Casking for trouble

Since the foundation of CAMRA forty years ago, the world of real ale has never been in better health, yet at the same time faces a serious threat of marginalisation.

How so? Having been rescued from the threat of extinction, Britain’s former national drink risks becoming a niche pursuit. A potentially lucrative one, perhaps even a still-growing one, but one which is partitioned off from the rest of the nation’s drinking habits.

First, the good news. Every year brings several newspaper articles reporting surprisedly on how cask beer is outperforming (again) the rest of the licensed trade and is shedding its image of blah blah blah. All of which is testament to the excellent PR work done by CAMRA but also the genuine resurgence of real ale across the country. Pubs which used not to have a handpump now have one, pubs which had one now frequently have two or three, and new microbreweries seem to appear overnight.

So why the worry? It’s partly occasioned by price. It seems second nature that ale should be cheaper than kegged beer. It always has been, I don't know why, but in my fifteen-odd years in pubs it has always been 10p or 20p cheaper than a pint of ordinary lager. Until now.

See this quote from a few years ago emanating from a spokesman for today’s Wells and Youngs brewery, and note the phrase ‘ultra-premium product’. In branding terms, it means aiming it at the ‘Waitrose market’ rather than the Aldi, or even Tesco, shopper. In real terms, that means ‘more expensive’, and sure enough even a London Pride is now often at least as dear as a Stella.

Ale is now also, and it's not unrelated, fashionable. It's mentioned in one of those articles linked above but the 'real ale demographic' is increasingly young, trendy, urban and comfortably-off. In London, at least, there is a very real danger that beer pubs become distinct from other pubs.

In my area there are a couple of reasonable pubs with a wide selection of cask ales, which are frequented largely by pretty young things in designer glasses with iPads. These places generally have minimalist décor, bare wooden floors, eyecatching wallpaper and second-hand furniture. The beer choice is great, and it's kept well, but there's something missing.

A few yards away are normal pubs (varying in quality from awful to pretty good) with little or no ale, full of the rest of the social demographic of the area: the older, the poorer, the unfashionable, the large local Irish and Afro-Caribbean communities.

Why this distinction? How did our national drink begin to be perceived as the preserve of a minority? What happens if it continues? Will real ale become like opera: once popular, now widely perceived as 'not for the likes of us'?

The blame can't entirely be laid at the pubs' doors: one may claim it's not his fault that other demographic groups don't drink in his pub, while his neighbour might blame the high cost of wholesale ale from her pubco for the lack of it on her bar. While they may bear some responsibility, they are also at the mercy of other factors, such as the beer tie, and wider gentrification trends.

I suppose what it comes down to is the purpose of ale. If it's the drink alone, we might as well stay home with a few bottles, or just hang out at beer festivals in draughty church halls. Surely it's about enjoying one's free time: yes, enjoying the beer but also enjoying hanging around with friends, chances are some of whom will have different tastes in alcohol.

To deal briefly in stereotypes, few people's idea of a perfect pub would be either the Pembury Tavern E8 (with its dozen-or-more handpumps, ideal for tickers) or the Euston Tap NW1 (great for keg craft beer enthusiasts) but...well, you can insert your own favourite.

Not for nothing is the Harp (a wide range of beers, decent but cheap food, great service, comfortable and well decorated surroundings, diverse customer base etc) deservedly CAMRA's national pub of the year 2010/11.
 

A good pub should make everyone welcome, not just those who drink what we think they ought to drink. If my Fosters- or Guinness-drinking friends don't feel welcome somewhere then I'll spend less time and money there myself, however good the beer is. And who wins then?