Affluent and socially tolerant, Copenhagen seems an unlikely candidate for an alcohol crisis among its young people. In an extract from his new book about the difficulties of giving up drink in Ireland, BRIAN O'CONNELLvisits the Danish capital to see what we can learn from its problems
COPENHAGEN, THE CITY of the Little Mermaid and Tivoli Gardens has, on the surface, a carefree attitude, with locals and tourists taking advantage of the pedestrian streets and public parks that inhabit the city centre.
Yet hang around a while and a different scene emerges, with the city’s open spaces colonised by hordes of drunken youths, making them no-go areas for locals after dark. Despite its affluence and relatively low levels of social inequality, Denmark is facing an alcohol abuse crisis, with its young, to borrow a phrase, “probably” some of the worst alcohol abusers on the continent.
"We are the country of Tuborg and Carlsberg, and images of these products are everywhere," said Dr Pernille Due, a researcher at the University of Copenhagen. "I went to see Harry Potter– the audience was mostly children – and there was advertising for Smirnoff and Tuborg. Denmark stands out when it comes to problem drinking, but there is not a strong will on the part of government to handle this problem."
MUCH LIKE THEGuinness St James's Gate site in Dublin, the Carlsberg brewery occupies a large chunk of central Copenhagen.
While the brewing operation has been moved off site in recent years, administration and head offices remain on site, as well as a museum and visitor centre. I’m in the staff canteen, having lunch with Knud Hedeager Nielsen, public affairs manager for Carlsberg Breweries and an influential member of the European drinks lobby.
Staff are allowed have beer with their daily meals, and a large fridge area carries an assortment of Carlsberg products, from specialist brews to regular beer. Of the 30 staff having lunch, perhaps one third are drinking alcohol. For any of them who get too dependent on liquid lunches, the company has a comprehensive alcohol treatment programme available to employees, which is 100 per cent funded. The free availability of alcohol in the workplace highlighted for me how, despite our shared problems, different cultural attitudes exist across Europe towards the role alcohol plays in society. How would it work for an Irish brewery if drinks were allowed at lunchtime?
In recent years, Carlsberg has had to take a leading role in Danish society in tackling issues of alcohol misuse. The manner in which it has done this, and its efforts to lead the way, are interesting when held alongside efforts by the Irish drinks industry to do the same. “I think it became evident to us almost a decade ago that we also needed to play a role in the efforts to help reduce misuse,” says Knud Hedeager Nielsen. “In 2000 we defined our position in relation to these matters. There is a lot more acceptance now of companies being involved in corporate social responsibility-related issues. There is an expectation among public and politicians that companies should take a greater role on social issues.’
The manner in which Carlsberg tackles the issue of abuse is to focus on targeted activities. The company funds specific programmes, and says it is wary of getting involved in cosmetic projects which have little impact on the ground. It is wary also of political manoeuvring for public relations purposes, often used across Europe, it says, by various different political parties. “We see and we believe, unfortunately, that to tackle misuse politicians tend to go for the easy option in the public eye,” adds Mr Nielsen.
“We think that is unfortunate, because too much of that is without any behavioural impact and does not really address the issue of reducing harm caused by misuse. For example, there is a lot of good legislation already, but the enforcement of this legislation is, we believe, inadequate. You can always add further restrictions, you can add higher age limits, you can introduce bans on advertising, and it’s what I would call signal policies. But, unfortunately, these have very little impact.”
Carlsberg, like Diageo, does not believe that health warnings and advertising restrictions have an impact on problem drinkers. One of Mr Nielsen’s big bugbears is being forced to place warning labels on products for specific types of drinkers, and he picks up a bottle with a label to illustrate his point. He highlights the area of women drinking while pregnant, and says that the focus should be on involving frontline medical staff in educating about the dangers. “The targeted approach is for us the most effective. Take the issue of pregnant women and drinking. Now, when you look at the label and legislators decide to put a pregnant woman with a cross over to indicate, ‘If you’re pregnant don’t drink this’, do people really believe this has an impact? Again, research has produced ample evidence it has no behavioural impact. The excuse from the anti-alcohol lobby and politicians is that, yeah, maybe, but it raises awareness. But again, there is no long-term impact of such measures. What it does have is a tremendous cost impact for the industry to add these warnings to their product. It makes it difficult for cross-border trading and so on. If it worked, then fine, but it doesn’t work, so why bother industry and our cost base with these initiatives?”
One of the ways in which Carlsberg and the public health lobby in Denmark work together is for the drinks company to provide information packs directly to medical staff, so that those on the frontline of the health service can speak with authority to patients.
