I’m taking an on-line course on World Cinema through a very pandemic start-up called BuzzClub where we watch a movie before “class” and then discuss it in a Zoom session. Right up my alley. Recently we watched and the discussed the Danish movie, Another Round, starring Mads Mikkelson, which won the 2020 Oscar for Best International Feature Film. I recommend it. It has great characters, an interesting story line, and is both funny and poignant. It also made me think, and what better can you say about a movie.
The story centers on four high school teachers who are, to put it mildly, in a rut. They decide to try an experiment based on a theory by a Norwegian psychiatrist, Finn Skårderud, maintaining that a steady level of alcohol in your system (about two glasses of wine’s worth) brings people up to optimum performance, maximizing personal and professional happiness. Initially things work out pretty well, though, not surprisingly, it’s not that simple.
This film made me think about my lifelong relationship with potent potables. My parents did not drink, and were adamant about the hazards of liquor. Which meant, of course, that as soon as I got out of the house (and a bit before as well) I began indulging. Like most young, stupid kids (that’s redundant, isn’t it?), I overindulged a bit too often, and pretty much kept that up until I got married and had children. Now I’m a comparative teetotaler.
I am fully aware of the dangers of firewater, and the devastation that it can leave in its wake. Yet, I’d be a liar if I said that I regret all that drinking. It was, and still is to a lesser extent, a way to ease social anxiety, bond quickly with new people and take chances that I might otherwise have backed away from. Many close friendships were forged over a beer, or two, etc., etc. Many memorable conversations were interrupted only by another shot of tequila.
In a recent op-ed piece in the Wall Street Journal referenced by Phil Donahue in our class (no, not that Phil Donahue) Edward Slingerland, a Canadian Professor of Philosophy, opines that the desire to consume spirits is part of our evolutionary journey. [I can’t avoid noting the great names I encountered writing this post. Mads Mikkelson. Finn Skårderud. Edward Slingerland. They remind me of the great Eddie Izzard routine where he ponders the meeting where singer Jerry Dorsey, soon to be Engelbert Humperdinck, brainstorms stage names with his handlers, coming up with suggestions like “Zingelbert Bembledack, Tringelbert Wangledack, Slut Bunwalla, Klingybun Fistelvase, Dindlebert Zindledack, Jerry Dorsey, Zengelbert Bingledack, Engelbert Humperdinck, Vingelbert Wingledanck.”]
Anyway, Slingerland’s theory is that since hooch has so many potentially negative consequences, there must be some compensatory evolutionary benefit that makes it so pervasive in human history. He believes that it is alcohol’s enhancement of certain qualities, including those noted above – artistic inspiration, deepened ability to build trust, the willingness to think outside the box – that led us to, almost universally across societies, develop drinking as a social norm. In other words, according to Slingerland, these positive byproducts of booze have been central to the development of civilization.
This is an interesting and unique way to look at the urge to indulge. Maybe drinking is not just a brainless excuse to get out of the humdrum of everyday life, but is also a way to assure that as a species we build alliances we may otherwise have strayed away from, create art that might not have penetrated our thick skulls and take unpredictable chances with significant payoff. It kind of makes imbibing the noble endeavor we wish it was.
That being said, there is a reason why drinking is sometimes referred to as getting stupid. Maybe some moderate consumption enhances certain admirable traits, but anyone who has descended that path knows that before too long alliances that look good can take you down some dark alleys, that creativity becomes sloppy and chaotic, and that there is a thin line between a foolish gamble and a downright boneheaded one. As a wise man once said “Responsible Drinking? Now that’s an Oxymoron”.
General theories, like those of Skårderud and Slingerland, can be very helpful to view the world on a macro level, but they are pretty much useless on an individual basis. Even if Skårderud is right and a consistently low level of alcohol in the system does enhance certain constructive traits (And I do question this. I know that when I did indulge in a drink at lunch all it ever enhanced was my desire to take a nap at my desk), few of us have the self-control to maintain that kind of discipline.
In the same way, even if, as Slingerland argues, we owe some of history’s innovations to a bunch of bombed Babylonians, heavy drinking hardly seems a recipe for the technological and system recasting that we need to survive in an ever more complex and challenged world. I’ve had too many drinks with too many people to put my trust in some engineer who is mapping out the software systems for a Mars launch between shots of bourbon.
I am certainly not going to end this by hypocritically setting out the dangers of drinking. My standing to do that sailed on the Good Ship Guiness long ago. Plus, I never met anyone who wasn’t aware of the problems over-consumption could bring, even if they were on their fourth or fifth gin and tonic. Drinking is not going anywhere. Whether through evolution or not, it is part of who we are, for better or worse. So, enjoy Another Round, with a libation at your elbow if you like, and maybe ponder the above drinking theories. Just don’t take them too seriously.
