Kennedy’s team, including Administrator for the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services and former TV host Dr. Mehmet Oz, moved toward language that reframes alcohol not strictly as a health hazard, but as something adults might reasonably incorporate into their lifestyles.

Supporters argue this reflects an overdue reset in federal nutrition policy, one that privileges nuance over blanket prohibition and embraces individual responsibility.

But not everyone agrees. Public health researchers have pushed back, pointing to decades of evidence linking even moderate drinking to cancer, liver disease and a host of chronic conditions. A recent analysis underscores how previous guidelines have struggled to balance nuance with clarity, often leaving consumers confused about what “moderate” really means.

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International health bodies, like a British analysis of global alcohol consumption data, show that nations taking stricter stances have seen measurable public‑health gains, complicating the idea that more permissive guidance is inherently “liberating.”

According to HHS, the broader nutrition policy reset aims to reflect emerging science and give Americans more flexible, personalized recommendations. Yet the resulting ambiguity risks reinforcing the very problem the guidelines purport to solve: public distrust of expert guidance.

In a media environment where science itself is politicized, RFK Jr.’s framing of alcohol consumption, part health advice and part personal‑freedom manifesto, underscores how even routine policy announcements can become cultural battlegrounds. Whether that enhances public health, erodes it or simply muddles the conversation further remains an open question.

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Welcome to the patchwork of America's blue laws — restrictions on alcohol sales that vary not just by state, but often by county or even city. Most states repealed their blue laws years ago, but they allow local jurisdictions to set their own rules, which can get confusing.

In Tennessee, for instance, bartenders are prohibited from serving alcohol between 3:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m on Sundays, unless local governments have extended hours. Meanwhile, in Arkansas, 34 of its 75 counties are "dry," meaning the sale of alcohol is prohibited entirely.

Florida, a top tourist destination, allows alcohol sales starting at 7:00 a.m. on Sundays. However, some local ordinances can impose stricter regulations, leading to confusion for visitors.

These laws often clash with the expectations of modern travelers seeking relaxation and recreation. The irony is palpable: In some areas, it's easier to buy fireworks than a bottle of wine on a Sunday.

As summer tourism heats up, perhaps it's time to reevaluate these archaic restrictions that leave both visitors and local businesses parched.

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However, I’d accidentally left the firework upside-down, and instead of exploding upwards it exploded sideways, engulfing me in a whirlwind of brightly-glowing stars. Cries of dismay sounded from the derelict house as the cloud of sparks flooded inside, interrupting the game and burning a small hole in one man’s shirt. The local children, at least, were amused. I was given a stern look and apologized. An hour or two later, more shouts emanated from the house. One of the players, who’d apparently been caught cheating, bolted through the side door, pursued by an angry, drunken mob. 

It's scenes like this that led Bihar to ban booze in 2016. With a population of nearly 130 million – roughly the same as the entire country of Mexico – this single state in India now has the most people living under dry laws than anywhere else on the planet. The parallels with early 20th century Prohibition in America – gangsters, feminists, minorities, corruption, doctor’s notes, speakeasies and moonshine – are strikingly similar.

“People will drink. Who can stop anybody from eating and drinking what they want to?” says Sudha Varghese, founder and director of Nari Gunjan, an NGO devoted to uplifting women in marginalised Bihari communities. “If they’re not producing [alcohol], then they are drinking happily in plenty. They forget whatever restrictions there were. You don’t go to a public place to buy, now it comes to your home.”

Indian drinking culture dates back to earliest recorded history. Toddy, for instance — a sweet, refreshing, vinegar-smelling drink made from the sap of palm trees in southern India — has been known since ancient times. And in the epic tale, the “Ramayana,” the hero Rama indulges in wine with his wife, Sita.

But while Western society is divided by class, race and gender, Hindu society is also divided by an elaborate caste system: there’s castes of merchants, cobblers, jugglers and acrobats, who’re not supposed to mingle or intermarry. On the top are Brahmins, the priestly class; while at the bottom are Dalits, a caste so lowly you’re not even supposed to shake hands with them. The caste you're born into determines the rest of your life, and lower-castes endure daily discrimination in terms of jobs, education and social standing. Over a third of lower-caste Indians are illiterate, compared to roughly a fifth on average. According to Hindu customs, warriors and kings may only imbibe on special occasions, while Brahmins must remain teetotal. The lower you climb down the caste ladder, the more people drink, and for Dalits there are few taboos at all.

Bottles of country liquor being destroyed on March 31, 2016 on the outskirts of Patna, India. (AP Dube/Hindustan Times via Getty Images)

Prohibition is intertwined with the birth of the modern Indian nation itself.

Drinking grew more popular under colonial rule, becoming a rallying point for the independence movement, who boycotted the British-owned liquor industry. Proponents of prohibition argued that drinking culture was alien to India – while that’s debatable, the colonials filled their coffers with the liquor tax and certainly encouraged it. Mahatma Gandhi, who was famously teetotal, saw it as another way for the Man to keep the Brown Brother down.

“If I were appointed dictator for one hour for all India, the first thing I would do would be to close without compensation all the liquor shops [and] destroy all the toddy palms such as I know them,” he once said.

In 1947, India won its independence and Gandhi was assassinated by a Hindu fanatic angry at his outreach to Muslims. In the new nation, prohibition seemed like a shortcut to fix all their social problems. Upper-caste Hindus considered drinking a scourge to be eradicated, and were undeterred by Prohibition’s abject failure in America, a land they considered beyond saving anyway. Dalits, Christians and Parsis (those who practice Zoroastrians, an ancient religion from Persia) argued that drinking was not anathema to them and in fact part of their customs. Furthermore,  most who drank did so occasionally, while hardcore winos would switch to dangerous moonshine. But no one wanted to contradict Gandhi’s memory and so prohibition was enshrined into India’s new constitution, though in practice it was only implemented in a handful of states such as in the great city of Bombay, currently known as Mumbai.

What the naysayers predicted is exactly what happened in the end. Just like the rise of the Mob during American Prohibition, Bombay’s booze ban led to the rise of the powerful Mumbai mafia, whose illicit distilleries in Dharavi, the swampland slum from “Slumdog Millionaire,” churned out hundreds of litres of hooch each night. Distillers threw rotten fruit and molasses waste in the gallon to brew with ammonium chloride to produce something called “snake juice,” which was collected by lepers and taken around the city. 

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Lepers made ideal runners, as the cops didn’t wanna touch them, and if they ever did come close enough to slap on the handcuffs, the lepers were often missing fingerprints (as well as the fingers themselves.) The lepers carried the hooch to speakeasies known as “aunty bars”, often operated by families from Goa, an enclave colonized by the Portuguese and converted to Christianity. The Goans paid monthly protection fees to Bombay’s finest to be left alone and given advance warning of raids. But enforcement was lax anyway, not least because the police themselves liked a tipple.

Not everyone had to chug ghetto grog. Wealthier Indians could afford fancy scotch smuggled by sailors. Since alcohol withdrawal can be fatal, chronic drunkards could show a doctor’s note for a prescription. And the rules didn’t apply to gora (foreigners) either, of course. But in 1963, Bombay lifted prohibition to save “the people from ruining their health by drinking illicit liquor, which was in most cases worse than poison.” 

Bombay’s noble experiment was repeated, and repealed, in several other Indian states.

As was partly the case in America, the charge towards prohibition was led by women’s movements. Women throughout India have long called for liquor bans to reign in their drunken husbands, who squandered all their earnings drinking the toddy bar dry before stumbling home and assaulting them. India is a relatively sober place compared to the West (average alcohol consumption of 4.9 litres per capita, compared to 9.2 in Europe and 7.5 in the Americas), but those who drink tend to get absolutely hammered: according to the WHO, 93% of alcohol consumed in India comes in the form of hard spirits, and drinkers are overwhelmingly men.

Bihar’s anti-alcohol campaign began in the rural village of Konar in 2013 where a group of sixty or so angry women, outraged at seeing their children sipping leftovers which had been left lying around, demanded their local wine shop be closed, and when the owner refused, shut the door with a padlock. The protests spread to other villages, with female vigilantes smashing bottles of naughty water like a desi Carrie Nation.

Bihar is one of India’s poorest states but also has perhaps the greatest women’s participation in politics. The Jeevika organization, which connected women’s groups across the state, mobilized a quarter of Bihari women into calling for alcohol to be outlawed. Courting the female vote, the state’s Chief Minister Nitish Kumar made the dry law a bedrock of his re-election campaign and signed the Bihar Prohibition and Excise Act in 2016.

The policy appeared to have some initial success. Drinking dipped substantially – after three years, by 41% among men and nearly 70% for women – and families had more disposable income: in the first year of prohibition, the sale of saris surged 1,715%. 

According to certain studies, domestic abuse and drunken brawls have become less common. But as we’ve seen, drinking persists.

“Women cannot say that because of the ban there is no domestic abuse,” Sudha shook her head. “I don't see that as a big positive effect of the ban. Maybe one or other of the men who used to drink a lot, come and beat up their wives, [but] those women who were abused for various reasons, they are abused today also.”

Part of the reason is Bihar is surrounded by “wet” states. Bootleggers simply stock up there and drive back, hawking their wares for two or three times the price. Bootlegging attracts youngsters seeking easy money, and the jails are overflowing with small-time bootleggers unable to afford bail, leaving their families behind without breadwinners. Just like the United States, where low income and Black people are disproportionately punished by the war on drugs, which was engineered with racist overtones, so in Bihar the lower-castes suffer more than two-thirds of prohibition arrests. The Dalit community in particular relied on the alcohol trade before the ban, and the lack of opportunities in one of India’s poorest states has left many resorting to bootlegging.

“Producing and selling [alcohol] is the livelihood for very poor people who are landless and assetless, and this is the only option they have to earn their daily food,” Sudha explained. “They are not living in luxury. And the administration, the excise department, they have to show results. Why are people drinking so much? So the department goes raiding and makes life miserable for these people. They beat them up, they will take anything they find in their houses and they collect money from them; extortion.” 

Arrests are also common — mostly men, but some women also. Female runners are particularly prized since they’re less likely to arouse suspicion, strapping bottles beneath their saris. Sudha says people need to be given alternative livelihoods independent of alcohol trafficking.

“But that is not a priority for the government. They have no skill to go into another livelihood, they have no capital to do that,” Sudha said. “They are helpless. You catch them, beat them, take them to jail. They are rotting there, nobody is there to help them with legal aid. So what about their human rights, their right to live with dignity? And who is benefiting from this ban on liquor? I think it is only the police benefiting from it.”

Bootlegging is enabled by the overstretched police force and crooked cops taking payoffs from the booze racket. In November, Bihar’s prohibition was sharply criticized by a judge, who ruled it was little more than a racket for cops to shake down bootleggers at the expense of the poor, who languish in prison while kingpins watch the money roll in. 

Given the scale of corruption, opposition leaders and local conspiracy theorists have accused Chief Minister Kumar of deliberately passing the law to profit the booze barons – the classic bootleggers and Baptists scenario, in which both law-abiding moralists and amoral racketeers benefit from prohibition. During Kumar’s previous term he’d actually loosened restrictions in the state, doubling the number of liquor stores before suddenly closing them all when it became politically expedient. So what happened to all that demand, his critics ponder.

According to the latest survey from the Ministry of Health, roughly 17% of men continue to drink. That’s the portion willing to admit it, at least – the real number could be far higher. But there are similar levels of drinking in neighboring Uttar Pradesh, a wet state, throwing the necessity of prohibition into question.

“There are two categories of people after the ban,” explained Dr Abhitesh Tripathi, who runs a clinic in northwest Bihar. “The rich people who can afford the high price of [imported] liquor that is available to them by some illegal means. And the second category are very marginalized and poor people who are drinking country liquor which is produced in the villages. The problem is that liquor is not regulated and the production is [substandard.] The original alcohol content is ethanol, but the country liquor contains methanol and the people who survive that may be left with lifelong blindness and other injury like liver damage.”

Country liquor, or moonshine, is made from mahua fruits fermented with sugar then occasionally mixed with cheap methyl alcohol. Brewers often check the quality by seeing if it catches fire – if it lights, it’s alright! Mass poisonings are not uncommon, and victims are so scared of arrest they don’t call for help. 

“Even though [prohibition] has not been very successful, they are not going to accept it and take it back because it’s become a matter of pride,” said Dr Tripathi.

Sounds familiar.

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In recent years, the challenge has become a way of life. Abandoning alcohol no longer seems to be a one-month-long endeavor but, rather, a lifestyle that has increasingly been embraced by younger consumers.

A Gallup poll from August 2024 found that 65% of U.S. adults aged 18 to 34 said alcohol consumption negatively affects one’s health. In comparison, 37% of those aged 35 to 54 and 39% of those aged 55 and older expressed similar sentiments. According to data obtained from the July 1-21 Consumption Habits poll, an astounding 45% of Americans say drinking one or two alcoholic beverages per day is bad for one’s health. That statistic is a six-point increase from 2023 and a 17-point increase from 2018.

“Between 2001 and 2018, Americans were much more likely to believe moderate drinking does not affect overall health than to say it has a negative or positive effect,” the poll specified. “Despite a period from the 1990s through the early 2000s when medical research suggested drinking red wine can be beneficial, no more than 25% of U.S. adults have ever seen drinking as good for one’s health.”

In the poll, over 50% of Americans also said the best health advice for those who drink an average amount of alcohol is to reduce their consumption, while 22% said such drinkers should completely cut out alcohol. Only 17% of adults said continuing to drink an average amount is the best advice.

Indeed, fewer people are consuming alcohol and major booze companies have caught on. Major brewers, including Molson Coors and Anheuser-Busch InBev, and spirit companies, like Diageo and Pernod Ricard, have released new non-alcoholic drink options to lure a greater number of consumers who are going sober, CNN’s Jordan Valinsky reported.

“Beer will always be at the heart of what we do, but we know there’s an enormous opportunity with non-alc and that’s why we’ve committed to making it an important part of our business,” Kevin Nitz, vice president of non-alcohol products at Molson Coors Beverage Company said in a 2023 blog post.

The company has since launched zero-sugar energy drinks and non-alcoholic beers like Peroni 0.0. This year, it’s introducing a booze-free Australian canned cocktail alternative called Naked Life to the U.S. The “mocktails” will be available in five different flavors: Mojito, Negroni Spritz, Gin and Tonic, Cosmo and Margarita.

“Consumers want more than just an alternative. They want a sophisticated, great-tasting option that aligns with their lifestyle,” Nitz said in a statement. “Naked Life provides a high-quality non-alc cocktail, delivering an experience of the best alc based versions.”

Anheuser-Busch InBev has also dipped its toes into the non-alcoholic drinks sector with Budweiser Zero, Stella Artois 0.0, O’Doul’s, Corona Cero and Michelob Ultra Zero, which was introduced in September. As for spirits, Diageo purchased Ritual Zero Proof, the world’s top-selling non-alcoholic spirits brand, in September. And Pernod Ricard launched a non-alcoholic version of gin, along with Cinzano Spritz 0% and Ceder’s, a gin-like non-alcoholic beverage with botanical notes of juniper, rooibos and buchu.

