No, Gen Z Doesn’t Need to Drink More Alcohol

My response to The Free Press article that proposed more booze as a solution

Sep 04, 2024

Diverse group of young people smiling and holding hands — DisobeyArt, Getty Images

One of the most heartening, uplifting trends I’m seeing these days is Gen Zers drinking less alcohol.

Whether they’re drinking less for financial or wellness reasons, or they’re being influenced by sober celebrities, or they’re excited about the alcohol-free beverage scene, or they’re simply finding better, more interesting alternatives, report after report suggests that young people, on average, are drinking way less.

What a monumental shift compared to my and my parents’ generations. What a glorious fuck you to a shockingly pervasive, profoundly harmful, aggressively marketed, collectively accepted addiction.

Four and a half years sober myself—and having chosen to get sober without “things getting bad” or hitting “rock bottom”—I see this trend as a good thing. The more folks choose to not pour a powerfully addictive, proven harmful substance down their throats, the better.

And so, I found it deeply disturbing to come across culture writer Kat Rosenfield’s recent opinion piece in The Free Press, in which she argues that what’s wrong with Gen Z is that they need to be drinking more alcohol.1

The article, which appeared in an esteemed publication with 630,591 subscribers and an even larger readership, asserts that what’ll truly help young people is to stop listening to sober “optimizers,” throw back a few, take more risks, live a little.

After all, today’s young people are experiencing unprecedented rates of mental illness, loneliness, isolation, and despair. Let’s encourage them to drink more of a neurotoxic depressant that massively exacerbates nearly all symptoms of mental illness, dysregulates hormones, and is strongly correlated with violent behaviour, sexual assault, self-harm, suicide, heightened risk of STDs, and unplanned pregnancy. I mean, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?

Obviously, I’m heated. So, let me present excerpts from the original article alongside another perspective (and dispel a few myths) for anyone who hasn’t experienced adult life without alcohol.

Myth 1: Alcohol makes us better and braver.

“Many of our best and bravest moments start with a shot or two of liquid courage. And yet, contemporary narratives about young people and drinking are all markedly and overwhelmingly negative. Optimizers warn that alcohol is an addictive poison, activists cite the link between drinking and sexual assault, and young celebrities who might have once made headlines for partying can instead be found touting the benefits of sobriety.”2

Oof—I think most of you know what I’m about to say next. Many of “our best and bravest moments” do not “start with a shot or two of liquid courage.” Frankly, that assertion leaves me dumbfounded—sometimes a take is so bad it speaks for itself.

If you need to throw back “a shot or two” to do something, that’s not bravery but, rather, its opposite. As I’ve experienced firsthand (and maybe you have, too), choices made and actions taken under the influence of alcohol can lead to excruciatingly painful moments—moments that cause harm to self and others; moments that give rise to regret, guilt, and shame; moments that are decidedly not our best moments!

Know what’s really brave? And really fucking badass? Choosing to express your true feelings to someone while not drinking. Choosing to show up for yourself, others, and life without numbing out. Choosing—amidst tremendous pressure from friends, family, Big Alcohol, and the general collective—to say, “No, thanks. I don’t drink.”

And to those who think it’s a problem that young people are receiving “negative” messages about alcohol? Well, thankfully, more and more of us are realizing such warnings are warranted. Alcohol is a toxic substance with harmful consequences. Spreading the word about those consequences is a problem, how, exactly?

“All of which might explain why, in comparison to millennials and Gen Xers at the same age, Gen Z is legendarily sober. One recent study found that more than 60 percent of them hadn’t had a drink in six months, a trend borne out in the sales data.”

Again, the problem is…?

I don’t know this writer, so what I’m about to say is not directed at her. But something I’ve observed on countless occasions since getting sober is this: The people who have a problem with others quitting alcohol or drinking less alcohol usually have a problematic relationship with alcohol. Pushing others to drink is a giveaway.

Myth 2: Gen Z is sober because they’re full of fear.

Rosenfield goes on to describe what she considers the real reason for Gen Z’s pull towards sobriety and the dark side of non-drinking:

“But scratch the surface of Gen Z’s sobriety, and what you find isn’t wisdom so much as fear—of vulnerability, of failure, of being out of control.
This is a generation that is both highly conflict-averse and virtually allergic to risk, particularly when it comes to markers of autonomous adulthood like driving, working, or sex. The bosses of Gen Z employees report that they can’t make eye contact, take criticism, or even ask questions when they don’t know how to do something. The post-work drink is dead, apparently, thanks to young workers who prefer boundaries to bonding.”

