I didn’t drink alcohol for a whole evening and still felt ill
The «liquid evolution» has piqued my curiosity and filled my glasses with non-alcoholic drinks. What’s a night out like with mocktails and no buzz?
A sober evening enjoying Vienna’s vibrant nightlife – is that possible? It might be a bold question, but it’s a justified one. Especially in Europe, especially in Austria. An average of 11.7 litres of pure alcohol per capita is consumed here each year, which is well above the European average of 9 litres. The good news: overall, per capita consumption of alcohol is declining, especially among children and adolescents. Gen Z consumes 25 per cent less alcohol than I did when I was young in the (early) 2010s. Ooof.
The liquid evolution – is alcohol passé?
The new generation of party-goers whirls through the city with significantly less alcohol in their bloodstream. The trend is known as the «liquid evolution» and is associated with a detox, awareness and fitness culture that tends to stir very high self-optimisation demands in us. But apparently, intoxication isn’t entirely off the menu: generation Z replaces alcohol with other drugs such as amphetamines or cannabis. Cannabis consumption in particular has increased significantly in the last 20 years: whereas only around 8 per cent of young people in Austria used cannabis in the 1990s, today it is between 30 and 40 per cent.
A weekend without alcohol wouldn’t have occurred to me as a teenager. The peer pressure was too great, the desire for loss of control and fun too strong, and the idea of untangling fun and intoxication too hard to grasp. Whether that’s healthier than smoking weed, I don’t know. I now love being in control and don’t find it funny at all when I’m not. Still, it took me until I turned 28 to get into non-alcoholic cocktails.
Mocktails: the sweet lie with a little umbrella
At home, I make cocktails, mojitos and martinis without alcohol. They’re called usually referred to as mocktails or virgin cocktails. To make the refreshing drinks, I buy non-alcoholic spirits and liqueurs, ice cubes and lemons, mint and cane sugar. The look and feel have to be right – after all, I don’t want to inflict too much change on my alcohol-loving guests. Muddle lemon, mint and cane sugar in a glass, then add a dash of mint syrup, ice cubes, water and a little umbrella for decoration – done.
My party crowd are friends with a sense of adventure who are accompanying me on my venture into a teetotal night of partying. They come over in the afternoon. One directly from a night shift, one from the synagogue and one with a child at their breast. Just ten years ago we drank absinthe by the metre without flinching. Today, everyone carefully sips their non-alcoholic drinks and swirls them delicately as if they were trained sommeliers. Their reaction? An educated, appreciative murmur goes through the group. So far, so alright, but the evening doesn’t really pick up speed.
A rush of placebo and sugar
To get some movement into the sleepy crowd, we down the alcohol-free mojitos and make our way to the city centre. Arriving at the first bar, we take a look at the menu, which promises a few non-alcoholic alternatives. As early as 6 p.m., the bar is almost exclusively filled with high-proof spirits – there’s no sign of the liquid evolution. When I ask, the bartender explains that we’re the first customers in a week to opt for the non-alcoholic cocktails. And even the first in my group gives in and orders a beer. 1–0 to Gen Z, touché.
It’s 7 p.m. and I’m dragging my alcohol-addicted friends to the Austrian Museum of Folk Life and Folk Art for a drag performance. I love drag and disguise shows because there’s something inherently magical about them. Nothing breathes a breath of fresh air into a tired group more than glitter, feather boas and men in high heels. I still don’t have a drop of alcohol in me and enjoy the clarity of my thoughts. However, I switched from sugar-sweet mocktails to water because after the seventh refill I started to feel unwell, which I blame on the unusually large amount of sweet drinks.
Alcohol or abstinence, that is the question
At 9 p.m., my group reaches its peak mood-wise. Nobody wants to dance, so we sit down and philosophise, sprinkled with glitter, about the importance of intoxication in a consumer society while smoking.
What does alcohol usually give us on a night out that we’re missing today? Is it courage, self-confidence or blindness? A balance with the world that we can otherwise only achieve with great difficulty? Does alcohol free up a more exciting version of ourselves? 52 per cent of Austrians like non-alcoholic cocktails and mixed drinks – but how does that fit together with my friends, who can’t be at a party for four hours without alcohol? Is that already the liquid evolution? And, if so, will we millennials soon be just a relic preserved in alcohol, weeded out by natural selection?
We like the rush, that much is clear. We usually drink alcohol in large quantities until it clouds our thoughts and loosens our tongues. According to this logic, one or two beers for enjoyment are casting pearls before swine if they don’t immediately catapult us into this state. My impression? It may be true that Austrians like to think about non-alcoholic alternatives from time to time. In bars, clubs and at Viennese sausage stands, however, they celebrate intoxication – at least that’s how it seems.
An open-air verdict
It’s 11 p.m., I’m walking home and collecting my thoughts. The party’s over, but the night is still ahead of me. It’s difficult to draw any smart conclusions here without sounding either like I’m glorifying alcohol or downright boring. The first observation is obvious: if you try to only drink mocktails for an entire evening, you’ll pay a lot of money for slightly more elaborate juices and go home with stomach ache at the end of the evening.
As for the second observation: liquid evolution, yes please. But you don’t actually need special juices in your cocktail glass to have a nice, sober party night. I remember my night without alcohol as really enjoyable, until the sugar made my mouth sticky and I felt heartburn all the way down to the back of my knees. My verdict: mocktails are like family celebrations – a bit tedious but basically quite nice, until it all becomes too much after about three hours.
Sources:
- Horvat, I. et al. (2020): European Drug Report 2020. European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction and the Federal Ministry for Social Affairs, Health, Care and Consumer Protection. Lisbon, Vienna. P. 54
- Federal Ministry of Social Security and Generations (1999): Ausmaß und Entwicklung jugendlichen Drogenkonsums unter besonderer Berücksichtigung von Ecstasy (The Scale and Development of Youth Drug Consumption, with a Particular Focus on Ecstasy). Austrian Institute for Youth Research, Vienna. P. 6
- Bachmayer, S. et al. (2021): Handbuch Alkohol – Österreich (Alcohol Handbook – Austria). Band 1: Statistiken und Berechnungsgrundlagen 2021 (Statistics and Basis for Calculation 2021). Federal Ministry for Social Affairs, Health, Care and Consumer Protection. Ed.: Gesundheit Österreich GmbH, Vienna. P. 3
- Öffentliches Gesundheitsportal Österreich (Public Health Portal Austria) (2020): Handbuch Alkohol zeigt Entwicklungen auf (Alcohol Handbook shows developments). At: www.gesundheit.gv.at. (article in German, last accessed on 20.07.2022).
- Statista (11.07.2022): Survey of alcohol-free spirits in Austria in 2022. At: www.statista.com (article in German, last accessed on 20.07.2022).
I'm a sucker for flowery turns of phrase and allegorical language. Clever metaphors are my Kryptonite – even if, sometimes, it's better to just get to the point. Everything I write is edited by my cat, which I reckon is more «pet humanisation» than metaphor. When I'm not at my desk, I enjoy going hiking, taking part in fireside jamming sessions, dragging my exhausted body out to do some sport and hitting the occasional party.