The non-alcoholic beverage market is expected to grow considerably in the near future, per statistics. In 2023, the market size was valued at $1,077.35 billion and is slated to grow from $1,169.57 billion in 2024 to $2,040.83 billion by 2032, SkyQuest Technology, a market research firm, reported.

2025 could possibly be the year that more people abandon alcohol for good, especially after Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy called for a cancer risk warning label on alcoholic beverages on January 3. Key data from the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services has shown that consuming alcohol increases the risk of developing at least seven types of cancer. Alcohol-related cancer risk also differs between men and women. Approximately 22% of women would develop cancer due to consuming two drinks per day. For men, that percentage is 13.1%.

Although there’s a thirst for more non-alcoholic beverages, consumers are craving sophisticated and elevated drinks that push the boundaries of a simple juice-and-soda mixed drink. That’s according to Vanessa Royle and Mariah Hilton Wood, co-founders of Tilden, a social, non-alcoholic beverage company.

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“I think we're going to see bar and restaurant [non-alcoholic] menus get a lot better,” Royle told Salon. “Last year, it felt like everywhere I went had a non-alc menu. Many of them were still soda water, lemonade and Diet Coke. I feel like we're in the midst of this realization that [non-alc drinks] have to be thoughtful. And actually, if you create something thoughtful and charge more for it, people will pay for it because they want that.”

“We often talk about it in terms of occasion — instead of drinkers and non-drinkers,” Hilton Wood added. “This year, I foresee the share of drinking occasions that include alcohol shrinking and being replaced by non-alcoholic beverages."

“We want to drink. And I think in the past, more of those drinks would have just been alcoholic drinks, because that's what was available,” she added. “And people just didn't think that there was another option. But as we become more aware that non-alcohol options are great, I think a lot of those — like, not-quite-drinking-moments — are going to be filled in with the non-alc options.”

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“Mondays Light” will be featured on limited-time, 12-can packaging of beers, TODAY reported. The beers will be available for purchase at retailers nationwide.

The latest marketing tactic comes after the beer company misspelled the tagline “Mountain Cold Refreshment” as “Mountain Cold Refershment” in print advertisements and a Times Square billboard. Coors Light thanked fans who called out the typo, but later revealed that the typo was intentional.

“Let's face it: the Monday after the Big Game takes ‘Case of the Mondays’ to a whole new level,” Marcelo Pascoa, Vice President of Marketing at Coors Light, said in a press release. “So, we thought, why not turn that classic ‘Case of the Mondays’ into a literal case of Coors Light? Mondays Light is our way of reminding fans to Choose Chill on one of the worst Mondays of the year.”

Coors Light will also be airing a 30-second Super Bowl commercial for the third year in a row. The brand said specific campaign details will be revealed in the weeks leading up to the game.

Additionally, fans will have a chance to win a case of “Mondays Light” shortly after this year’s Super Bowl.

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The gateway drug theory and many other ideas about drug use have been put into question in recent years as more resources are dedicated to understanding substance use, which has been highly stigmatized for decades. After initially labeling cannabis as a gateway drug in 2010, President Joe Biden even later walked back his stance, saying in 2019: “I don’t think it is a gateway drug. There’s no evidence I’ve seen to suggest that.”

The roots of substance use disorder are complex and not fully understood, but one of the hallmarks of addiction is understood to be caused by repeated drug use that neurologically changes the brain. Because the use of one substance like alcohol or nicotine is associated with the use of other drugs like cannabis, many have drawn causal links between the use of various drugs in theories like the gateway drug hypothesis. However, this idea has been highly debated, and as the understanding of substance use has improved, scientists began to understand that people may have a “common liability” to substances in general and that drug use is influenced by a host of factors.

A new study published late December analyzed brain scans of adolescents before and after they first tried alcohol, nicotine or cannabis, shedding light on one factor that could be influencing whether people decide to start using drugs. Writing in JAMA Network Open, Dr. Alex Miller, the study’s lead author and an assistant professor of psychiatry at Indiana University School of Medicine, and his team found that adolescents who initiated substance use had differences in certain brain structures compared to kids who didn’t use drugs. Importantly, most differences existed before they started using alcohol, nicotine or cannabis.

“The study sort of helps us highlight which regions may be important to further explore, with respect to their association as pre-existing risk factors for substance use initiation,” Miller told Salon in a phone interview. 

Structural brain differences have been previously found in people who use drugs and were assumed to be effects of drug use, said Dr. Jonathan Foulds, a professor of public health sciences at Penn State College of Medicine who was not involved in the study. This study shows certain differences were there among adolescents who used substances prior to use, meaning they could not have been caused by the substance use, he said.

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“Our behavior is determined basically by our brain and our experience, and our experience can affect our brain as well,” Foulds told Salon in a phone interview. This study "casts doubt on some of the prior gateway theories because it seems like many of the same brain differences that are a risk factor for nicotine use are also a risk factor for alcohol and cannabis use.”

The differences observed in the study were small but statistically significant within a large sample size close to 10,000 participants, Miller said. Specifically, those who initiated these substances before age 15 had larger overall brains and a thinner prefrontal cortex in certain regions compared to kids who didn’t initiate drug use. The prefrontal cortex is responsible for things like decision making and information processing, and some research has found that a thinner prefrontal cortex is associated with more impulsive behavior and risky decision making, which could be linked to kids initiating substance use, Miller said. 

On the other hand, some of the measures observed in this study went in the opposite direction to what is observed in brain scans of people who have substance use disorder. For example, heavy drug use has been linked to smaller overall brain sizes, and heavy cannabis consumption has been linked to smaller hippocampal volumes. In this study, substance use was linked to larger overall brain sizes and larger hippocampal volumes.

Importantly, this doesn’t mean that children with these differences in anatomy will inevitably go on to try drugs, said Dr. Bertha Madras, a psychobiology professor at Harvard Medical School, who was not involved with the study either. There are dozens of risk factors that influence whether kids use drugs, including genetics, accessibility to substances, and the prenatal environment. 

It may be that some other factor is influencing the anatomical differences and drug use, like a predisposition to risky behaviors or teens’ perception of how harmful substance use is, Madras.

“Integrating the whole picture would give us a much better view of what the risk factors for using drugs are and what the risk factors that are consequent to drug use are,” Madras told Salon in a phone interview.

This analysis uses data from the Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development Study, which was designed to follow a large group of children over many years to help determine the neurological origins and consequences of substance use. Miller said he plans to use the data to try and tease out what is behind these brain differences and whether they are due to genetics or potential environmental risk factors. 

In October, another study using the ABCD dataset found that certain brain activity in childhood could predict substance use initiation and that this was associated with children’s exposure to pollution.

“Understanding the complex interplay between the factors that contribute and that protect against drug use is crucial for informing effective prevention interventions and providing support for those who may be most vulnerable,” said Dr. Nora Volkow, the director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse in a press release.

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That’s why one day in mid-November, she decided to stop drinking for a year.

“I was drinking with some friends and just felt like crap the next day,” Gemmell told Salon in a phone interview. “I was like, ‘I’m done with this.’”

Gemmell is part of a growing “sober curious” movement, which promotes a more conscientious approach to drinking where people set intentions about how much and when they drink, if at all. Although “Dry January," “Sober October,” and other temporary abstinence trends come and go each year, the sober curious movement continues to grow. The movement has been around for about a decade but has recently grown more popular on social media, with influencers featuring it in their videos and the titular character of “Emily in Paris” even highlighting it on the latest season.

“The sober curious movement, which is about individual empowerment, is the first grassroots cultural movement of its kind,” said Ruby Warrington, whose book “Sober Curious” is credited with bringing the idea to the mainstream. “This is the beginning of a cultural shift when it comes to the role alcohol plays in society, similar to what we have seen with smoking.”

Anyone can be sober curious, but some data suggests it is particularly popular among younger people. A 2020 study in JAMA Pediatrics found that the proportion of college students abstaining from alcohol rose from 20% to 28% between 2002 and 2018. In a 2023 Gallup poll, the portion of respondents under age 35 who drank declined 10% from the prior year and was lower than the national average.

“Gen Z has been fueling this movement toward a lot of things,” said Melise Panetta, a marketing lecturer at Wilfrid Laurier University in Canada. “One is being physically and mentally well — and not drinking is part of that for them.”

Research has found that the earlier people start drinking alcohol, the higher the odds of developing an alcohol use disorder later in life. Younger people may be drinking less alcohol because they have been exposed to so much information online at a young age and are more aware of its negative effects on health, Panetta said.

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“I liken it a little bit to the cigarette industry and how it evolved,” Panetta told Salon in a phone call. “You’re seeing similar trends with a lot of peer pressure back in the day, no networks for folks who really wanted to quit, and then that completely turned on its head … I think this is going to follow a similar path.”

Abstaining from alcohol even temporarily has shown to have health benefits. One 2016 study of participants who participated in “Dry January” said it improved their sleep. Another study in 2018 found people who abstained from alcohol had improved insulin sensitivity and blood pressure compared to a control group. And a study published earlier this year showed the brain could recover damage done to the cortex, the outer layer of the brain responsible for memory and problem solving, after about seven months of abstinence among people with alcohol use disorder.  

Alcohol abstinence may also reduce anxiety and depression, although many people drink alcohol as a way to cope with life’s stressors, said Dr. Marisa Silveri, the director of the Neurodevelopmental Laboratory on Addictions and Mental Health at McLean Hospital. Like any drug, it comes down to the dose and frequency of use. Light and moderate drinking may actually reduce stress, but the question remains if the positive benefits of booze are outweighed by the impacts it can have on the liver, gut and brain.

“Neurobiologically, if you drink, during the period of actually being intoxicated, there is some relief because there are changes in neurochemicals that relate to depression and anxiety,” Silveri told Salon in a phone interview. “But the moment alcohol goes out of your system, all of those things come right back, and they actually come back to a worse degree.”

Some evidence suggests an increasing number of people are substituting alcohol for cannabis — which is referred to as being “California sober.” In the federally funded Monitoring the Future survey, the proportion of respondents between ages 19 and 30 using cannabis has trended upward since it began in 1995, whereas alcohol use has trended downward. Among college students, the proportion who drank alcohol dropped by about 5% between 2023 and 2022, whereas cannabis use increased by about 5%.

“Many CBD and THC edibles are marketed as being alcohol replacements too,” Warrington said.

Some people who have alcohol use disorder might not be able to approach the substance with “curiosity,” and might prefer abstinence-only models or other treatment. But the sober curious movement is also growing alongside a deeper understanding of how drug and alcohol use works. After decades of touting abstinence-only initiatives that have failed to curb the overdose crisis and serve the 17 million U.S. adults who are alcohol dependent, drug policies are showing an increased acceptance of harm reduction strategies that meet people where they are and provide them with resources — understanding that complete abstinence might not be possible or desired.

Although there is still a long way to go to reduce the stigma around mental health and drug use, things have improved and those stigmas are at least now a part of the conversation, Silveri said. The drinking culture is experiencing a shift as well: Drinks are referred to as being “alcohol-free” instead of “nonalcoholic,” mocktails are becoming more commonplace on menus, and dry bars that don’t serve alcohol are popping up across the country.

“Mental health stigma is kind of a conversation now, where people can be outwardly talking about depression or anxiety,” Silveri said. “A lot of this has to do with social norms that reduce stigma around abstaining from alcohol.”

Gemmell has replaced nights out with friends with breakfast dates or lunches, and some of her closest friends are also abstaining from alcohol, which helps the social transition, she said. 

“I am also learning that maybe I have some friends who are just drinking buddies or maybe we just got along because we got drinks together,” Gemmell said. “I’m kind of seeing how those friendships are playing out through this process.”

For her, alcohol was getting in the way of the intentions she has for the year to come, like moving her body and working out consistently to feel better throughout the week.

“[The idea] that we need alcohol to have fun is really dated,” Gemmell said. “I’m glad we are having this shift toward being fully present and feeling good.”

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In a press release, Dunkin' announced the arrival of Dunkin' Spiked, "a buzz-worthy twist on a quintessential fall classic and Dunkin's highly anticipated seasonal offering: the Pumpkin Spice Latte." The product will be sold in "grocery and package store across 27 states" and is a "rich, creamy and deliciously decadent drink with the perfect balance of sweet pumpkin, vanilla and fall spice flavors" in a "ready-to-drink format, allowing consumers to party with the taste of fall all season long."

“As one of our most highly anticipated seasonal offerings, Pumpkin Spice Latte has become a staple amid everyone’s favorite cozy season," Brian Gilbert, Vice President of Retail Business Development, said. "Recognizing this, we knew we had an opportunity to create something special with an adult twist on the beloved beverage."

The Dunkin' Spiced PSL has 6% ABV and is "crafted with real coffee, pumpkin spice flavor and a non-dairy creamer that is both vegan and lactose-intolerant friendly." You can check www.dunkinspiked.com if you're looking to find a store nearby with the product in stock. The line originally launched in the Northeast to great acclaim last August and the PSL flavor is the latest addition.

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Conventional wisdom for the last several decades, based on earlier research, has held that drinking moderately — on the order of four or five alcoholic drinks a week for adults — has some health benefits and may even be associated with longer lifespans. But that view has increasingly come into doubt, and scientists who examined 107 published studies on alcohol use and health now report that many of those included a key methodological error, one that seriously undermined their conclusions.

These studies focused on older adults in an effort to demonstrate a link between alcohol and longevity, the researchers report, and many such studies did not distinguish between adults who now drink moderately, but previously drank little or not at all, and those who now drink moderately after a lifetime of potentially damaging drinking habits. This difference, researchers claim, is crucial: "Lower quality" studies that did not ask self-described moderate drinkers about their previous drinking habits appeared to show that drinking was connected to a longer lifespan, whereas "higher quality" studies that controlled for subjects' past drinking histories did not show any such correlation.

Those higher-quality studies also had a mean cohort age of 55 years or younger and followed up with their subjects past age 55, adding to their methodological rigor. The 107 studies reviewed by the authors covered the experiences of 4,838,825 participants, including 425,564 recorded deaths. 

“If you look at the weakest studies, that’s where you see health benefits.” lead researcher Tim Stockwell, a scientist with the Canadian Institute for Substance Use Research at the University of Victoria, said in a statement.

Widespread misconceptions that limited or moderate alcohol use is healthy could be harmful, the researchers argue.

"Studies with life-time selection biases may create misleading positive health associations," the authors write. "These biases pervade the field of alcohol epidemiology and can confuse communications about health risks."

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Last month, he seemingly changed his tune again, telling Sean Hannity that he "didn't want to be in the party of cancel cultures and boycotts that ultimately hurt working-class people.” and that "as a God-fearing man, as a Christian, I have to believe in forgiveness. They made a mistake, all right. What do you want, hold their head under water and drown them and kill people's jobs? I don't want to do that.” 

