Australia doesn't need to stop drinking, it just has to grow up a little.
ANOTHER month, another killjoy public health campaign. FebFast was alarming enough when it sprang onto the national calendar in 2008. Now there's Dry July, which is much the same concept only this time it rhymes. The point of each being to encourage Australians to be miserable for a month by swearing off drink.
February's 28 days of teetotalism pales against this monster month of July 2011 with its five Fridays, five Saturdays and five Sundays all meant to be faced without the aid of alcohol. Five sober weekends in a row must be what death feels like.
This 21st-century temperance drive has been hatched by a self-described online social community that dares Australians to commit to a month-long sponsored abstinence from alcohol. All funds raised go to worthy charities, which is wise because otherwise no one could possibly see the point in staying sober so long.
"Our vision is to make Dry July the standout campaign of the calendar year where not consuming alcohol is considered the 'thing to do'," the website declares. And once they've achieved that, what next? Ban television? Censor the internet (if Stephen Conroy doesn't beat them to it)? Discourage laughter?
Dry July's cheerful rallying cry of "Clear Your Head, Make a Difference" is devious and misleading. It camouflages the inevitable pain of withdrawal, the diminished sense of self and the yawning emptiness of life without alcohol. It should be called Joyless July or Forlorn July, not Dry July.
FebFast has a similar shtick, asking Australians to "imagine what 28 alcohol-free days can do for your waistline, your wallet and your liver". It's unlikely anyone ever imagines their liver.
Health insurer MBF, a key sponsor, suggests taking a month off the bottle will make you "a nicer person to be around". Rubbish. I'm much nicer to be around when I'm tipsy.
The new push for sobriety seems to be tapping into a national shame or embarrassment about how much we like a drink. And of course we do like a drink - the Australian capacity to hold liquor is world renowned. It's part of our DNA in a country that, according to Tim Flannery in The Birth of Sydney, celebrated its 10th day of European settlement with a rum-fuelled orgy in a biblical thunderstorm.
We haven't changed so much since that blowout in February 1788. Bob Hawke, our most popular prime minister of recent times, was admired perhaps less for his politics than for setting a world speed record for beer drinking (2? pints in 11 seconds) while at university. Legend.
Kevin Rudd's political stocks never soared higher than when he confessed to getting smashed and visiting a strip club while in New York on UN business. And we're repeatedly transfixed by the foibles of sporting heroes, TV personalities and Brendan Fevolas who get wasted and behave shamefully. They make us feel better about our own failings.
With the exception perhaps of the AFL, most people recognise excessive drinking is A Bad Thing and try to keep a lid on it. Apparently that's not enough. Dry July's evangelist founder, Brett McDonald, says his aim is for it to "make a real difference, providing experiences, hope, support, treatment, therapy, encouragement, prolonged life, lasting memories and fulfilment".
It's the sort of creed you might expect from some austere religious order, except austere religious orders like a drink as much as the next bloke. I regularly give thanks to the Trappists for their lovely ales, the Franciscans for Frangelico and the winemaking monk Dom Perignon for the miracle of champagne.
Alcohol can ruin lives, this we know. But it can also significantly enhance them, which is why there are still many more events that encourage alcohol consumption than discourage it. The footy, for example. Six whole months of state-sanctioned weekend boozing. The Melbourne Cup. Christmas. Summer generally.
Australia doesn't need to stop drinking, it just needs to grow up a bit.
As a nation we've had a nihilistic attitude towards alcohol since that wild inauguration party in 1788. We'd do better to follow the lead of European cultures like the French or the Portuguese, who pack away relatively prodigious amounts of grog yet have lower rates of heart disease and alcohol-related illnesses than we do partly because they drink with meals, for enjoyment, rather than just for the sake of it.
Or the Italians, who tackle their first snifter in the late morning and then top up at intervals through the day. They drink frequently but in smaller quantities, which is a genius solution because it allows them to stay pleasantly buzzed all day.
We should have a month-long trial of drinking Italian style and see how we like it. We could call it Awesome August. All proceeds to charity, naturally.
Kendall Hill is a freelance writer.
Frequently Asked Questions about this Article…
What are Dry July and FebFast and how do these month‑long alcohol‑free campaigns work?
Dry July and FebFast are sponsored social campaigns that challenge Australians to give up alcohol for a month. Participants often raise money for charity while abstaining, and the article notes these drives are run as online social communities with corporate or health‑insurer sponsorship to boost fundraising and participation.
Will a campaign like Dry July seriously hurt alcohol company revenues or beer and wine stocks?
The article suggests a one‑month abstinence campaign is unlikely to cause major long‑term damage to alcohol producers. Australia’s strong drinking culture and many events that encourage drinking (footy, Melbourne Cup, holidays) mean any sales dip is likely short‑lived. Everyday investors should view Dry July as a temporary consumer behaviour shift rather than a structural industry threat.
How does Dry July impact charities and not‑for‑profits?
According to the article, funds raised through Dry July go to worthy charities, which is a primary motivation for many participants. For charities, these campaigns can provide meaningful seasonal fundraising and public awareness, even if the broader cultural impact on alcohol consumption is limited.
Why are organisations like health insurers involved in sponsoring alcohol‑free months, and does that matter for investors?
The article points out health insurers (it names MBF as a key sponsor) back these campaigns to promote health messages and gain positive public relations. For investors, sponsorships can be a reputational play for insurers and consumer‑facing companies, but the piece doesn’t indicate direct financial consequences—more of a marketing and corporate‑responsibility angle.
Could Dry July trigger a long‑term cultural change in Australian drinking habits that investors should watch?
The article is sceptical that Dry July alone will spark a deep cultural shift. It argues Australia’s drinking habits are entrenched and tied to social events and traditions. While the founder Brett McDonald has ambitious aims for the campaign, the article treats long‑term change as unlikely without broader shifts in behaviour.
Which sectors might see short‑term effects from month‑long sobriety campaigns?
The most directly exposed sectors are alcohol producers, pubs, bars and hospitality businesses—areas tied to discretionary spending. The article highlights that many events still encourage drinking, so any impact is likely seasonal and temporary rather than permanent.
Are there alternative drinking patterns mentioned that could influence consumer preferences over time?
Yes. The author suggests European or Italian styles of drinking—consuming alcohol with meals and in smaller quantities more frequently—could be healthier and change consumption patterns if adopted. Such a shift would affect product mix and timing of purchases, but the article frames it as a cultural suggestion rather than an imminent trend.
How should everyday investors interpret campaigns like Dry July when making investment decisions?
The article implies investors should keep perspective: treat Dry July as a charitable, short‑term event rather than a catalyst for industry upheaval. Focus on long‑term fundamentals of alcohol, hospitality and consumer stocks, watch for sustained changes in consumer behaviour or regulation, and note that sponsorships and public‑health messaging can influence brand perception even if sales effects are limited.
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