Talking politics needs booze – and plenty of it
Let's face it: If you were forced into a building filled with as many politicians as the Palace of Westminster contains you'd probably need a drink or two to get by, too.
That is not the sort of comment likely to endear itself to Alcohol Concern, which has conducted a survey of MPs revealing levels of alcohol abuse which it claims would warrant "immediate action" in any other workplace environment.
Parliament is not any other workplace environment. It is a building lubricated by booze and populated by an elite species whose business is eased by alcohol. From red-nosed MPs to their earnest young researchers living the dream, often fresh out of university, a pint or two here or there helps make the wheels go round.
Let's not get carried away here. The truth is the parliamentary drinking culture of yesteryear has died out – literally, in some sad cases. The big shift came when the Commons' sitting hours shifted to more 'normal' working times. Since then there has not been interminably long waits for divisions in the evenings; the gaps between votes are filled meeting crisply-suited lobbyists in the atrium of Portcullis House at 3pm in the afternoon, instead of in the bars or on the terrace with a pint of lager in hand.
This shift towards civilization has diminished, but not eradicated, the problem. For our elected representatives whose constituencies are many hundreds of miles from London, the capital can be a lonely place where they are banished from Monday to Thursday each week. Their cosy family life is put on hold as they are given free rein in parliament. No wonder the bars of Westminster are a tempting place for politicians to spend their time.
It's odd that the proportion of Labour MPs worrying about too many hangovers in Westminster is much higher than the other parties; 31% of opposition MPs wring their hands about the issue, compared to 20% of Conservative and 19% of Liberal Democrat MPs. This may be because of the old Labour guard maintaining a loyal presence in its traditional Westminster watering hole. The Tories' equivalent was converted into a nursery for parliamentary toddlers a few years back.
Westminster has changed. The no-holds-barred hard-drinking culture of yesteryear has evaporated and been replaced with a more family-friendly work ethic. Still, politics is politics: it's a way of life where earnest conversations over a gin and tonic are just as much a part of the working day as meeting grumpy voters in Central Lobby or asking questions in the Commons chamber.
Politics is a talking game. That a quarter of MPs think there is an unhealthy drinking culture in parliament will be, for most of those propping up Westminster's bars, just something else to talk about before necking their next pint.