Now, in a recent appearance on Tucker Carlson's show on X, formerly Twitter, Kid Rock said that "Bud Light deserved a black eye and they got one," before continuing his stepping back, saying "Do I want to hold their head underwater and drown them because they made a mistake? No, I think they got the message."

Jordan Valinsky reports for CNN that Bud Light sales are still down about 30%. As Salon's Ashlie Stevens wrote last month, Benoit Garbe — the US chief marketing officer — is also resigning from Anheuser-Busch at the end of this year. 

The post “I think they got the message”: Kid Rock talks Bud Light boycott with Tucker Carlson appeared first on Salon.com.

Maja is my first cousin’s first cousin. In Baltimore, that means we’re close family. My dad's sister married her dad's brother, ultimately connecting us. A popular bartender, Maja created the most beautiful drinks anyone has ever seen or tasted in some of Baltimore’s fanciest restaurants.

“A MajTail,” I laughed, sipping the ginger-heavy citrus concoction she slid in my direction. “I’m in it for the long haul, cuz.”  

Fifteen years my junior, Maja, or Maj, has always been a dreamer. She has two big sleepy eyes that dominate her face and pair perfectly with her Zen-like demeanor. Many of the younger people in our family opted for traditional nine-to-fives or the streets, but she worked to make a name for herself in the art world, gaining an impeccable reputation for her drawings and paintings. The street guys and the nine-to-fivers have a lot to talk about with each other, but rarely share community with Maja’s artsy crowd. Our paths almost never collided until I joined the art world she knew so well, and began to see her at parties, and frequent places she worked, like The Charleston, Alma Cocina and Bloom's, where I would eat the most delicious food in the city and have the luxury of washing it down with her beautiful craft cocktail creations, with my wife and friends at my side. 

“You always have fun, even when y’all not drinking or before y'all’s drinks come out,” Maja said. “So just have fun — focus on that.” 

I love alcohol: the smell, the taste, the way it makes me feel. There’s something about sipping from a bottle or glass of warm confidence that just feels right. I’ve known this since I was a child — 10 years old, to be precise. 

One day, my cousin Lo begged me to go with him to see his estranged mother, who had recently won a long battle with addiction.

“I bought you something, baby,” she said, her veiny hands gripping a crumpled paper bag. “I didn’t forget you.” 

“The Colt 45 kind?” Lo guessed, his eyes watering as he snatched the bag. “Thank you, Mom!” 

Lo guzzled, then passed the can to me. I took a slow sip: like soda, but not as sweet, or even joyous at all, I thought. The aftertaste of Colt 45, a malt liquor that was as dangerous as it was popular, crumpled my face to match the bag that concealed the can. “Yuck!” 

The drink tasted so bad, but it felt so right. Imagine a cactus with milk so sweet, it’s worth the thorns. We laughed hysterically at my childish reaction, even though I was a child. I took another swig, shot another frown and passed the can back to Lo, who happily gulped. I knew my mom would have killed me if she found out, so I swore off liquor until it revisited me in 7th grade. 

Hawk rocked a monochromatic blue Coogi, so we wore monochromatic blue Coogis. Hawk never tied his New Balance; he purposely left the laces undone, so you’d never see a bow on our shoes either. Hawk sat drunk in the project stairwell, gripping a bottle of Absolut vodka, so when he passed it to me, I was all in. 

And I sipped, tripped and fell in love with that vodka. Booze and I became inseparable in the years that followed. It became a part of my identity: The fun guy with the drinks on deck. 

Alcohol is a depressant, scientifically speaking. But there seemed to be nothing depressing about grabbing a drink before the function, grabbing a drink at the function, and grabbing a drink after the function. There was always a reason to grab a drink with a friend. We would even grab a drink at the bar just to figure out where we should go on to grab drinks.

This lifestyle delivered so many glorious memories, nights and people I only remember in flashes. A life that I enjoyed and even bragged about, all the way up until my doctor delivered a reality check, recommending I eighty-six salty food — there goes fine dining — and go cold turkey off the booze for a while (goodbye, craft cocktails) so that we could regulate my rising blood pressure. 

Here’s what I learned during my first booze-free week after three decades of regular drinking: Liquor makes mediocre restaurant food taste like fine dining — the only ingredient better at enhancing flavors than salt. Ordering it also makes that dinner much more expensive. Everyone around me in the restaurant is also louder and sweatier, it seems, when I’m sober. And my sobriety makes other people uncomfortable, too. They poke at me, question my health, and ignore everything except what is — or isn’t — inside my glass.

* * *

“A yoooo, D Watk a weirdo! Man, oh man, aye aye, Watk lost his got dammed mind! What in the —” screamed a small woman with long braids growing out of the back of an oversized Oriole cap.  

A couple of months after the doctor told me to start eating cleaner and stop drinking for a while, an Uber dropped me off at this restaurant around 9:15, where I was greeted by thunderous applause. It kind of felt like a surprise party, except none of my close friends were there. These were casual business acquaintances, loose ties, strangers. I was being honored for my work with kids in schools. 

A young woman in a sparkly dress presented me with a framed certificate and a microphone. To my right, a DJ saluted from his booth. To my left, well-dressed educators and tastemakers eagerly awaited my words. In front of me, a packed restaurant of people ate and drank, some glancing over at me like, Who in the hell is this guy? 

I made my remarks and went over to the organizer’s table. Before I could sit, one of those tastemakers presented me with a long, luxurious brown box containing the premium tequila brand sponsor for the night’s event. 

Then four bottle girls arrived, placing four empty shot glasses in front of my face. One of the bottle girls had said, “For the man of the hour,” with a wink, filling each of the glasses in front of me with tequila until they all overflowed. The look and smell of the liquid made my head throb. 

“I have to run and wash my hands,” I told the table as they began knocking their drinks back. I cut through the crowd and entered the restroom. A walking and breathing mess stared back at me in the mirror. 

After making it through the first few weeks of my doctor-recommended sobriety, I decided to indulge a little on a family visit to Paris I had booked a few months before the physician gave me the sad news. I stuck to my guns, not touching a drop until our feet were planted on European land, and I had decided to continue my alcohol-free mission when we returned to the States. I had felt great about my choices until I was presented with that tall bottle of tequila and poured those four shots that seemed to be screaming my name. I can beat this too, I told myself. 

I splashed water on my face and exited the restroom. The educators were in full turn-up mode, iPhone filming and dancing. My shots waited patiently for me. 

I wondered what Maj would do. Maybe I should order a MajTail, I thought.

If I walked a big mocktail over to my table, I reasoned, people wouldn’t be paying attention to the fact that I was not downing those shots. 

“I’m working, on the clock, not really drinking,” I said to the bartender, a slim dude with a thinning fro. “Can you make me a mocktail?” 

“Sure, brother,” the bartender answered. “Any particular taste in mind?” 

Enter the walking Oriole cap. 

“A yoooo D Watk a weirdo! Man, oh man, Watk lost his got dammed mind! What in the—” screamed that small woman with the long braids growing out of the back of her oversized Oriole hat.

Every patron in the joint laid eyes on us at the same time, it seemed. To my surprise, others jumped in to defend me, saying things like, “Everybody can’t be an alcoholic like you, girl,” and “Don’t play with D like that!” 

Eventually, I made it back to my table, where I was greeted by another person who recently started his own wine company and wanted me to taste every flavor. Well, it’s wine, I thought, and I’m kind of sophisticated, I thought, and I just came back from Paris, I thought, so passing on this offer would be a great disservice to that young entrepreneur and the community, is what I landed on. 

I drank glass after glass, holding the bottle — bottles — making sure the women in the large cap saw me consuming enough wine to collapse an elephant. Who’s the weirdo now? 

Me, apparently, because alcohol won the battle that night. Even though I didn't take the tequila shots, I was still as drunk as a trust fund frat boy by the time I left. 

The more I reflected on that evening, the more I became bothered by things I failed to recognize or wish I would have considered in the moment. 

I don't owe these people anything, so why should their opinions force me into becoming wine-drunk? Do I lack self-control? 

I have never had the level of clarity I gained in the short sober time I had before Paris. So why would I quickly throw that away to please a bunch of strangers at a function? 

I have no idea who that little woman lost in that big-ass baseball cap was, so why would I care about her insults?

Was I drinking for me or because Maj had been found dead in her apartment a week before I left for Paris? 

And I realized that I would never be able to ask her what would she do again. I will never be able to roll into a bar and see her face, be eased by her pleasant energy and taste one of her creations ever again. Was alcohol not the fun juice I always thought it was? Thinking about Maj, it was starting to feel every bit like a depressant. 

* * *

Alcohol is one of the leading preventable causes of death in the U.S., according to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism. More than 140,000 deaths each year are estimated to be attributed to excessive drinking. It remains an urgent, life-or-death problem for many. Perhaps a growing awareness of that is why more people are being proactive about monitoring their consumption, even before it becomes a medical necessity or a chemical dependency. 

An explosion of new non-alcoholic adult drink brands shows there’s a market that still wants the feeling of going for a drink without the effects. Some people are avoiding alcohol, or just cutting back, to be more health conscious. Gen Z is drinking less than millennials and Gen Xers. And it feels much more common now — thanks in part to events like Dry January and Sober October — to take temporary breaks from drinking without the stigma attached to “falling off the wagon.” For some, mindful moderation — rather than an all-or-nothing approach — is now part of an aspirational lifestyle. 

For deeper insights into the source of my feelings about drinking and abstaining from a person who has taken the sober journey from inside — or rather, behind — the bar, I reached out to the first mixologist I ever met, Andre “Dre” Barnhill. Dre has been a star on the emerging cocktail scene in Baltimore over the past decade. He's held prominent positions at award-winning establishments like Woodberry Kitchen, and runs Clavel, one of the hottest Mezcal bars in our region. Dre was sober for two years, but recently decided to have an occasional cocktail. 

Dre is a relatively smooth fellow, always laid-back, never too visibly excited. He’s also the bartender who introduced me to what became my signature cocktail, the vodka gimlet. 

"A yo, I am traveling a little bit right now for these readings," I asked Dre one slow night at his bar. "And I'm struggling to find one go-to drink that any bartender can make, even me." 

"I noticed that you are a citrus guy,” Dre said. “So, a gimlet." 

Gin hasn’t been kind to me over the years. But Dre helped me fall in love with the smooth, clean taste of vodka gimlets. And during that time, Dre fell out of love with alcohol and the way it made him feel, so he decided to go on a hiatus. 

I reminded Dre that I did not remember him being the heaviest drinker before he took his pause––maybe a shot or two during a shift. But then I realized that he would normally be at work when I saw him, and I was coming into his bars with my own agenda, to ingurgitate as much booze and fried food as humanly possible. 

“You have to consider the lifestyle, especially 1:30 to 4 a.m.,” Dre explained. “Shutting the bar down and drinking over a period of time, it adds up.” 

I thought of how it would feel to work in a bar five days a week, and how that environment could easily transform a casual drinker into a person who consumes alcohol every day as part of their routine. 

“And then there's the social aspect that comes with being a bartender in the city,” Dre continued. “Bartenders, we love each other, so when we go out, we are always sending each other shots. And you have to take them because turning a gift down is rude.” 

Here’s an insidious thing about alcohol and stigma: It’s wrapped up in class issues. 

I imagined Dre bar hopping with his high-end craft cocktail crew: A diverse, stylish bunch wearing wool coats, high-quality loafers and cropped denims. I imagined Hawk mixing in with his bottle of vodka blue Coogi sweater, instantly changing the mood. When experimenting with vodka cocktails with Dre and his friends, I’m progressive, approachable; a good brother, not an addict. But if I were drinking the same vodka in the projects with Hawk, I’m a gangster or a bum — the world would see me as an addict. The stigma. 

The stigma around drinking is something that bartender Ashley Mac has learned to deal with on many levels. 

“I do not like the word mocktail. To mock is to make fun of, or to do a dry run, of something,” Ashley Mac, the vice president of the Baltimore Bartenders Guild known as AMAC in the hospitality world, told me. “My sobriety is not a dry run or a joke to me. It's like a personal thing. I wouldn't use the word mocktail––spirit-free, zero-proof or nonalcoholic cocktails is what I tend to lean towards.” 

AMAC — who also goes by “The Sober Tender” — is also program director for HEARD, a mental health-focused nonprofit for people in the hospitality industry. She has been sober for seven years and counting. But she didn’t leave bartending — a job she wanted since childhood — when she stopped drinking.

“I always wanted to be a bartender, ever since my parents took me to a Ruby Tuesday's back when I was a child,” AMAC said with a laugh. “The bartender ran the show, was the life of the party. And I wanted that so bad.”

AMAC got her first restaurant job at 15 and flourished professionally in the bar industry. But participating in the drinking culture that can come with working in bars took a heavy toll. She describes herself as “a late-stage alcoholic” by age 29. She even died once during withdrawal.

“I was out for 30 seconds. The next thing I remember was waking up in the back of an ambulance, and then ICU for eight days,” she said. “It was 13 days before I was discharged and off to rehab for three and a half months. I was 89 pounds when this all happened.”

AMAC returned home with major medical debt from the hospital and rehab. She had only been employed in the restaurant industry and didn’t know what she was going to do for money. So AMAC went back to bartending. 

Liquor is not my business. But so much of my business as a writer revolves around it — I call it let’s go grab a drink culture. I met my managers over a drink. Some of my first agents signed me after a drink or 10. I’ve done shots with lawyers and television executives. What would my career look like without it? Would I have been thought of a certain way if I had refused those drinks, or insisted we meet up for tea or sodas instead? 

I told AMAC about the time I tried to secretly order a mocktail at that tequila-sponsored educators’ award event. 

“That’s horrible,” she said. “I do some contract work for a bourbon company, and I don't tell people I'm sober when I'm trying to sell them bourbon.”  

“I have oftentimes been told as a bartender, I don't want you to make my drink if you're sober,” she continued. “How do you know what it tastes like? Or, I don't trust you as a bartender because you're sober.” 

Despite some of the negative experiences that both AMAC and I have had during different parts of our journey — mainly my attempt to remain sober in drunken places –– we have also both seen bar culture begin to change to incorporate sober people intentionally. 

Menus featuring specialty spirit-free, zero-proof — or the bar-industry dreaded phrase “mocktails” — are becoming more available in restaurants. Designated dry months are social trends that aren’t going away. And new nonalcoholic spirits, beer and wine companies seem to appear every day. Some are even establishing brick-and-mortar locations where tastings, events, and fellowshipping around alcohol-free living can flourish. 

The Zero Proof, a spirit-free adult beverage company, recently released the results of a survey that boldly declared the movement here to stay: “Two-thirds of American adults consciously intended to drink less alcohol in 2022, primarily fueled by health and budget concerns. This mindset, held by 64% of younger consumers (ages 21-30) and 50% of all adults who drink alcohol, will continue into 2023.” 

The survey also found that “nearly 7 in 10 of all respondents (alcohol drinkers and non-drinkers) say they wish social settings were more conducive to accommodating those who drink alcohol and those who do not. The most uncomfortable for non-drinkers are bars and house parties.” An $11 billion industry of no/low-alcohol drink brands has sprung up in response to serve that growing market. There’s even a store in Baltimore dedicated to them — Hopscotch Zero Proof Bottle Shop —  just a mile away from the restaurant where I was ridiculed for ordering a spirit-free drink. 