“So, for instance, instead of a drinks company telling . . . pregnant women the best way to drink, it’s the doctor or midwife.”
This type of approach works when it is a complementary support to already established protocols, but if it gets to the stage where the stakeholders in the health sector are reliant on the drinks industry to inform patients, then moderate society might as well throw in the towel.
The response currently is a united one from the drinks industry in Denmark, yet that approach is showing signs of strain, with beer and spirits companies destined to adopt different approaches and work independently of each other, thereby undermining the argument for self-regulation. It is an admission, in effect, that certain types of alcohol are promoted in different ways and that a united industry response to the problem of alcohol abuse is not entirely satisfactory.
Alcohol advertising was very tightly controlled on Danish airwaves until a decade ago, when laws were relaxed. Carlsberg argues that drinking levels have remained unchanged since then. It also feels the EU is fixated on introducing tougher measures which are unjustifiable. “This is now a huge debate within the EU,” says Mr Nielsen. “They will come out with a report shortly looking into alcohol’s impact on consumption and misuse. Unfortunately it is not a balanced report; we have seen some of the conclusions already. It is influenced by a political agenda. It is saying, yes, there is a strong indication that advertising has a huge impact on behaviour. We don’t see it this way.”
This is a typical drinks industry response to the advertising debate. But if advertising doesn’t have a large impact on behaviour, then it sort of begs the question of why Carlsberg had a €11.6 million advertisement budget for the last World Cup alone?
IT'S FRIDAY NIGHTin central Copenhagen, and I'm standing outside a teenage disco. On the ground near me is a 14-year-old girl who is vomiting repeatedly. She is wearing high heels and a pair of hot-pants. It's minus 2 degrees.
Her hand is bleeding following a fall, and two of her friends hold her hair back from her face. Several drunk and loudmouthed teenage boys, like crows pecking at a milk bottle, gather round. From the basement disco, other teenagers are led outside to get air and sober up. Inside, roughly half the teenagers present are drunk, despite the fact that the club sells 1 per cent alcohol in an attempt to promote low-alcohol alternatives. Up until two years ago, there was no age limit on buying alcohol in off-licence premises in Denmark.
Many of these teenagers will bring a change of clothes with them, changing in public toilets near the La Scala entertainment venue, exposing as much bare flesh as possible without their parents ever knowing. “We tell our parents we go outside to a house with our friends,” one youth tells me.
I’ve tagged along with a Night Ravens group – adults who volunteer to patrol the streets at night and help teenagers who encounter difficulties. Sponsored by Carlsberg and many other leading corporations, including McDonald’s, the programme involves hundreds of adult volunteers patrolling the streets at night in distinctive yellow jackets and offering advice and support to teenagers in need.
They offer taxis home, point out the dangers of excess drinking and help intervene if teenagers are in danger. In 2006, more than 50,000 volunteers gave their time to the programme in Denmark, and about 45 per cent of the overall budget is provided directly by Carlsberg. “We generally try to avoid government funding,” says Night Ravens founder Eric Thorsted. “As well as the night-time work we also work primarily in disadvantaged areas with families, where we help with parenting skills.”
All the kids seem to have respect for the Night Raven workers, cemented, of course, by the free sweets and condoms the workers hand out.
As we wait, young kids continue to limp, stumble and crawl out of the teenage disco, all bare-chested bravado, smudged mascara and torn tights, as friends try to sober them up in anticipation of the return home. A volunteer says the majority of the blame should rest on parents and not on the children themselves. “When I am wearing the yellow jacket it is a whole different world. It’s a good reaction. Most of the kids need a grown-up to talk with. For many of the young people the parents don’t care. If the parents did care then they wouldn’t allow their kids to run around the streets drinking and yelling and wearing short skirts.”
I wonder how the volunteers react when someone they come across is in a distressed state and requires medical assistance. “We try to get in contact with their family. If they are drunk we call the police or ambulance. When they know we are calling then they come.”
The Night Ravens are, if nothing else, a novel way of patrolling the problem, although finding adults with time to volunteer is their biggest challenge. How many Irish parents would be willing to give up their Friday or Saturday nights in order to hold the hands and hair of drunken teens in Temple Bar?
Although it’s not like they’re queuing up to volunteer in Copenhagen either. “We have only about 25 volunteers in the whole city of Copenhagen,” one of the older volunteers tells me. “We have a lot of parents in the block where I live and I mentioned this to them, and said: ‘Why not come and join us and try it?’ The answers are ‘We don’t have time’ or ‘I have to be home with the kids’ and all that. So it’s very hard getting volunteers in a city.”
Wasted: A Sober Journey Through Drunken Ireland,by Brian O'Connell, is published by Gill Macmillan
