little effect in discouraging drinking as a whole. Furthermore, while drinking culture may seem highly saturated on campus, data suggest that this may not accurately reflect big-picture drinking trends amongst young adults.
Furthermore, in an interview with The Tribune, Professor Dennis Wendt, director of Cultural and Indigenous Research in Counselling Psychology at McGill, who researches substance and alcohol use, emphasized a decline in drinking habits among young people.
“If you look at the data, and I don't know if it applies to McGill, but in general, young people are drinking less [....] Drinking is down in society, and further, there is now, more recently, a narrative about drinking that is more cautious than it used to be,” he said.
Recent statistics echo this sentiment. A 2023 Statistics Canada survey found that 67 per cent of Canadians aged 18 to 22 reported not having consumed alcohol in the seven days prior to the survey—a higher percentage than other age groups studied. Likewise, only 8 per cent had reported drinking seven or more alcoholic beverages in the last seven days, a percentage nearly twice as low as other age groups. In the same year, a survey conducted by Gallup found that even among Americans aged 18 to 34 who drink regularly, the percentage of those who reported having consumed an alcoholic beverage in the past seven days fell from 67 per cent in 2001 to 61 per cent. Writ large: Regular drinking habits in young people are waning.
Professor Wendt continued, remarking that in his classroom, more and more young people seem to recognize both the hazardous effects of alcohol on health and that the idea that moderate drinking poses no health risks is a myth.
“I know that when I talk about these things in my classes, sometimes I'll say, ‘How many of you have heard that drinking some red wine is good for heart health?’ And a lot of people raise their hands,” he said. “[Then] I say, well, how many people have heard that alcohol is a known carcinogen? [....] When I started doing that about eight years ago, hardly anyone raised their hand, but today, most students do. So that is a shift in awareness.”
Given the data, a campus drinking culture does not seem to be founded on a particular drinking problem with young adults as a whole. Why, then, does drinking culture appear to be so sedimented at McGill? Why does it seem to create a gravitational pull in the social sphere, sucking after-class life deeper and deeper into it? The answer may be far simpler than what fantasy imagines.
Campus drinking culture announces itself everywhere. Posts on social media, of course, are the fastest way this culture is communicated. But what about subtler forms of advertisement? Posters in the bathrooms of the basement of McConnell Engineering—coincidentally next door to Blues Pub-—promote breweries and non-alcoholic Budweiser. Umbrellas at Open Air Pub on Lower Field flaunt beer and hard seltzer logos, signalling that one ought to purchase a drink. Across campus, the same message is delivered, made impossible to ignore.
Drinking culture is so present, persuasive, and forceful at McGill because it is hyper-visible.
In my conversation with Professor Wendt, he stressed that this is not an accident.
“There is [the beer, wine, and spirits] industry here [on campus] that is very interested in you all drinking [....] And I would hope that more college students have a critical eye towards that, just as they do towards all kinds of things.”
The solution to the problem a strong drinking culture imposes is not so simple and clear-cut. Besides potential ineffectiveness, blatant prohibition might produce the opposite effect, encouraging more frequent binge-drinking in environments less safe than what the campus provides. At the same time, it is important to remember that the activities we participate in do not exist in vacuums. There are real risks and potential for harm when such a culture becomes excessive. Companies and executives, too, have much larger stakes in our activities than many would imagine at first blush. Assessing and balancing all of these values is paramount if we wish to reduce harm without succumbing to a kind of moralism that seeks to enforce a strict prohibition on substance use outright and demonize those who participate in it.
In light of these issues, it is imperative to raise the visibility and awareness of non-drinking-centred after-class events. Advertising events that offer fun, socialization, and relief from stress without the variable of alcohol allows individuals to better choose how they wish to spend their time. Simultaneously, promoting these events not specifically as non-drinking alternatives but as enjoyable in and of themselves will help decenter drinking as the ‘norm.’ Moreover, it will broaden the extent of people who can participate in such forms of socialization, no longer excluding those groups that drinking events necessarily do, such as those who cannot drink for religious, health, or other reasons.
Campus drinking culture is neither the devil in disguise nor a sufficient scapegoat onto which we can project all problems. However, this does not imply that it is always innocent. In any case, it is important to be cognizant and aware of how we socialize with one another within a strong drinking culture and the risks contained therein.