The explosion of nonalcoholic spirits shows the scene is changing. People want to enjoy a zero-proof cocktail — whether always, or just on occasion — with their friends, without standing out as an abstainer. After all, there are stigmas attached to sobriety, too, stemming from its associations with both addiction and moral judgment. 

“When I got sober, it was not something people were comfortable talking about,” Sarah Hepola told me. 

Hepola has been sober for 13 years, and vividly captured that journey in her critically lauded memoir, "Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget.” Hepola’s also a former culture editor for Salon, and the one responsible for planting the seed that grew into my writing career here. Can you guess what my first essay was about? Drinking. 

The first sentence reads, “Miss Sheryl, Dontay, Bucket-Head and I compiled our loose change for a fifth of vodka. I'm the only driver, so I went to get it.”  

“There’s pressure, and I kind of went into hiding for the first year of my sobriety,” Hepola continued. “I didn't go out, because I didn't want those questions.” 

Those questions.  

Those questions made staying sober more difficult than my urge to drink did. I did not miss hangovers, and I was experiencing that nonalcoholic clarity that sober people brag about. I felt great overall — until the questions came:

“Are you dying? If so, how soon, and can have your sneakers?” 

“Do you have some kind STD? And you’re not drinking because you don’t want to throw off the antibiotic?”

“Why come to a bar and not drink? That’s like getting on a boat and not boating, right?” 

“Have a drink! Real men don’t care about no damn blood pressure until they collapse! Did you even almost collapse yet? Collapse first, then talk to me about drinking!”  

I had a great sober run after my altercation at the educator ceremony, but about a month later, it ended. It wasn’t a dark, depressing fall-off, but I did abandon sobriety. Partially because of the questions and partially because of identity — it’s still difficult for me to imagine myself as a completely alcohol-free guy. There are too many memories, celebrations and bonds forged between me and my costar booze. I can’t remember signing a deal or accomplishing a goal or grieving a loved one without it. And my doctor never said I had to stop entirely — just cut back. 

“A person's sobriety is as unique as their fingerprint,” AMAC told me. 

So maybe my version can be sipping just enough to participate without fully indulging. 

I haven’t had a taste of hard liquor since that diagnosis. I now classify as a slight social wine drinker, the guy who circles the function with one glass. But I would be lying if I acted as if I didn’t feel like I was missing out on the fun that the drunken, sweaty people are having in my sober presence. 

Drinkers and non-drinkers are going to continue to find themselves in the same spaces, though, whether for professional reasons or a refusal to stop socializing even without booze. After all, addiction isn't the only reason people have to abstain from alcohol. Not everyone quits for extreme reasons. 

“A number of my friends quit drinking,” Hepola said. “The older you get, the more it really wears on your system. I have very few friends left who are really hardcore drinkers.… They just mellowed out.” 

* * *

Having these conversations about alcohol and sobriety,  I realized that most of the people I talked to were people closer to my own age — Gen Xers and Millennials. People who, like me, came of age during a time when grabbing a drink after work felt necessary, having a cold beer during the football game felt necessary — the kind of people who looked at prayer and alcohol as the primary ways to dissolve stress. I wanted to know how the students in my writing class at the University of Baltimore — mostly Gen Z, between the ages of 18 and 21 — related to alcohol. 

“Do you guys get sloppy drunk?” I asked a small group who came to class early, when some of our best, loosest conversations happened. 

“Yuck,” a young man named Josh said. “If being drunk could get me out of a final. Wait, are you giving a final?” 

Most of the group had no real interest in drinking. They didn't consider themselves to be sober, or feel like they were part of a movement. Drinking just didn't really seem to interest them. 

“I loved to guzzle Absolut vodka back when I was your age,” I said, as proudly as if I were a liquor company rep. “We partied at the club till 2 a.m., and then we hit the after-hours that rocked til 4, and then the after-after party at my crib that went until 6 or until everybody passed out!” 

“You should be lucky you are alive,” my student Nesha said. “That whole night sounds ridiculous. How did you have any fun?” 

“I can't remember, Nesha. I was drunk!” 

My students aren’t outliers, according to AMAC, who sees similar trends in the liquor industry and around the bars she frequents from time to time. 

“There's a younger generation coming up right now that does not drink. They don't want to drink.” AMAC said. “They know the hangover comes with it. They see the stigma.” 

More young adults are abstaining from alcohol compared to college-age Americans 20 years ago, Science Daily reports. “Between 2002 and 2018, the number of adults aged 18-22 in the U.S. who abstained from alcohol increased from 20% to 28% for those in college and from about 24% to 30% for those not in school, say researchers at the University of Michigan and Texas State University.”

I was born on the cusp between Gen X and Millennials. I remember everyone drinking all of the time. There’s definitely been a shift. Hepola’s seen it, too. 

“If you're coming up underneath that, you're probably going to rebel against what your older siblings do, because it’s not cool,” she said. 

* * *

Nonalcoholic cocktails may be easier to find in liquor stores, restaurants and bars now, and young people may not be drinking as much. But let’s go grab a drink culture hasn’t retired. Maybe the conversation we should be having should be about more than navigating the world safely in sobriety — going out to a bar or a nightclub should be a safe experience for anyone, no matter what or how much they’re drinking. 

Safe Bars was founded in Washington, D.C., in 2013 by gender-based violence prevention expert Lauren Taylor. When I spoke with their executive director Amie Ward for this story, Ward — who also founded the peer-to-peer support and resource group The Healthy Tender, for sober or sober-curious folks in her industry — told me that the organization’s mission started with a focus on self-defense and bystander intervention, “because of the high link of alcohol within sexual assaults that are reported. One in two sexual assaults involve alcohol.” 

Ward’s degrees in kinesiology and cultural studies inform her insights into how power and bodies intersect in drinking spaces — an underrated skill in the hospitality world. When a patron walks into a bar, they are heading for a destination, wanting to be transported from whatever they are feeling to a place of ease. Safe Bars’ training positions bartenders as the trip’s pilot, capable of ensuring a safe trip for everyone. Ward’s first safety rule is simple: “Don't automatically give people shots.” 

“Number two: If somebody says no, that's the end of the f**king question,” Ward continued. “That’s the answer. ‘No’ is a complete sentence. Don’t ask them why — it's not your story to know!” 

I thought about my experience at the ceremony, wondering if my night would have gone differently if the bartender had stepped in. I also thought about how many people in the service industry live off tips, and wondered if it's even ethical for me to expect them to control all of the crazy conversations and interactions that happen at their bars. There are too many resources available for patrons to learn how to conduct themselves respectably. 

I landed on the idea that the answer lies in the collective; it is up to everyone — patrons, bartenders, servers, the sober and the drunk alike — to work together to create a reality where everybody is comfortable and happy. We all deserve that, sober or not. Maja taught me that.

I didn’t give Maja all the flowers she deserved when I had the opportunity. My inability to fully appreciate those times while she was here tied into the feelings that many of us — including some of the former drinkers I talked to — chased at some point in our lives: The yearning to hold onto memories, places and people that we want to see, talk to or touch again. And this is where it becomes bigger than booze — and potentially more dangerous — because there is no way to really recreate those wild nights while sober. They never would have happened the same way without the drinks.

Maja and I had so many “I was messed up last night!” conversions that I truly miss; however, I realized that I miss the art, food and life conversations we shared just as much if not more. I may not have been able to reach this understanding if she was still here, or if I had kept my drinking habit. 

The space I gained from the huge alcohol reduction from my diet has allowed me to focus on the good, the bad and the things that matter. To understand that those wild nights are gone, but better nights are coming. To appreciate what I have, and be present. To focus on the fun, just like Maja said. 

She was right the whole time. 

The post Navigating the new sober boom, where “a person’s sobriety is as unique as their fingerprint” appeared first on Salon.com.

Now the problem of climate change and wine that was explored by those scientists (in their case, for an article in the journal PLOS One) is being explored on a broader scale. In its latest annual report, the International Organisation of Vine and Wine (OIV) say that wine production has reached its lowest level in more than six decades, and climate change is a major culprit.

"Extreme climatic conditions and widespread fungal diseases severely impacted many vineyards worldwide, culminating in a historically low global wine production of 237 million hecto litres," the OIV writes. "This marked a 10% drop from 2022 and represented the lowest output since 1961."

In a press release issued shortly before the production of their report, the world's largest intergovernmental organization for regulating wine unambiguously pointed the finger at climate change. While human-caused greenhouse gas emissions are not the sole cause of the wine industry's woes, they are undeniably a major factor.

"Climate change and sustainability were recognized as an essential focus for the future," the organization explained. The sharp decline in production has hit both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, with OIV authorities saying output is worse than they projected in November. In Europe, for example, Italy suffered a 23 percent dip in productivity, Spain a 20 percent dip, Austria a 6.5 percent dip, Germany a 3.8 percent dip and Hungary a 2.1 percent dip.

All regions suffered from factors ranging from droughts and floods to water shortages and unexpected mildews. Because most wine is mainly produced in mid-latitude region such as California, South Africa, Argentine and the aforementioned European nations, they are particularly vulnerable to fluctuations in heat and humidity.

"About 90% of traditional wine regions in coastal and lowland regions of Spain, Italy, Greece and southern California could be at risk of disappearing by the end of the century because of excessive drought and more frequent heatwaves with climate change," write the authors of a March 2024 paper on climate change and the wine industry from the journal Nature Reviews Earth and Environment. At the same time, there could be trade-offs that benefit residents of cooler latitudes, with warmer temperatures increasing wine cultivation suitability in northern France and the Pacific Northwest.

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Regardless of where one lives, though, climate change is expected to increase heat and decrease water availability. If left unchecked, not only will this make it progressively harder for grapes everywhere, but it also is a breeding ground for diseases and pests that target vineyards. In the Nature Reviews Earth and Environment paper, the authors predicted that if warming is capped at 2° C above pre-industrial levels, almost half of the world's current winemaking regions would be less suitable for growing, with more than a quarter being at the same level and a quarter potentially being more suitable for cultivation.

Yet if temperatures surpass the 2° C threshold, 29% of current wine regions will have conditions too extreme to permit the growth of grapes, even the rise of new suitable growing regions could not possibly offset that loss. Another 41% of current wine regions will also be unsuitable unless farmers adapt their methods.

Speaking to Salon in 2020 about adaptation methods, Anita Oberholster — an associate specialist in cooperative extension of viticulture and enology at the University of California – Davis — said that there are ways of fighting climate change on behalf of wine including conserving water, reusing wastewater, working longer-term on rootstocks and varieties with higher heat and drought tolerance and protecting grapes against the heat. At the same time, there are certain climate change-caused developments from which there are no protections. Take the wildfires that devastated souther California's wine industry in 2020.

"As far as fires go, better management of fuel sources, looking at barrier sprays to protect grapes against smoke, improved treatment options for wines that are impacted, better insurance options, better risk assessment," Oberholster said. "We are applying for grants to try and link atmospheric data to smoke exposure risk data in vineyards."

While some adaptation is possible, to a large extent the wine industry is simply going to have to accept that the world of the future will be very different from the one to which they have been accustomed for centuries. In an industry where the varied habits of single-celled organisms and the tiniest environmental alterations can make a vast difference, climate change is too much of a game-changer to not have a massive effect.

In the words of the eminent Australian viticulturalist Dr Richard Smart to World of Wine, even relatively small changes in temperature could “effectively rewrite regional reputations and varietal preferences.”

The post European wine just had its worst growing season in 62 years. Climate change could make it worse appeared first on Salon.com.

What I am giving you really is a two-fer: A tried and true Bushwacker recipe to make year round, plus a King Cake version to celebrate Mardi Gras in a way that is fun and unique. Topped with whipped cream, tinted sugars, decorative swirls of caramel or chocolate syrup and a miniature baby (if you want it to be ultra-authentic), this dessert-like drink is the perfect thing to get your Laissez les bons temps rouler on.

I feel like I should say, “Long story short,” before jumping in as people do before proceeding on to a very long story. My intention is to give you a great recipe for a cocktail I know you are going to love, but it would not be right for me to toss out a recipe that includes, of all things, a miniature plastic baby without providing context. I will use “brevity” as my mantra and do my best to stick to the high points.  

If you have ever celebrated Mardi Gras in its birthplace of Mobile, Alabama (our neighbor to the west and my hometown for most of my life) or ventured to New Orleans where this Christian holiday leading up to Lent has taken on the epic proportions of Carnival in Rio de Janeiro; you have seen, and perhaps tasted, King Cake. This colorful, wreath-shaped cake is featured from January 6th until Fat Tuesday in the finest bakeries and the lowliest of supermarkets and just about everywhere in between. More like a Danish, or a cross between a coffee-cake and a French pastry; King Cakes are circular (representing the unity of one's religious faith), lightly filled and heavily sprinkled with colored sanding sugar in shades of purple (justice), green (faith) and gold (power) in honor of each of the three kings who visited the baby Jesus on Epiphany (the twelfth day after Christmas). 

There is one more very important and most unique ‘ingredient’ in a King Cake: a little plastic baby. Measuring a little over an inch in length, it is pressed into and purposefully hidden within the cake after baking. Tradition says, whoever is served the piece containing the baby has good luck throughout the year and has to host the following year’s party. (King Cake babies often have to pull double duty at Christmas when you find that the Baby Jesus is missing from your Christmas creche or nativity scene.)

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King Cakes come in every conceivable flavor with an equally astonishing number of fillings; in fact, a bakery right outside of New Orleans advertises over sixty different kinds, but cinnamon-pecan with a cream cheese filling is traditional.  

Whew! Okay.. that was a lot, but honestly, I only provided the broad strokes. The takeaway here is this: King Cake Bushwackers taste amazing.

Whether you add it to your Mardi Gras celebration or not, you will love this cocktail. And maybe I have piqued your interest to learn more about our most rambunctious and raucous festival season that dates back to the eighteenth century. 

Let the good times roll! Happy Mardi Gras!

The post There may be no better way to celebrate Fat Tuesday than with this King Cake Bushwacker cocktail appeared first on Salon.com.

Starting in the US in the late 1990s, and spreading to several other wealthy countries in the early 2000s, young people began to drink less than previous generations, or avoid drinking alcohol altogether.

The proportion of 16- to 24-year-olds who report drinking alcohol in the last week fell from 67% in 2002 to 37% in 2021. The decline was even steeper for younger teens. In England, the proportion of 15-year-olds who have drunk alcohol in the past week fell from 52% to 20% between 2001 and 2021, although some of this may be due to changes in the survey methods over that period.

We have been researching the decline in youth drinking in England and Australia, using both surveys and interviews with young people.

When we present our findings to other researchers and the wider public, we find that adults are often surprised to hear that young people today drink less. In our experience, their reactions suggest a belief in outdated stereotypes of young people as irresponsible and feckless.

