Wit’s a great feeling when a study by real scientists comes along and confirms something you’ve been saying for years. Researchers from the Behavioral and Health Research Unit at the University of Cambridge (heard of it?!) recommended that the traditional British pint is abandoned in favor of the two-thirds measure.
After a trial in a dozen pubs, bars and restaurants in England, study leader Prof Theresa Marteau concluded that the change – which resulted in almost 10% less beer being sold and consumed – had reduced the impact of can reduce alcohol-related harm.
I’m completely in favor of the idea, but only partly because of the potential benefits to population health. Ever since I moved to the UK in 2017, I’ve felt that the British pint is simply too big to enjoy comfortably. Even if you sip slowly, by the time you reach the bottom, you will inevitably feel sluggish and bloated due to the large amount of fluid you have consumed.
It’s difficult to transport from the bar to the table and the last third is always hot, even if it’s not served that way at the beginning. Then, if you get stuck in a round, you are forced to do it all over again.
It’s no wonder Britain has a problem with alcohol: every time you agree to a quick pint – which, let’s be honest, normally ends in at least two – you’re committing to more than a liter of to take the good.
Of course, you can always get a half, as one friend suggests. She recently switched to it as her standard order, claiming it’s a gamechanger for painlessly moderating your alcohol intake. But I can’t help but feel shortchanged, handing over three quid for a drink that can be downed in two-and-a-half gulps, leaving you waiting for your companion to finish their sample pint to make
The two-thirds pint is the perfect compromise: enough beer to feel like you got your money’s worth, and can relax in the experience – but not so much that it leaves no room in your stomach for anything else.
I developed a preference for the two-thirds pour while living in Sydney, where the “cleaner” is standard. I certainly wouldn’t say that Australia has a more civilized drinking culture than Britain, or less alcohol-related harm: the vast array of measures available (a schooner, a pot, a middy, a handle, a glass ; some varies by state) speaks to beer’s central importance.
But the widespread acceptance of smaller portions, in my experience, has made for a better time at the bar. Coming in at just over two-thirds of a pint, I found the standard 425ml schooner to be the perfect volume of liquid to catch up with a friend, and create a break from your day, but not sending it off the track. Even if you go in for a second, you still drank less than one liter of beer.
Really, when you think about it, 568ml is an obscene amount of liquid to consume in one sitting – and 1136ml even more so. It probably wouldn’t occur to you to drink more than half a liter of coffee, or milkshake, or kombucha at a time. So why is this the norm, in Britain, with beer – and despite the known harm?
I know I’ve looked askance at teenagers chugging from those bucket-sized cans of energy drinks and wondered what all that guarana must be doing to their systems. But with alcohol we know only too well that it is no good. Even moderate drinking is not so harmless as we have been led to believe, with many of those findings achieved through flawed methodology, and sometimes with funding from the alcohol industry.
You could argue, given the increasingly damning research, that reducing the standard measure by a third doesn’t go far enough: we should abstain from alcohol altogether. I don’t foresee Britain ever becoming total – but that doesn’t mean there aren’t changes that can be made to reduce the harm of alcohol without harming the fun.
At the Bear pub in Sheffield, which took part in the Cambridge studypunters generally stuck to two drinks rather than making up the difference with a third, suggesting that it is the two-drink ritual that is important to British drinkers rather than the size of the glass. The experiment suggests that, with a relatively simple adjustment, we can still enjoy the ritual of alcohol while avoiding some of its adverse effects.
The British pint is one of the largest standard portions in the world – larger than those in Australia, Germany and the US. It has been this way since 1698, when a law was passed to prevent publicans from shortchanging their customers with shorter measures. But now we know that more is not always better – especially in the case of alcohol. We may not be willing to stop drinking altogether, but certainly in Australia I’ve been happy to settle for less.
