A Case For Revised Drinking Hours In N.Z.

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31161, 10 September 1966, Page 5

A Case For Revised Drinking Hours In N.Z.

(Specially written for “The Press” by ROGER LASCELLES)

JJURING August, a rather emotive battle was waged in the correspondence columns of “The Press” on the old and controversial question of licensing hours..

So it may be of interest to readers to have comment on this running sore of the New Zealand social scene from one who has now lived in London for more than two years and who can thus claim to have had reasonable experience of the system widely advocated for adoption by New Zealand. It would be proper to state a personal attitude to this question as a preamble to the points I shall deal with.

I enjoy moderate beer drinking in congenial surroundings. I abhor drunkenness and 1 do not hold with opening bars at 9 a.m., save in special circumstances when special licences could, of course, be issued.

I believe myself to be one of the majority of New Zealanders who would like to see a revision of New Zealand licensing hours.

If, as I believe to be the case, there is general and widespread disapproval of our present 9 a.m.-6 p.m. hours, then obviously we must look to alternatives. There are some citizens who favour 24-hour “round the clock” drinking. I do not. The abrupt change would turn New Zealand into a Barbary Coast.

There are other citizens who favour prohibition. I do not. It would encourage crime, jeopardise tourism and turn New Zealand into a wowserland that would be simultaneously the pity and laughing stock of the world.

I favour the middle course —selected hours of widespread appeal.

Staggered Hours

Private polls in recent years though differing slightly in result, point unanimously to the public wish for a staggered licensing daj’ divided into three periods—lunch-time hours, late-afternoon hours and evening hours. These hours might, in loose terms be said to be 11 a.m.3 p.m.; 4 p.m.-6 p.m.: 7 p.m.10 p.m.: They total nine hours a day—the same as at present. The breaks disrupt the professional drinkers and give publicans a chance of a breather for cleaning and stock adjustments. I am not suggesting these hours are perfection, not by any means. But I do suggest they would, if tried for say six to 12 months, give us the experience and information we would need to make further changes.

“Rigged” Poll

Some people might want 11.30 a.m.-2 p.m.; 4.30 p.m.10.30 p.m. I wouldn't know. Nor would I want to get involved in arguments over half-hourly extensions or reductions, but I would like to see controlled experiments carried out over a period with what are fairly obviously three popular periods of the day.

A correspondent signing himself “Referendum” referred, truthfully enough, to the referendum of 1949 at which 75.5 per cent voted for 6 p.m. closing. What he did not allude to, and this has been a sore point with many over the intervening years, was the “rigged”

nature of the wording of the question which, from memory read something like: “Do you favour extended hours?”

Omissions

There was no mention of "adjustment” or “modification” to the existing nine hours a day, and many people, rightly or wrongly, had the impression that bar hours would run from 9 a.m. to some late hour of the night without a break.

The following may sound strong words. They are intended to be. For, in my concept of things, this referendum was a farce from start to finish. Further, I suggest that the Government knew it was a farce and acquiesced because of the various vested interests it was facing at the time.

It was worse than this however. It was bad government, government on the run, and it made a cheap mockery of a democratic process the purpose of which is to ascertain the wishes of the people, not to subjugate them with inept words and action.

English Ways

That referendum cost the taxpayer thousands and profited the nation nothing. Hence, for effective purposes, the result of that sorry and shameful effort is of no value in a serious discussion on hours. There has been much discussion in New Zealand as to how staggered hours might affect those employed in the retailing of liquor. First, let me say that things run perfectly smoothly in England with staggered hours. The breaks are used intelligently for cleaning, stocktaking and the hundred and one jobs for which a publican needs time and labour.

Second one will always recruit personnel if the pay is right. Third, who is to dictate the hours? The customer or the vendor?

An aspect of London pubs which must impress all New Zealanders with eyes to see, is the cosy intimacy which the publican usually endeavours to contrive. Moderate lighting, darkish woodwork and ample seating —frequently with dividing walls between tables or sectors of the bar-room.