They also sometimes jump to incorrect conclusions about the reasons why young people are drinking less, projecting adults' motives for abstaining onto young people.

Why are young people drinking less?

The reasons behind the decline are complex, but by analyzing survey data and interviewing young people in England and Australia, we can provide some answers.

The change reflects a general trend in young people's attitudes toward risk. From smoking to sex, young people – including those in early adolescence and in their early twenties – are generally more risk averse than previous generations.

This extends to where they choose to, or feel able to, spend time. Some young people have less independent access to public spaces, like parks, than past generations because of increased restrictions on their ability to access such spaces. There is also evidence that they view socializing in such spaces with alcohol to be unsafe and morally suspect.

Recent research shows that drinking has become less routine and expected for young people, while not drinking has become more socially acceptable. This could be due to more efforts by governments and businesses like supermarkets to make alcohol less available to young people.

However, it can't be the only explanation, as in some countries where there has been a decline in youth drinking, policies regulating young people's access to alcohol haven't changed.

Adolescents' attitudes toward drinking have generally become more negative, while their attitudes toward non-drinking have become positive and accepting. Researchers argue that this stems from a longer, more protracted transition into young adulthood, as well as young people's concerns about the future and feeling a strong sense of pressure to succeed in life, including economically.

We found most of the young people we spoke to didn't consider peer pressure to be an important factor in their decisions to drink or not, except for a small number of university students who resented how alcohol-centric social life at university is.

Misconceptions about youth drinking

People we have spoken to about our research often assume that if young people aren't drinking, they must be doing something else instead that is equally (or even more) harmful, such as smoking cigarettes or cannabis.

In fact, the opposite is true: smoking and cannabis use decreased at the same time as alcohol. There were some signs of increases in cannabis use among schoolchildren before the pandemic and smoking among young adults after the pandemic.

But both of these – like the rise in teen vaping – occurred years after the decline in youth drinking was well-established. In other words, some groups of young people may be smoking cannabis or tobacco and vaping more, but they are unlikely to be doing so in place of drinking alcohol.

And while the rise of the internet and social media happened at the same time as the drinking decline, there is little evidence that young people are using technology in place of drinking. On the contrary, it is those who use the internet the most who also tend to drink the most.

It is important to note that the decline in youth drinking is not the same as the growing "sobriety movement". The latter has been behind temporary abstinence campaigns like Dry January, and helped by social media influencers, celebrities and online communities promoting sobriety as a way a of life.

Those who speak publicly about their decision to go sober usually describe how this decision was made after years of binge drinking. The sobriety movement is about adults reassessing their relationship to alcohol. This is very different from teenagers deciding, actively or passively, not to take up drinking.

Though at least one study has identified links between young people's decisions not to drink and their health consciousness, the general trend is not about giving up alcohol, but about not really developing a drinking habit in the first place.

Laura Fenton, Research Associate, Public Health, University of Sheffield; Amy Pennay, Research Fellow, Centre for Alcohol Policy Research, La Trobe University, and John Holmes, Professor of Alcohol Policy, Sheffield Alcohol Research Group, University of Sheffield

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post Youth drinking is declining – myths about the trend, busted appeared first on Salon.com.

Our findings could have big implications for the wine industry, particularly as some groups in the U.S. are pushing for wine to have mandatory nutrition labels.

Right now, people usually think of wine as a "virtue" rather than a "vice," thanks to popular beliefs about its health benefits and news coverage of its antioxidant effects. But requiring nutrition labels, which are currently voluntary, could change those views.

In our experimental research, which included nearly 800 participants, we found that American consumers aren't used to seeing nutrition information on wine labels, and most are surprised by what they read since they don't associate wine with calories, carbohydrates and sugar. People who were prompted to read labels viewed wine as less healthy than they did beforehand, and they were less likely to buy it.  

We also found that people are more surprised by the sugar content of sweeter wines, such as Moscato, than by the number of calories. Sweet wines, in particular, may contain more sugar than consumers realize.

Why it matters

The European Union recently mandated nutrition labeling on wine, sometimes in the form of QR codes, and industry analysts expect the U.S. will eventually follow suit. The Treasury Department's Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, which regulates wine production, has already agreed to issue some preliminary rules for mandatory ingredient labeling.

Nutrition labels don't need to be bad news for the wine industry. Wine sales have recently declined among those 60 and younger, and greater transparency in labeling could help rekindle young consumers' interest.

Millennial and Gen Z consumers may especially appreciate clearer labels, since it could help them view wine as less mysterious and more accessible. It may also allow them to fit an occasional glass of wine into their personal health goals. Younger consumers might also be more interested in eliminating as many highly processed ingredients as possible from their diets.

What's more, there's been a recent trend toward wine packaging including labels like "organic," "biodynamic" and "sustainable," which may appeal to consumers' preferences for sustainability. These labels have less to do with nutrition than with manufacturers trying to appear eco-friendly — but makers of natural wine would likely benefit most from offering nutrition information to support their front-of-label claims.

What other research is being done

German researchers have found that most consumers often overestimate calories in wine before viewing nutritional labels, and they don't think the information is useful. The researchers found that consumers often feel insecure and confused after reading wine ingredient information. Reviewing ingredient lists also made consumers less likely to view wine as a natural product.

On the manufacturer side, research shows that mandatory nutrition labeling would affect the wine industry in several ways — notably by increasing overhead costs related to compliance, laboratory analyses and more challenging labeling processes. This could disproportionately hurt smaller wineries with fewer resources.

What still isn't known

We still don't know who is most likely to read and use nutrition labels on wine, but younger customers seem to be more interested in food labels generally. Millennials report they are eating healthier and exercising more than previous generations.

And there's still more to learn about how nutrition labels affect behavior. Studies have shown mixed results, but on the whole, labeling appears to make people cut their calorie consumption somewhat. Still, the U.S. put nutrition labels on foods in the 1990s, and that hasn't stopped the obesity rate from rising.

Deidre Popovich, Associate Professor of Marketing, Texas Tech University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post Think wine is a virtue, not a vice? Nutrition label information surprised many US consumers appeared first on Salon.com.

(“Hi, Rae.”) 

It’s not the seasonal depression or Christmas blues that get to me. It’s the holiday parties full of people you can barely tolerate, even when lit. It’s getting hockey-checked by frenzied consumers in packed shopping outlets while trying to log into your banking app. It’s the migraine-inducing cheery jingles ringing from on high while you cram more work into fewer shifts, just so you can race out the door and drive for hours toward your miserable little hometown, all to be with the collection of personality disorders that’s been posing as your family for 40 years. 

The holidays are a relapse gauntlet for someone who struggles with alcohol, even for us California sober types. And lately that’s especially the case for women. Compounding the problem, the recently sober run this bottled-in-bond obstacle course while facing increased isolation as support networks and therapists head out of town themselves. Like every dry drunk, I’ve been told the key to getting through the minefield with your chip intact is to have a plan and stick to it. Plenty of mental health and addiction experts have offered their tip sheets. 

Mine includes everyone getting out of my face while I pound sugar like I live in a timeline where size-zero clothes and diabetes never existed. Then I’m leaving town for the closest weed-legal state, with the singular goal of chiefing so hard the local budtender nicknames me “ISS” — because nerds with a death-wish have been trying to get inside and fix me since 1998, but I’m so complicated and high it’ll take two alphabets and a billion-dollar international consortium to make me come down safely. 

Not all of us are abandoning ship, though. And there are still a few parties to attend before I bounce. Mind you, I’m not an expert in anything except getting paid and being 100% that b****, so this list isn’t reflective of advice from the broader recovery community. Nonetheless, here’s a few helpful hints from Hell-oise on making your holiday party more recovery friendly for the Cali-sober people you love.

Why am I even here?

Is this a party or just a really slow and uncomfortable drinking game? Give me something to do. Where are your dice? Why don’t you have poker chips? Is this a bong? Hey, did you know the counterweight on your record player’s tonearm was set to four freaking grams? I don’t know where you found a cartridge that heavy but you’re gonna shred your wax that way, man. Yeah, no worries, I zeroed it out for you but the anti-skate knob is loose. Where do you keep your screwdrivers? 

The Irish exit

Your freshly dried-out friend actually showed up? Like… not by accident, but intentionally left the house to come here?? Holy hell. Congrats. Even 30 seconds of attendance hits the social-acceptability quota, and a lot of us will probably dip that fast. Don’t make a big deal about it, especially if the food sucks and boozing is the only thing to do. We’ve got a fine-tuned radar for when things are about to get too fun, and you’ve got other guests to worry about — like Ted. He just hasn’t been the same since Annette took his carpet-cleaning business in the divorce, and now he seems to be mistaking your monstera for a urinal.

Mocktails and non-alcoholic booze

If the coffee game is on point, we will love you in ways your parents never did. It’s marvelous of you to have NA-booze options around. Don’t be offended if some of us steer clear; depending on the person and the moment, near-beer can either be a perfect delight or trigger blood-lust level cravings for the real deal. Friend hack: If you keep a bottle of club soda with bar fruit and mixers nearby, we can keep our hands busy making PlaySkool mocktails (what a stupid word) instead of taking apart your spouse’s expensive turntable. 

Mind your business

I’m looking forward to people asking why I’m not drinking so I can see how uncomfortable I can make them. My biggest hope is that they’ll ask if I’m pregnant, and I’ll get to teach them a lesson about asking women That Question. I’ve been practicing my sadly wistful smile in the mirror, along with a softly spoken “not anymore” and just the exact right heel-turn. Werk.

Stop making it weird

So you’re doing Dry January and this is your last hoorah. Or you’re cutting back these days. Or your uncle just got sober. Or you quit smoking and just want me to know you understand how hard addiction is. Good for you — I wish I could launch myself out of this conversation and straight into the sun. Stop trying to relate when you don’t. Stop soliciting validation kudos for your pet false equivalencies. Stop veiling your own discomfort with self-deprecating remarks that tacitly seek permission to drink in front of me. I’m not here to collect sympathy, convert you to the church of AA, nor frown disapprovingly over proceedings from some moral high ground. Stop making it weird already and help me find the damn screwdrivers. 

Solo rolling sucks

Always assume I’m bringing a plus one-ish. Is it going to be a romantic interest? A sponsor? Two be-sequined nuns named Sister Petty Davis and and Sister Velveeta VonTease, who ziplined into your kitchen from our helicopter Uber while lip-syncing “Twerk Your Turkey”? Who knows. But if you’ve got another sober friend or three, invite them. Misery loves company and, if things go well, maybe one of them will start a badass girl gang with me. Maybe she’ll be cold and say she likes my leather jacket. Maybe she’ll tell me she always hated Parcheesi, and that the carpet-cleaning business is boring but it’s good money if you don’t mind the blood stains, and then ask if that’s my chopper and if I want to meet her cats — after all, I’m OK to drive.

An earlier version of this article originally appeared in Salon's Lab Notes, a weekly newsletter from our Science & Health team.

The post Staying sober during the holidays is like waging battle. Bring on the real war against Christmas appeared first on Salon.com.

Alcohol allergies are rare, with documented cases primarily involving a rash. However, what often perplexes people are the symptoms that mimic allergies, such as wheezing, headaches and skin flushing.

These reactions, more often than not, are attributed to alcohol exacerbating underlying conditions like asthma, urticaria (hives) and rhinitis. The reason is that alcohol dilates blood vessels, which then sets the stage for a symphony of bodily responses.

The term "alcohol intolerance" becomes key in deciphering these reactions. Unlike allergies, which involve the immune system, intolerances arise when the body lacks the necessary enzymes to digest and eliminate alcohol. The consequence? Unusual symptoms that may leave one questioning whether the drink in hand is a source of enjoyment or distress.

Not just the alcohol

As we peer into the bottom of our glasses, it becomes clear that the source of these reactions is not just the alcohol but the complex composition of the drink.

Red wine often takes centre stage as a provocateur of reactions, followed by whisky, beer and other wines. The usual suspects, however, are not the alcohol molecules but the enigmatic chemicals known as congeners.

Congeners, responsible for the body, aroma and flavour of a drink, play a subtle yet significant role in the orchestration of reactions. But can these congeners induce true allergic reactions? To answer this, we delve into the substances within alcoholic beverages that might induce bodily responses.

Histamine, a familiar name to allergy sufferers, emerges as a prominent figure in this narrative. Present in abundance, particularly in red wines, histamine can be the instigator of headaches, flushing, nasal symptoms, gut disturbances or even asthma. Those intolerant to histamine may grapple with these symptoms because their body is unable to break down and eliminate this compound.

While yeast allergies are not unheard of, studies cast a reassuring light on the low levels of yeast allergens in alcoholic drinks. True allergic reactions stemming from yeasts are a rare occurrence, dampening the suspicion that this microscopic organism is the chief cause.

Sulphur dioxide, commonly found in home-brewed beers and wines, especially in the form of sodium metabisulphite, is another potential culprit. About one in ten asthmatics may find themselves wheezing in response to sulphites, with rashes and anaphylactic reactions being the exception rather than the rule.

Sulphites are one of 14 allergens that must be listed in bold in all prepared foods and restaurants.

In the realm of additives, substances like tartrazine and sodium benzoate emerge as potential instigators of urticaria and asthma. As we sift through the components that constitute our favorite drinks, the awareness of these additives becomes pivotal for those navigating sensitivities.

The very essence of alcoholic beverages lies in the plants from which they derive – be it grapes, apples, juniper berries, coconuts, oranges, hops or malt. While these plant-derived allergens can theoretically trigger true allergic reactions, most are destroyed during processing.

An exception, albeit a rare one, is the potential trouble posed by fungal spores (mold) from the corks of wine bottles. Sensitivity to this fungus is uncommon, but for those at risk, a visible mold-laden cork could expose them to an unwarranted dose of allergen.

Discover the culprit

For those grappling with these enigmatic reactions, avoidance is often the best course of action.

Keeping meticulous records of the drink type, accompanying consumables, and physical activities during the episode can assist in identifying triggers. If all alcoholic drinks seem to induce reactions, it might signal an exaggerated response to alcohol or an exacerbation of an underlying condition.

As we raise our glasses to the complexity of alcohol-related reactions, a journey through the nuances of congeners, histamines, yeasts, sulphites, additives and plant-derived allergens unfolds. In the spirit of scientific exploration, the quest for a comprehensive understanding of these reactions continues, promising insights that may one day unveil the mysteries behind the intricate dance between our bodies and the libations we savor.

Samuel J. White, Senior Lecturer in Genetic Immunology, Nottingham Trent University and Philippe B. Wilson, Professor of One Health, Nottingham Trent University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post Can you really be allergic to alcohol? appeared first on Salon.com.

“You’re too intense now,” said my mother in Michigan.

“I liked you better before,” admitted my cousin, who’d complained whenever I’d lit up but was now annoyed I couldn’t go bar hopping with her. Did she only want me to ax the bad habits we didn’t share?

“You’re no fun anymore,” carped a college buddy I’d once partied with. Did he prefer me stoned and half-conscious? 

Even a mentor said, “You’ve lost your spark.” Did he miss the deep, crazy conversations we had while chain-smoking and guzzling cocktails? I was hurt he found me more fascinating when I was using.

