Grow up, then calm down on boozing

The debris of drinking litters Castle St one Sunday morning. PHOTO: LINDA ROBERTSON
The debris of drinking litters Castle St one Sunday morning. PHOTO: LINDA ROBERTSON
The clamps on alcohol are coming down in studentville.

The DCC has proposed a series of changes to the local alcohol policy which threaten to (not so) drastically change the state of drinking in studentville.

It’s probably about time, to be honest. And even though one of the big changes being touted is the fact that there will be no new off-licences in the area (there hasn’t been one for 10 years) the proposed changes will still pack a punch.

Today I hope to shed some context on how the drinking culture at the university has fundamentally changed and what the continually beating drum of discontent has the capacity to do to the status quo.

Drinking has fundamentally changed in studentville. A quote I got from a member of Hold on to Your Friends, Louisa Mason, in an RNZ article would summarise it best when she states that: "Drinking culture has subsumed student culture".

What Louisa had to say immediately resonated with me. My student experience has been sadly characterised by a trend of competitive drinking, which has permeated through much of studentville .

I mostly began drinking in second year, having stayed at home my first year, and not really knowing what to expect. Our flat of six guys in Leith St was inevitably thrust into the thick of it, with drinking events scheduled for every Friday and Saturday night. It was intense and to a large extent it didn’t fill me with happiness or personal satisfaction.

Every time I picked up a box it felt like a competition. There was so much talk relating to alcohol that we actually forgot to have conversations of any value.

We would play beer-pong all night and hardly leave the flat, all focused on how drunk we were getting above anything else.

Now in my third year I’ve probably drunk more regularly than I did last year, though not quite to the same excess. I’ve learned to drink in a way wherein alcohol isn’t the sole focus, and it’s now just a thing I do when I want to go on a journey.

I feel so blessed to have had this newly positive experience with alcohol but have been left wildly confused by how I approached the substance in my second year.

However, it seems that my second-year experience is now the standard, and that’s not great.

Obviously, there are the more present societal challenges of the issue such as the impact on the city’s health systems, mass property damage and the much-hated glass apocalypse which threatens to overcome Castle St at any moment.

But on an individual psychological level, the way students, particularly second years, drink is not healthy.

So what do the proposed changes to the policy include? Firstly, a solid solution — to limit the opening hours of off-licenses, taking it down a notch from 10pm closing to 9pm closing.

This makes perfect sense and will probably force students to focus less on cramming before the night begins.

Secondly, the aim to tackle alcohol advertising is a noble one but a seriously tricky can of worms. Alcohol advertising is so insidious, so expertly developed, that no matter what you do there will be something they figure out to counteract it.

I have a kind of horrified faith in these companies after seeing the whole of studentville so ruthlessly marketed to at the beginning of this year. So yeah, things are being done, but as the OUSA’s oncoming president suggests in a Critic Te Arohi article, it’s not really enough.

Change is coming. This kind of legislative address is the signal of intent which usually has a powerful effect on issues like ours. This, in combination with the work of heaps of (slightly older) students (Hold on to your friends, HOTYF; and Students for Sensible Drug Policy, SSDP), means the message is getting out.

However, it’s the university which needs to play ball. The university of course was heavily involved in the Sophia Crestani inquest and has been a part of the charter established in her memory, yet the institution’s commitment to Sophia is where it ends.

By focusing on that case as the single indicator of alcohol harm in Dunedin, the university narrows its focus.

The death of Sophia was tragic and it has fundamentally impacted the university experience of my generation, yet the challenges continue.

The university needs to take meaningful action to limit the harms of studentville’s drinking culture instead of shaking its fists. Invest further into Ubar, broaden the scope of campus watch, clamp down in the halls of residence, do any of these things to at least aid the progression of change.

And there will be change. I feel like the proposed changes to the local alcohol policy are a way of addressing the problem before it gets out of reach.

The city is making a start, and that is something to commend. Now we just need to support the on-licences to create a viable second option that students can embrace.

Imagine it: heaving student pubs which roar until 3am every night. It would reshape the way everyone now drinks and strip north Dunedin of its most serious harms.

One can only hope that the good faith efforts of those higher up will continue in earnest, creating an environment where student culture flourishes, not drinking culture.

— Hugh Askerud is a 20-year-old local and student at the University of Otago, majoring in politics and religious studies.