I have always had a hunch that New Zealand bar operators are restricted either by out-dated legislation or tight fisted owners or both. Suffice it to say that I would much rather drink in the comfort of an average west London pub than in the average New Zealand bar.

I may be the odd man out, but personally I resent having to stand to drink whether it be at a pub or a party, and the squabcovered benches of the average London “local” are infinitely preferable to the standing drinking which is far too prevalent in New Zealand. One seldom finds unoccupied seats when they are provided by thoughtful publicans.

In Back Streets

In the suburb of Kensington there are some 23 pubs. The idea of having to waltz off to the west end or the city for a drink would scarcely arouse wild enthusiasm.

We now have legislation in New Zealand which provides for taverns whose owners may sell liquor without the previously concomitant obligation of renting beds. I suggest this provision should be used more widely and effectively. We do not need a street with a string of pubs, but we could well use some intelligently scattered suburban taverns where people of both sexes might decently congregate' for a drink or two with their friends without having to take a car.

Some of the most pleasant London locals are found up quiet lanes and in other unsuspected places. They are not necessarily lumped in with shops or high traffic volume. Further, mere propinquity does not lead to patronage. Propinquity is admittedly a factor, but so are the brand of beer sold, the facilities—seating, warmth, cleanliness, and service—and the type of patron.

Plenty Of Food

London locals make much of their range of food. At my nearest, one can always buy a wide variety—sandwiches, salads, hot sausages, pasties, pickled onions and chicken. A pub that did not offer at least a modest range would be rated as third-class. These foodstuffs not only bring added profits to the publican, but are a service valued by the customer who is able to avoid just drinking. I am sure the availability of food helps reduce drunkenness and I am sorry that when New Zealand publicans saw fit to stop counterlunches, they failed to make

alternative provision of foodstuffs.

Not everything in a London pub is wonderful. The old-fashioned business of drawing beer by handles instead of lightly pressurised hoses is maddening enough in a busy pub, let alone at one of the exhibitions such as the Motor Show at Earls Court where people can be four deep round the counter. The one thing our six o’clock rush has produced is the fastest method of serving beer in the world short of diving into a vat.

Beer In Barrels

In London much beer is still delivered by the barrel. Many is the time also when I have seen a barmaid immerse the neck of the bottle into the beer she is pouring from it into the glass. Just the sort of conduct that would have our health inspectors jumping mad. I do not care if draught beer is served by pulling on handles in country pubs where time stands still, but in urban pubs the delay is frequently too long. Some English friends say: “‘We don’t want pressurised beer,” but they are already getting it. because the breweries are fitting counter-mounted, valveoperated dispensers to which the beer is fed under pressure. All they lack is the plastic hose. Far from regarding beer delivery by plastic hose as vulgar, I regard it as an efficient, fast method which suits the barman and customer alike. A good New Zealand salesman might well sell the hose system in England. How are we to bring about the change in New Zealand?

The Government will not give a lead—which may be fair enough in the sense that the Government is there to serve the wishes of the people, but which is anything but fair in such a long-standing and vexatious question which is calling for leadership.

9 Hours A Dav

Many thousands of New Zealanders have travelled the world and experienced better hours and systems. Now, I suggest, is the time for these people to get up on their hind legs and start squawking. Far too many are quick to appreciate certain things which may be done more satisfactorily in Europe, yet they subside into silence when they return home. If you cannot use your privilege of travel to better your own community then it would be better for the country to have kept you at home and saved the overseas funds for those who can.

But, equally, there are thousands of New Zealanders who have never left New Zealand, but who are annoyed at the personal inconvenience which our illogical hours bring with them. The fault lies no less with them that the hours have been perpetuated for so long. We do not need “extended” hours for nine hours a day are perfectly adequate if those hours are chosen well, but we do need “revised” or “modified” hours.

The time is rapidly coming when further talk on this issue will be wasted. The situation calls for action by any group of citizens of good will able to give the coherent lead the community needs — starting perhaps with a public meeting and the petition to Parliament which may provoke the Government into long-overdue action.