The muscular personal trainer I’d splurged on for a few sessions saw me sweating from nicotine withdrawal and said, “You look horrible. If it’s so painful, why don’t you just smoke?”

“I hired you to help get me over my two-pack-a-day fix,” I replied, startled. “It’s an impulse disorder. I need to learn to ‘suffer well.”

Those were the words of Dr. Woolverton, the substance specialist I saw weekly. Though I’d paid for two more sessions, the doctor suggested I cut my losses. So I quit the trainer too.

“Why all the negative reactions?” I asked in therapy, stunned and confused by the backlash.

“Your sobriety holds up a mirror to everyone’s excesses. It could be seen as threatening,” he explained. “Especially for those who don’t want to — or can’t — stop.”

But maybe there was another reason. What if I sounded like a moralizing, self-righteous prig? Was it time to give up people-pleasing, too? 

Anxious, overweight and friendless at 13, tobacco and pot relieved my social awkwardness and miraculously suppressed my appetite. I was nervous to start college early, so I became popular as the fun girl who threw wild soirees. (Well, wild for Michigan.) We shared smokes, booze (my drink was vodka and Tab), a water bong, magic mushrooms and the occasional Xanax. I relished the role of bohemian poet, sure I needed to be wacked out to write. I clung to those crutches for decades.

It wasn’t so cute at 41 — more like pathetic and depressing. While I was too prissy to try LSD, heroin or Oxy, I loved blow since it kept me from eating for three days. Before I put my entire bank account up my nose, I committed to a year of one-on-one talk therapy with Dr. Woolverton. But each time I cut out a substance, a new fetish surfaced. A psycho-pharmacologist thought I had Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity and prescribed Adderall. It made me feel like a speed freak, so I threw those pills away. One dose of Wellbutrin almost gave me a seizure.

With no one-size-fits-all balm, we tried an idiosyncratic, all-out behavioral strategy to avoid the “substance shuffle” common with addicts. Eating the icing off a dozen cupcakes caused a sleepless sugar rush, and my jeans refused to zip. A stick of Juicy Fruit gum to quell my nicotine cravings turned into ten packs a day until a nutritionist pushed me toward sugarless — and then the sorbitol made me sick. After losing two fillings, my dentist insisted I quit gum altogether. In a state of chaotic agitation, I ricocheted from the caffeine in endless daily cans of Diet Coke to hundreds of cinnamon sticks to being unable to sleep without Tylenol cough syrup.

“You have such a compulsive personality, you could get hooked on carrot sticks,” Dr. Woolverton said. He delineated the difference between an innocuous ritual versus an obsessive dependency: Stop doing it for two weeks, and if it hurts, you’re getting addicted.

As the nicotine patch stemmed my cigarette cravings, my recovery required retraining my brain to stop reaching for anything to obliterate difficult emotions. To do that, I journaled, recording the complicated feelings I could no longer inhale, imbibe or eat away. I repeated mantras incessantly, like “Lead the least secretive life you can” and “The only way to change is to change. Understanding follows.”

When a colleague called me “a walking Oprah episode,” I thought of toning it down. But then I learned the buff former personal trainer who’d asked, “Why don’t you just smoke?” died of a heart attack in his 40s. Another client of his revealed he’d been on steroids. I was shocked. I’d been so myopically involved in my own recovery, I’d missed signs he was doping. Was my temperance triggering? His death reminded me how dangerous substances could be, with deadly opioid overdoses increasing catastrophically over the last few years.

Without intervention, addictions don’t get smaller; they grow more out of control until they explode, Dr. Woolverton insisted. He advised me to put as many obstacles between myself and my substances as possible. But how?

To stay clean, I had to be boring — and vigilant. As everyone was either part of the problem or part of the solution, it was easier for me to remove people, rituals or entire food groups than be moderate. To avoid gaining weight, ruining my throat and teeth, I nixed gum, diet soda, bars and late meals at restaurants. My friend Karen called to ask me, “Want to go out and get some water?” (We wound up taking a long walk.)

I was now hooked on unhooking.

Catching a glimpse of Marlboros in the purse of a new housekeeper I was trying out made me want to bum one. How could I ask her to leave them home?

“Tell her you need to have a cigarette-free apartment, so you’d appreciate it if she left the pack downstairs with your doorman,” my doctor said. 

“That would make me sound like a control freak,” I lamented.

“You are a control freak,” he said. “Would you rather risk your sobriety than politely ask someone you might hire to help you out with a minor request?”

When I did, she replied, “Sure, no problem. I’m trying to kick it too.”

At least some acquaintances understood my need to be self-protective. Others were miffed by my rudeness. I left pals behind at readings and quickly crossed streets if I smelled a hint of weed to avoid a contact buzz, confusing companions and walking buddies. I offended an acolyte who caught me pawning off the dessert basket she brought me to a neighbor, and insulted a coworker who’d gifted me holiday champagne by saying, “Don’t you know I don’t drink?”

Without my old self-soothing methods, my nerves frayed and my patience was nonexistent. But I allowed my discomfort to surface and to play itself out, telling its own story. Nights and weekends I let myself cry, scrawling purple poetry into my journal, playing Bob Dylan bootlegs lamenting that everybody must not get stoned.

Since addicts depend on substances, not people, I attempted to rely on more humans. Yet I couldn’t handle AA groups where everyone smoked butts outside, guzzled soda and coffee and ate donuts. Instead, I avoided crowds, leaning on a few “core pillars” I trusted, like my therapist, my cousin Molly (also in recovery) and my long-suffering husband. For the first 12 months of my addiction therapy, he’d travel with me, petting my head to calm me, calling himself my “support animal.” Watching a TV show every night, he'd hold me for an hour without speaking, soothing my angst, though one evening he whispered, “The pillars are tired.”

I felt guilty for being so draining, difficult, twitchy, sweaty and claustrophobic in small spaces. At my teaching job, I fought for classrooms with windows and heating and cooling I could regulate, which alienated my bosses. In theaters, airplanes and performance spaces, I needled my companions by demanding specific aisle seats for legroom and faster escape. Everything simple was now a struggle. I’d become the Diva of Deprivation. “Life is easier when you’re anesthetizing yourself,” Dr. Woolverton opined.

My desire to please everyone was becoming toxic, so I quit that too. I skipped superficial New Year fests and literary galas filled with semi-strangers, lest I be tempted by quaffs, canapés or cannabis. I channeled those hours at home into writing and teaching instead. My frenzy and brain fog lifted and I found I could concentrate with a laser-focused intensity. I’d never be non-addictive, but as compulsions go, workaholism seemed comparatively benign, especially with regulation. I’d be at my desk at 9 a.m., then come up for air in time for class or dinner with my husband. Within nine months, something miraculous happened: My marriage, career and a few close friendships flourished.

Turned out the chemicals hadn’t liberated my creativity; they’d held it hostage. After decades of rejections, I sold several books in a row — a few chronicling my recovery — and tripled my income and energy level. Feeling intense empathy toward my students, I increased my class load and felt honored to win teaching awards. I added hours of volunteering and upped charity donations. I was so sure I’d aced clean living. And I let my guard down.

Seventeen years later, the pandemic hit. As I binge-watched TV, I munched nightly on bowls of popcorn, convincing myself it was a good, natural, snack: gluten free, whole grain, high fiber. One day when the grocery ran out of my brand (Bob’s Red Mill Whole Kernel White Popping Corn) I ran to 12 stores, unable to find it anywhere. I sweated out the 24 hours it took to arrive from Amazon. The popcorn had morphed into another obsession I couldn’t live without. A harmless one, I’d thought, before I saw I’d gained 25 pounds. I was unwittingly shuffling substances again. I knew what to do: Give up my favorite snack. It was hard for a few days, then I felt better and dropped the weight.

“You’re never recovered; you’ll always be in recovery,” Dr. Woolverton warned.

I might have to keep quitting things forever. It won’t win me any popularity contests, but having a smaller circle of VIPs who understand me is a deeper and warmer experience than placating a crowd. Dylan sang that just when you’ve lost everything you find there’s a little more to lose. After 20 years without smoking, toking or drinking, I’d add: And to be gained. By giving up toxic habits, I’ve made room for something more beautiful to take their place.

The post Secrets of a serial addict: How I got hooked on quitting, over and over again appeared first on Salon.com.

Holidays like New Years Eve, though, can cause even the most ardent non-drinker to be tantalized by the siren song of liquor, especially if those around you are swigging champagne and craft cocktails with nary a concern as the ball begins to fall.

But that doesn't have to impact your spirit-free night. You can most certainly ring in the New Year with a glass in your hand that doesn't have a scintilla of liquor — and still have a positively magnificent time. Trust me (and non-alcoholic beverage experts all across the country). 

While it may be a bit premature to say that alcohol will soon be passé, the shift in recent years is pretty darn remarkable. As Nielsen reports, "Between August 2021 and August 2022, total dollar sales of non-alcoholic drinks in the US stood at $395 million, showing a year-on-year growth of +20.6%." This can also be seen across various realms, from supermarket non-alcoholic options to restaurant drink menus with a special spirit-free section and even bars that sell entirely non-alcoholic options. No matter if non-alcoholic beer, wine or spirits, there has been significant growth across the markets. Chelsea Torres writes in Fox Business that "the trend is growing mostly among Generation Z and Millennials, who are opting for a healthier lifestyle." 

This means that all year long — but especially on New Year’s Eve — bars across the country are making sure that there are non-alcoholic cocktails on the menu with all the complexities and nuances modern customers now expect, especially as the holiday now kicks off “Dry January” for many people. 

For those who want something that mimics the traditional New Year’s Eve bubbly, there are establishments like Spago Beverly Hills that make their own non-alcoholic analogue. Adam Fournier, their bar director, describes their spirit-free rose champagne, containing rose petal, Sakura white tea, verjus rouge and "a smattering of other small components we force carbonate."

You can also buy non-alcoholic versions for pouring at home. As far as recommendations, Judy Elahi, the Beverage Director of 101 Hospitality based in Washington, D.C likes the Leitz Eins Zwei Zero Sparkling Riesling and Lyre's Classico Sparkling, while Fournier recommends Three Spirits for optimal pours while at home. 

At Ruse Restaurant at the Wildset Hotel, general  manager Tanner Collins said that his staff has six fresh juices and roughly eight to 10 different syrups and cordials, as well as non-alcoholic sparkling rose and blanc de blanc. 

"During the New Years Eve weekend we will have extra juices and syrups prepped to make sure folks can order any mocktail they can think of,” Collins said. 

Having that flexibility makes the process of creating more innovative options possible.Collins says that the "fan favorite" cocktail right now is the Roman Holiday non-alcoholic option, which is comprised of pomegranate cordial, lemon juice, club soda and non-alcoholic Sparkling Rose by Leitz Eins Zwei Zero, which is from Germany. 

"For Dry January we’re looking to expand the offerings to try out some new recipes, looking at glassware that can set the serves apart,” Fournier said. “As well as looking at how they could fit into the dining experience. We examine traditional pairings and seeing how those can be tweaked in interesting non-alc ways."

For some restaurants and bars, especially during a particularly frenzied rush, like on New Years, some bartenders may just opt to simply remove the alcohol and serve the cocktail as is otherwise, which can oftentimes fall flat. 

"I think that there are things that can be learned from more traditional menus,” Fournier said. “For example, I always aim to create a spirit-free drink that replaces the experience of the beverage it’s modeled after rather than trying to make a non-alcoholic traditional cocktail."

He said for any special event, spirit-free bartenders — both out in the world and at home — should consider the intention of the drink, just as they would a typical cocktail: "Is it to start the meal? Is it celebratory? Is it an after-dinner drink with dessert? It is the experience, the ritual and the hospitality surrounding the serve that elevates a non-alcoholic serve in the same way it elevates a more traditional cocktail."

What will I be sipping on this New Years? Well, I'm thinking of adapting my colleague Bibi Hutching's terrific sangria recipe (sans vodka and swapping in a spirit-free champagne) and happily drinking it throughout the night. No matter what or where you're drinking, though, I hope you have a ball. Just don't feel like you must consume any alcohol if that's not what you'd like. Peer pressure is never fun.Happy New Years!

The post How to ring in a spirited, non-alcoholic New Year’s Eve, according to expert bartenders appeared first on Salon.com.

Although excessive consumption of any alcohol can cause headaches, red wine is the biggest culprit: The headaches it causes come on more quickly than those caused by white wine, beer or spirits. Another important difference is that red wine headaches can be caused by only a glass or two, while other drinks only cause problems once a large amount has been ingested.

When our livers metabolize ethanol (the chemical name for alcohol), it turns into acetate via a two step process. The first stage is the reaction that converts it into the to the highly toxic substance acetaldehyde. When we consume large amounts of alcohol, our bodies accumulate this chemical, which is twenty times more toxic than alcohol itself and highly carcinogenic. This molecule is the main cause of the characteristic hangover symptoms: nausea, sweating, facial flushing and headaches.

The second step is the subsequent conversion of acetaldehyde to acetate by an enzyme called aldehyde dehydrogenase (ALDH). One particular type of this enzyme, ALDH2 from the levels it reaches in the liver.

An accumulation of acetaldehyde is responsible for the strong facial flushing effect which is seen in approximately 40% of people of Asian descent. This is because of a genetic predisposition to producing a dysfunctional variant of ALDH.

Certain drugs, such as disulfiram, can even be used to discourage alcohol consumption by inhibiting ALDH production, causing an accumulation of acetaldehyde. This leads directly to unpleasant hangover-like effects when alcohol is consumed, including headaches, without the prior intoxication.

Headaches and wine

Red wine headaches are often attributed to certain components in the drink, such as amines, sulphites, or tannins, but so far no convincing evidence has been found to support these hypotheses, nor has an alternative explanation been proposed. However, the higher concentration of flavonoids in red wine — which is ten times higher than in white wine — makes them the main suspects for causing headaches.

A research paper published on 20 November may well have identified the culprit: a flavonoid called quercetin, one of the 9,000 recorded flavonoids found in many foods such as cabbage, onions, capers, coriander, cranberries, green tea, apples and grapes.

When several flavonoids in wine known to block ALDH2 were tested, the most potent was quercetin-3-glucuronide. This compound inhibited ALDH2 almost three times more than any other. This suggests that when we drink red wine, the liver converts quercetin into quercetin-3-glucuronide, which causes us to accumulate acetaldehyde.

It is important to note that quercetin alone does not cause headaches. Onions, for example, contain much more quercetin than wine, but few people complain of headaches after eating them: Alcohol and quercetin act together to cause a buildup of poisonous acetaldehyde.

The better the wine, the stronger the headache

If the combination of quercetin and ethanol causes headaches, why is it that some people can drink red wine without any effect, while others experience headaches when they drink it? There are several potential factors that may explain this.

Although red wine has a significantly higher quercetin content than white, concentrations can vary considerably between red wines of different types and origins. This has been found in, among others, Spanish wines.

Different winemaking processes, such as fermentation and aging, also affect the chemical content that ends up in a bottle. One well-known factor is the amount of sun exposure that grapes receive. In vineyards that produce high quality wines, practices such as trellising, vine thinning and defoliation (removing leaves) cause the grapes to receive more sunlight and accumulate more quercetin than conventional vineyards that produce cheaper wines.

A study showed that the total flavonoid content was four times higher in "ultra-premium" wines than in lower quality ones. This suggests that one way to avoid headaches might be, unexpectedly, to buy cheaper wine.

Lastly, it is possible that the enzymes that digest quercetin differ from one person to another. Acetaldehyde may also trigger headaches only in genetically predisposed individuals, as is the case in a higher proportion of Asian people.

Manuel Peinado Lorca, Catedrático emérito. Director del Real Jardín Botánico de la Universidad de Alcalá, Universidad de Alcalá

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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The term took off after the Survey Center on American Life reported that over the past 30 years, American friendship groups have shrank in size, and the number of Americans without any close confidants had rapidly increased — especially among men. Multiple studies have shown that a higher number of Americans report having fewer friends and spend less time with the few they have. 

There are many implications to a society that is increasingly seeing fewer people have fewer meaningful friendships. Some have posited that a decline in friendships is leading to a decline in civic engagement. Loneliness can prime a person’s immune system to be more vulnerable to disease and more susceptible to disease progression. Some researchers have found that loneliness can be a risk factor for dementia, and thus friendship can help protect against it.

Considering the detrimental health effects loneliness can have on a person's health, it’s easy to think that having more friendships unequivocally equals good health and there are only upsides to having friends. According to a new study published in Epidemiology and Psychiatric Sciences, there is a “dark side” to friendships, too. (The good news is that it might not matter much in the grand scheme of things.)

In the study, researchers looked at data from around 13,000 adults over age 50 to examine associations between different facets of friendship and 35 health and well-being outcomes four years later. In a phone interview Bill Chopik, an associate professor of psychology at Michigan State University, told me that he and his colleagues wanted to focus on friendships, because most existing literature explores the health effects of marital or parent-child relationships.

But increasingly more Americans are remaining single and finding companionship in familial-like friendships. Curiously, the others wanted to know how much it matters to have friends. Some of the outcomes they found were that friendships were associated with a 24% reduced risk of death, 19% reduced risk of stroke, and a 17% reduced risk of depression. 

“Having good and frequent friendships was associated with you living longer, you’re happy in nearly every way and you have a bit more of a healthy personality,” he said. “Those were by far the good things, and there were some interesting results.”

Specifically, they found that friendships were associated with a 43% increased likelihood of smoking and 48% increased likelihood of heavy drinking.

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“It looks like having more and better friendships has you drinking a little bit more, which we didn't expect, and smoking a little bit more, which we normally try to deter people from doing,” he said. “The interesting thing is you, you imbibe a little bit more in these substances — and yet you still live longer.”

What’s interesting is that being without friends or being lonely in general, is just as bad, if not worse than smoking.  Research has shown that people who seek treatment for substance use problems report feeling lonely, suggesting there is a connection between isolation and substance abuse. Yet it seems if you have more friends, you’re at a higher risk to smoke and drink, too. 

Chopik said this could be part of what’s called the “amplification system” of friendships, which means your friends can amplify either your good or bad behaviors. 

“There’s a saying, ‘you are who your friends are,’” he said. “And that's what we meant by the amplification system, it accentuates our best and worst traits."

However, the trade off is “small,” Chopik said. In other words the increased likelihood of smoking or drinking is worth taking for your health and living longer. The takeaway certainly isn’t to spend the second half of your life without friends for the fear or drinking or smoking. In fact, it’s the opposite. Chopik said he hopes this study reinforces the importance of friendship when it comes to enriching the human experience.

“The trade off isn't as dramatic as I think we're talking about, it’s not like ‘I’m going to force you to smoke three cigarettes in exchange for you being happy,” he said, elaborating that despite the increase in drinking and smoking people with fulfilling friendships are still living longer. "In some ways, the story is really simple that there are no drawbacks to having really amazing friends, the difficulty is finding friends and keeping friends.”

The post Friendship is a health booster, but it has a “dark side,” a surprising study finds appeared first on Salon.com.

Yet when it comes to diagnosing babies born with birth defects associated with alcohol consumption, such as fetal alcohol syndrome, historically only the mother’s drinking habits are taken into consideration.

Research clearly shows that sperm carry a vast amount of epigenetic information – meaning heritable shifts in the way genes are expressed that don’t result from changes in the DNA sequence – that strongly influences fetal development and child health. Yet most doctors and other health care providers do not take into account the influence of paternal health and lifestyle choices on child development.

I am a developmental physiologist, and my research explores the ways that male drinking affects fetal development.

While most of the attention is given to the mom’s drinking while pregnant, my team and I focus on male drinking in the weeks and months before conception. Our studies are the first to demonstrate that male drinking before pregnancy is a plausible yet completely unexamined factor in the development of alcohol-related craniofacial abnormalities and growth deficiencies.

The intense focus on mom

In 1981, the U.S. surgeon general issued a public health warning that alcohol use by women during pregnancy was the cause of physical and mental birth defects in children.

This warning came in response to growing recognition that a group of severe physical and mental impairments in children, now commonly known as fetal alcohol syndrome, were correlated with maternal alcohol use during pregnancy.

Today, doctors and scientists recognize that as many as 1 in 20 U.S. schoolchildren may exhibit some form of fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, a term referring to a wide range of alcohol-related physical, developmental and behavioral deficits, many of which cause lifelong challenges for those affected.

According to the CDC, this syndrome can occur when alcohol in the mother’s blood passes to the baby through the umbilical cord. This has led to the firmly accepted belief that alcohol-related birth defects are caused only by maternal alcohol use during pregnancy and are the woman’s fault.

The medical community reinforces this perception by requiring pediatricians to compel mothers to confirm and document their prenatal alcohol use before they can formally diagnose children with alcohol-related birth defects or neurobehavioral disorders associated with prenatal alcohol exposure. Nonetheless, there are multiple documented instances in which children diagnosed with fetal alcohol syndrome were born to mothers who denied that they consumed alcohol during pregnancy.

Fetal alcohol syndrome disorder can take a variety of forms. For instance, some may struggle with hand-eye coordination, while others have difficulties with emotional regulation.

For example, in one study, 41 mothers denied having consumed alcohol during pregnancy despite their child receiving a diagnosis of fetal alcohol syndrome. In this circumstance and others like it over the past 40 years, the commonly accepted assumption and explanation is that these mothers lied about their alcohol use during pregnancy.

According to the CDC, there is no known safe amount of alcohol use during pregnancy or while trying to get pregnant. Despite this recommendation, alcohol use during pregnancy is widely reported.

However, reported drinking levels do not directly correlate with a child developing alcohol-related birth defects, and not all women who drink give birth to children with fetal alcohol syndrome. This contradiction has resulted in conflicting public messaging.

Although differences in how much and when pregnant women drink can contribute to the variation in how fetal alcohol syndrome develops, these factors alone cannot explain the wide range and severity of symptoms. Therefore, unknown factors beyond maternal alcohol use must contribute to this debilitating disorder.

Dad is the missing piece

Alcohol is a social drug, so when women drink, they often do so with their male partner. Building from this perspective, my laboratory used a mouse model to determine what happens if mom, dad or both parents drink.

Fetal alcohol syndrome is associated with three core birth defects: facial abnormalities, including small eyes and malformations in the middle of the face; reduced growth of the head and brain; and fetal growth restriction, a condition that occurs when babies are born smaller than average. Building on a previous study in humans, we used facial recognition software to study the effects of alcohol consumption on the faces of mice born to mothers, fathers or both parents who consumed alcohol before conception.

In a study published early this year, we captured a digital image of the mouse’s face. We then digitally assigned facial landmarks, including specific parts of the eyes, ears, nose and mouth. The computer program then determined if maternal, paternal or dual parental alcohol exposures changed the proportional relationships between each of these landmarks.

Our study using this mouse model revealed that chronic male alcohol exposure affects the formation of the offspring’s brain, skull and face. We also observed microcephaly, the underdevelopment of the head and brain, as well as lower birth weight, which became worse the more the male parent drank.

Therefore, our studies demonstrate that chronic male alcohol exposure – defined as consuming more than five drinks per day in a four-hour window – could drive all three of the core fetal alcohol syndrome birth defects.

Using this same mouse model, we also determined that these craniofacial changes persist into later life. Specifically, we identified abnormalities in the jaw and the size and spacing of the adult teeth. Abnormal alignment of the upper and lower teeth is another recognized symptom of fetal alcohol syndrome in humans.

Besides our research, other studies have identified behavioral changes in the offspring of male mice who regularly consume alcohol. In addition, clinical studies suggest that paternal drinking increases the risk of heart defects in people.

Effects on male fertility and pregnancy

Our studies also support more immediate impacts of alcohol consumption on male fertility and the ability of couples to achieve a healthy pregnancy. These observations may be especially relevant for couples struggling to have children.

The CDC estimates that about 2% of all babies born in the U.S. are conceived using assisted reproductive technologies. While the focus of in-vitro fertilization treatments remains maternal health and lifestyle choices, our studies reveal that male alcohol exposure decreases the chance of becoming pregnant after undergoing IVF.

Significantly, our research showed that the more a man drinks before providing sperm, the lower the chances of his partner becoming pregnant – in some cases, by almost 50%.

Looking ahead

Annual estimates suggest that the cumulative costs of fetal alcohol spectrum disorders to the health care and educational systems range from US$1.29 billion to $10.1 billion annually. Given these exorbitant costs and the devastating lifelong effects on affected individuals, ignoring paternal drinking habits in public health messaging overlooks a significant contributing factor.

The first published investigations into the effects of maternal exposure to toxins on birth defects in the 1950s and ’60s were met with skepticism and disbelief. Today, it is widely accepted that maternal exposures to certain drugs cause birth defects.

I fully anticipate that some within the medical and scientific communities, as well as the public, will forcefully deny that paternal drinking matters. However, until doctors start asking the father about his drinking, we will never fully know the contributions of paternal alcohol exposure to birth defects and child health.

The post Recent research suggests we are overlooking the role of fathers in fetal alcohol syndrome appeared first on Salon.com.

She joins a growing number of people who are trying to quit or reduce their drinking.

But what does "borderline alcoholic" mean and is it a real thing?

It's not all-or-nothing any more

In the early days of alcohol treatment, people used to think of problems with alcohol as all-or-nothing. They used to believe there was something different about people who had problems with alcohol and those who didn't. That's how the idea of the "addictive personality" came about.

But now we think of drinking on a continuum. It goes from not drinking at all to dependent drinking. And people can move up and down that continuum at different points in their lives. The old saying "once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic" doesn't apply any more.

How much is it OK to drink?

The Australian national alcohol guidelines say healthy men and women should drink no more than ten standard drinks a week and no more than four a day. So that's about two to three drinks three to four times a week. Most Australians drink within these guidelines.

If you drink over those guidelines you are more likely to experience a number of long- and short-term problems including alcohol dependence, cancers, diabetes and heart disease. The risk of problems increases the more you drink and the more frequently you drink.

About 25% of Australians drink at risky levels and around 6% drink at such high levels that they would probably be dependent. Daily drinking is associated with dependence.

So when is someone an alcoholic or a borderline alcoholic?

The term "alcoholic" is rarely used by health professionals any more. It can make people believe there is nothing they can do about the problems they might be experiencing. Historically, that's what the early treatment providers believed in the 1930s and that myth has continued. But some people find identifying as an "alcoholic" helpful to maintain their goal of quitting drinking.

Health professionals have never used the term "borderline alcoholic". But in describing herself that way Adele is really saying alcohol is having too much of a negative impact on her life and like many others has decided to do something positive about it by taking a break.

Which terms do we use now?

Now, we tend to talk about "dependence" on a continuum from mild to moderate to severe. We also talk about the range of problems other than dependence that people can experience, which also lie on a continuum.

The threshold for whether someone is a problem or dependent drinker is not just how much they drink (although that is important), but also how severe the alcohol-related problems are.

Problems with alcohol don't always correlate with consumption. Some people can drink a moderate amount and have a lot of problems and others can drink a lot and appear not to have many negative consequences.

I'm worried about my drinking. What next?

If you are wondering if you are drinking too much you can check online with a free and anonymous assessment.

Signs you may have a problem with alcohol include:

• having trouble stopping once you start drinking

• wanting or trying to cut back but slipping up frequently

• spending a lot of time drinking or recovering from drinking

• having cravings to drink alcohol, such as if you come home from work and reach straight for a drink

• dropping the ball at work, study or home because you've been drinking, such as not being able to do your work because you're hungover

• continuing to drink alcohol even though you know it's causing problems with your health, friends, work or relationships

• giving up or reducing social and work activities to drink instead

• drinking when it's not safe, such as before driving or swimming.

If you find you aren't getting the same effects from alcohol as you used to or you need more and more alcohol to get the same effect, you have probably developed a dependence.

Sometimes people who are very dependent can experience withdrawal symptoms when they stop – strong cravings, nausea, sweating, agitation and anxiety.

The more of these signs you have, the more likely you are to be dependent on alcohol.

If you have any of these signs, taking a break from alcohol for a few months or longer can help. If you find that's too hard, you can try sticking within the Australian alcohol guidelines by reducing the number of drinks per occasion and increasing your drink-free days.

There's help

Sometimes when people experience some of these problems they need a bit of help to keep them on track. You can talk to your GP who can refer you to a psychologist or treatment service. Or you can try self-help options such as the Hello Sunday Morning's Daybreak app (a community of people supporting each other to change their relationship with alcohol). If your problems are more severe, you can try something like SMART Recovery (evidence-based group support for alcohol and other drug problems).

If you are worried about your own or someone else's alcohol or other drug use, you can contact the National Alcohol and other Drug Hotline on 1800 250 015 for free, confidential advice.

Nicole Lee, Professor at the National Drug Research Institute (Melbourne), Curtin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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Many studies have shown that climate change threatens alcohol production around the world, from vineyards in France to whiskey distilleries in Scotland. Now there’s alarming evidence that climate change affects hospitalizations for alcohol consumption, too.

A study published this week in the journal Nature Communications Medicine found that temperature spikes due to climate change have led to a marked increase in the number of hospital visits for alcohol-related disorders — such as alcohol poisoning, alcohol withdrawal and alcohol-induced sleep disorders — in New York state. “We found that there was an almost linear relationship between temperature increases and alcohol-related disorder hospital admissions and visits,” said Robbie Parks, an environmental epidemiologist at Columbia University and the lead author of the study.

The researchers also found associations between temperature and hospitalizations related to cannabis, cocaine, opioids, and sedative use — a result that was felt most acutely in the suburban and rural areas outside of New York City. But the connection between hospitalizations related to alcohol use and temperature was the most “robust” in the study, Parks said. 

A growing body of research that shows Americans have become increasingly reliant on drugs, especially opioids, and alcohol over the past few decades. There has been a fivefold increase in overdose deaths in the United States since the turn of the century. This trend could be made even worse “with rising temperatures under climate change,” the study’s authors write.

By looking at hospital admission records and comparing them to weather data over the course of three decades between 1995 and 2014, the researchers figured out how short-term spikes in temperature over the course of a few days affect hospital admission rates related to substance use. 

Even a slight increase in temperature, say from 15 degrees Fahrenheit one week to 20 degrees F the next week, or from 60 to 65 degrees F, led to more hospitalizations for substance use. That trend held strong from negative 22 degrees F all the way up to 86 degrees F — the full range of daily average temperatures across New York state between 1995 and 2014. 

“It’s not just seasonal,” Parks said. “If today was 5 degrees hotter than this time last week or this time next week, we would expect more hospital visits for alcohol and substance disorders.”

Daily average temperatures in New York have risen 3 degrees F statewide since 1970 and are expected to rise another 3 degrees F by 2080, due to the warming effects of fossil fuel combustion. This trend has contributed to the short-term temperature fluctuations Parks and his team compared against local hospitalization rates in their study. 

Previous research has shown that temperature fluctuations can influence drug use in the United States and overseas, but this study is among the first to look at different types of drugs and find that climate change is linked to spikes in hospital admissions for alcohol-related disorders in the U.S., specifically. Parks and his team found that the pattern was near-universal across the demographic characteristics they looked at, which included age, sex, and social vulnerability (an umbrella term for socioeconomic and minority status). The study controlled for seasonal variations in alcohol use, such as peoples’ tendency to drink more during the winter holidays and summer months. 

“This is obviously relevant in the context of climate change, where we’re anticipating hotter average temperatures, including more frequent and severe heat waves,” said Francis Vergunst, an associate professor at the University of Oslo who has researched the effects of climate change on behavioral disorders and was not involved in the Columbia study. “That means there will be more days in which people potentially could be using substances at harmful levels that could require hospital admission.” 

Though it’s not entirely clear why rising temperatures lead to more hospitalizations for substance use, Vergunst said researchers have some ideas about what may be behind the trend. One possible explanation is that people are more impulsive and uninhibited during periods of elevated heat, which leads them to drink more and consume more drugs. For some types of drugs, such as opioids, warm weather can diminish the perceived effects of the drug and lead people to take higher doses to get to their desired level of inebriation, which in turn could contribute to more hospital admissions for overdoses. Drinking alcohol, popularly thought to raise the body’s internal temperature, actually destabilizes the body’s ability to regulate its core temperature, which could also contribute to hospitalizations during periods of elevated heat. 

“I think it’s really important to start understanding what those underlying factors are,” Vergunst said, “because that could be the primary potential intervention point.” In other words, understanding what causes people to consume more drugs as temperatures warm will be crucial to preventing them from ending up in the hospital because of an overdose or some other substance-related condition.  

The study doesn’t make projections about how future warming due to climate change may influence the prevalence of hospital admissions for substance use, and Parks warned against extrapolating New York’s data to the rest of the country. More research needs to be done to figure out how people living in the United States’ many various and distinct climates respond to rising temperatures. But Parks said that the study hints at the possibility of a larger trend that needs to be investigated. It’s a starting point for beginning to understand how climate change may influence substance use across the nation and elsewhere. 

“New York is the fourth-largest state in the country, one of the most diverse, one of the most extreme in terms of socio-demographic profile,” Parks said. “You might surmise, though cautiously, that this would be an issue across the U.S. and worldwide.”

Grist is a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of climate solutions and a just future. Learn more at Grist.org

The post How climate change is fueling alcohol-related hospitalizations appeared first on Salon.com.

The market for these products is projected to continue growing at a faster rate than alcoholic beverages.

This boom has been driven by production improvements that mean non-alcoholic products taste similar to their alcoholic inspirations. There have also been generational trends towards being more mindful of the amount of alcohol consumed.

Zero-alcohol products do not cause the physical harms associated with alcohol. But they are not without risk and may not be as healthy as they seem. Our new research explains why.

A lack of regulation

A World Health Organization report released earlier this year highlighted the limitations in evidence for the benefits of no- and low-alcohol beverages (which the WHO calls “NoLos”) and the overall lack of policy and regulation in the industry. The absence of oversight may mean potential harms associated with zero-alcohol products go unrecognised.

Although replacing alcohol drinks with zero-alcohol products might be used as part of an effort to cut down on drinking, there is a lack of rigorous research to support this. And the approach may not be suitable for everyone.

A review of ten studies found people with an alcohol use disorder (including addiction to alcohol, problematic or heavy drinking), experience increased cravings for alcohol when they consume zero-alcohol products. They also display physiological responses similar to those that occur when drinking alcohol such as increased heart rate and sweating.

It’s not just about the alcohol

The substitution of alcohol for zero-alcohol products does not address social, environmental and cultural factors. These often influence drinking behavior. This is particularly relevant in Australia where drinking alcohol is normalised and encouraged.

For young people, zero-alcohol products could serve as a gateway for drinking and send a message underage drinking is acceptable. This sets up the potential for early alcohol initiation and risky drinking practices.

Zero-alcohol products are manufactured and packaged to look just like existing alcohol products. Many carry the same company branding as the alcoholic version, which blurs the lines between the two offerings.

‘Alibi marketing’

In Australia, zero-alcohol drinks are subject to food rather than liquor licensing legislation. This means there are less restrictions to where and how they are displayed and marketed.

Such products are found on supermarket shelves and in convenience stores and advertised in a way that appears to promote the consumption of alcohol in risky and illegal situations, such as drinking before driving. This may lead to confusing messages that present drinking as harmless fun.

This is a form of “alibi marketing”. This form of marketing uses features synonymous with a brand — things like label colours, bottle shape or font design — while not advertising the product itself. The alcohol industry can use this strategy to extend the promotion of their brand to populations and places where alcohol advertising may be restricted. For instance, the reverse approach was recently used by a company to market an alcoholic version of soft drink, highlighting the risk of this approach for minors.  

This is amongst broader concerns this form of marketing increases brand familiarity and awareness of alcohol products among those who are underage now but may drink in the future.

Studies have found exposure to marketing and advertising of zero-alcohol products results in increased intention and odds of purchasing and consuming alcohol drinks. Further research is needed to understand potential harms exposure to and drinking zero-alcohol products may have on vulnerable populations. This includes those with a history of alcohol addiction and children.

4 tips to minimize risks now

There are some actions you can take and considerations to keep in mind when it comes to zero-alcohol drinks:

• be aware zero-alcohol products may act as a drinking trigger or cue for those with experience of alcohol addiction and for young people
• if you want to stop or cut back on drinking alcohol, don’t substitute products that mimic the taste or appearance of alcoholic drinks. Go for soft drinks, fruit juices or sparkling water
• report advertisements and marketing for zero-alcohol products that are inappropriate or could cause harm by lodging a complaint via Ad Standards
• join the community push for zero-alcohol products to be subjected to the same regulations as alcoholic products.

Shalini Arunogiri, Addiction Psychiatrist, Senior Lecturer, Monash University and Anthony Hew, Addiction and General Psychiatrist, PhD Candidate, Monash University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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But for a whiskey to be called a bourbon, it has to adhere to very specific rules. For one, it needs to be made in the U.S. or a U.S. territory — although almost all is made in Kentucky. The other rules have more to do with the steps to make it — how much corn is in the grain mixture, the aging process and the alcohol proof.

I’m a bourbon researcher and chemistry professor who teaches classes on fermentation and I’m a bourbon connoisseur myself. The complex science behind this aromatic beverage reveals why there are so many distinct bourbons, despite the strict rules around its manufacture.

The mash bill

All whiskeys have what’s called a mash bill. The mash bill refers to the recipe of grains that makes up the spirit’s flavor foundation. To be classified as bourbon, a spirit’s mash bill must have at least 51% corn — the corn gives it that characteristic sweetness.

Almost all bourbons also have malted barley, which lends a nutty, smoky flavor and provides enzymes that turn starches into sugars later in the production process.

Many distillers also use rye and wheat to flavor their bourbons. Rye makes the bourbon spicy, while wheat produces a softer, sweeter flavor. Others might use grains like rice or quinoa — but each grain chosen and the amount of each, affects the flavor down the line.

The chemistry of yeast

Once distillers grind the grains from the mash bill and mix them with heated water, they add yeast to the mash. This process is called “pitching the yeast.” The yeast consumes sugars and produces ethyl alcohol and carbon dioxide as byproducts during the process called fermentation — that’s how the bourbon becomes alcoholic.

The fermented mash is now called “beer.” While similar in structure and taste to the beer you might buy in a six-pack, this product still has a way to go before it reaches its final form.

Yeast fermentation yields other byproducts besides alcohol and carbon dioxide, including flavor compounds called congeners. Congeners can be esters, which produce a fruity or floral flavor, or complex alcohols, which can taste strong and aromatic.

The longer the fermentation period, the longer the yeast has to create more flavorful byproducts, which enhances the complexity of the spirit’s final taste. And different yeasts produce different amounts of congeners.

Separating the fermentation products

During distillation, distillers separate the alcohol and congeners from the fermented mash of grains, resulting in a liquid spirit. To do this, they use pot or column stills, which are large kettles or columns, respectively, often made at least partially of copper. These stills heat the beer and any congeners that have a boiling point of less than 350 degrees Fahrenheit (176 degrees Celsius) to form a vapor.

The type of still will influence the beverages’ final flavor, because pot stills often do not separate the congeners as precisely as column stills do. Pot stills result in a spirit that often contains a more complex mixture of congeners.

The desired vapors that exit the still are condensed back to liquid form and this product is called the distillate.

Different chemical compounds have different boiling points, so distillers can separate the different chemicals by collecting the distillate at different temperatures. So in the case of the pot still, as the kettle is heated, chemicals that have lower boiling points are collected first. As the kettle heats further, chemicals with higher boiling points vaporize and then are condensed and collected.

By the end of the distillation process with a pot still, the distillate has been divided into a few fractions. One of these fractions is called the “hearts,” containing mostly ethanol and water, but also small amounts of congeners, which play a big role in the final flavor of the product.

The alchemy of time and wood

After distillation, the “hearts” fraction (which is clear and resembles water) is placed in a charred oak barrel for the aging process. Here, the bourbon interacts with chemicals in the barrel’s wood and about 70% of the bourbon’s final flavor is determined by this step. The bourbon gets all its amber color during the aging process.

Bourbon may rest in the barrel for several years. During the summer, when the temperature is hot, the distillate can pass through the inner charred layer of the barrel. The charred wood acts like a filter and strains out some of the chemicals before the distillate seeps into the wood. These chemicals bind to the charred layer and do not release, kind of like a water filter.

Under the charred layer of the barrel is a “red line,” a layer where the oak was toasted during the charring process of making the barrel. The toasting process breaks down starch and other polymers, called lignins and tannins, in the oak.

When the distillate seeps to the red-line layer, it dissolves the sugars in the barrel, as well as lignin byproducts and tannins.

During the cold winter months, the distillate retreats back into the barrel, but it takes with it these sugars, tannins and lignin byproducts from the wood, which enhance the flavors. If you disassemble a barrel after it has aged bourbon, you can see a “solvent line,” which shows how far into the wood the distillate penetrated. The type of oak barrel can have a profound effect on the final taste, along with the barrel’s size and how charred it is.

For most distilleries, barrels are stored in large buildings called rickhouses. Ethyl alcohol and water in the distillate evaporate out of the barrel and the humidity in that part of the rickhouse plays a big role.

Lower humidity often leads to higher-proof bourbon, as more water than ethanol leaves the barrel. In addition, air enters the barrel and oxygen from the air reacts with some of the chemicals in the bourbon, creating new flavor chemicals. These reactions tend to soften the taste of the final product.

There are thousands of bourbons on the market and they can be distinguished by their unique flavors and aromas. The variety of brands reflects the many choices that distillers make on the mash bill, fermentation and distillation conditions and aging process. No two bourbons are quite the same.

Michael W. Crowder, Professor of Chemistry and Biochemistry, Miami University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post The complex chemistry behind America’s spirit — how bourbon gets its distinctive taste and color appeared first on Salon.com.

I think she wanted to be like our Grandma Bah, her maternal grandmother (my great-grandmother), whom she absolutely adored and was the only person who smoked in our family. Grandma Bah cussed, smoked, drank lots of Coca-Cola and was unorthodox in countless ways, but she was not known as a drinker.

I don’t know what it was that made mom feel like having a drink was edgy and rebellious. She even said it: “Have a drink,” like it was this elusive thing that only cool people did. It was certainly outside the norm in our household. It was also the late 70s, a lot was happening and I’m sure she felt far removed from all she saw on the evening news while living in our small, Mississippi town on the outskirts of Mobile, Alabama.

Grandma Bah smoked More cigarettes — they came in a red package and I remember seeing my mother happily puffing on one of those long, skinny, dark brown things. Unlike Grandma Bah, the consummate smoker she was, mom held her cigarette awkwardly, rigidly and totally unnaturally between her perfectly straight first and second fingers, its tip aglow; but she loved it! All she she did was fill her mouth with smoke and blow it out, but that was enough. She was smoking. Those two would laugh, tell stories and cut up til close to sunrise. It was something to witness. 

Fast forward to the mid-80s and my mother finally found her drink . . . the White Russian. Thankfully, mom never did develop a real taste for alcohol, but once she discovered the White Russian, that’s what she would order when we went out to a restaurant.

She was thrilled when she found this recipe and shared it with everyone she knew. Soon she began bottling up her brew in adorable little bottles she found in vintage shops and antique stores that she cleaned up and affixed with handmade labels. Like so many things she made, the packaging became as lovely as the contents.  

For the longest time, I kept a bottle or two of her homemade Kahlua on hand in my liquor cabinet. If stored properly, it keeps indefinitely, so I was rarely without. At some point, though, my home-brew making fell by the wayside and I think it is time to bring it back. We are now coming in to the peak weeks of hurricane season, so what better time to have some stashed away for ourselves and to share with neighbors. It is the simplest thing to make and people really do love it.

Everything is better homemade, right? Well, most things, anyway . . .

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More than the taste of this homemade Kahlua, it is the making of it  that I remember most. There is no telling how many gallons mom and I made together, bottled and gave away over the years. I have great memories of us laughing until we could hardly catch our breath during our many mishaps made mostly while trying to pour our concoction into whatever precious bottles my mother had found and wanted to use. Sticky messes, the aroma of coffee permeating the house, planning the next thing we would do, sharing the work of cleaning up while also casually sharing what was on your minds — there is just something about kitchen time, about creating something delicious together.   

Now is the perfect time to make this Kahlua, especially with the holidays arriving before you know it. You won’t believe how much you like Kahlua once you have this homemade version on hand and with a little effort (finding the right sized bottles) and artistic flair (make cute labels for said bottles), your holiday gifts will be in the bag before Thanksgiving.   

The post This 4-ingredient family recipe for homemade Kahlua takes hardly any time — and makes a perfect gift appeared first on Salon.com.