I agree with a few things here. Gen Zers (maybe all of us?) seem to be grappling with a lot of uncertainty, insecurity, and fear these days, especially around failure, being vulnerable, and getting caught being (or appearing) out of control.

And, no doubt, some young people are more shy, unsure, and nervous than others. They have trouble making eye contact, receiving criticism, and asking questions or just generally interacting “in real life” off of the internet. (Though, as a former college dean and instructor, I can assure you this does not include all of Gen Z—many of whom are confident, poised, and articulate.)

However…

Might I suggest that drinking less is not the reason for compromised social skills or fear about how we’re perceived? And that maybe, just maybe, those things have far more to do with young people coming of age affixed to their screens? And existing in a culture (that includes most of us, of all generations) where addiction to phones and devices is normalized? And in-person interactions are increasingly rare? Not to mention the impact of social media. And the fact that some of Gen Z’s most formative years were beset by pandemic restrictions and global upheaval.

Might I also propose that drinking alcohol does not help people connect in an honest, authentic way? But instead fuels superficial, numbed-out, blurred interactions among people who are not fully present and are not bonding with one another so much as bonding over a shared drug of choice?

But, by all means, let’s decry the death of the “post-work drink,” as though there aren’t plenty of other solutions that might actually help, like providing formal and informal mentorship, helping young people develop valuable “soft skills,” encouraging intergenerational collaboration and dialogue, and cultivating a culture of transparency, open communication, and fairness.

Myth 3: The only way to have fun is to drink.

“This inability to tolerate the friction of ordinary interaction, at work or elsewhere, is an obstacle when it comes to connecting with others. But perhaps more importantly, it stands in the way of fun—a thing with which the Zoomers are not well-acquainted.”

Look, I realize and celebrate the benefits of fun, joy, and surrender. It’s just that I believe those benefits come when we have such experiences through connection, not by disconnecting and numbing our feelings.

And, turns out, you can have fun without alcohol! Wild concept, I know. That’s because we’re bombarded by messaging from a trillion-dollar industry that depends on and profits massively from normalized addiction to alcohol. Also because, when you drink alcohol regularly, you forget how to have fun without it. Not just mentally, but physiologically, you rewire your nervous system, endocrine system, and internal reward system.

But set science aside and think back to childhood: Did you need alcohol to have fun as a kid? Nope. And you don’t need it now.

Still, there’s more. Because Rosenfield goes on to assert:

“After all, what could be worse to a cohort of anxious perfectionists than the thought of a substance that first and foremost lowers your inhibitions?
And yet, it’s this quality that has always made alcohol such a fundamental part of social life. Drinking makes it easier to be with people, and to be yourself…”

If that feels true for you, I get it. Most social events are saturated in booze, and many people and corporations are invested in the exact story above. No surprise if we come to believe it.

But I promise, it’s not true! Plenty of folks have a vibrant social life and deep interpersonal connections without drinking.

And, for many of us—including those who didn’t “hit rock bottom” or maybe aren’t even sober: Being around people who are drinking is definitely NOT easier.

Never mind the obvious extremes—the drunken, obnoxious, potentially violent or emotionally abusive behavior. I’m also talking about the glazed look, the lazy speech, the obvious-to-everyone signs that the person drinking is not listening and not fully present.

And/or, if it’s you doing the drinking, there’s waking at 3 a.m., reviewing what you said or texted or emailed or did, feeling moody and lethargic (at best) the day after, dealing with any guilt and shame and consequences, etc. Beyond the first 30 minutes, drinking does not make it easier to be with yourself.3 If we consider the 24-hour cycle, it makes it way harder.

Myth 4: Alcohol is about togetherness.

The writer goes on to wax poetic about how, “stripped of sober self-consciousness, people have been brave, bold, generous, sentimental,” citing examples that range from the signing of the U.S. Constitution to literature. Referring to John Steinbeck’s 1935 novel, Tortilla Flat, she declares:

“this tale of collective inebriation—a snapshot of a social milieu as much as a story of adventure—might be instructive to today’s 18-year-olds.”

As for the potential harm alcohol causes in the short and long-term? To self, others, relationships, and our present and future well-being? She concedes:

“Granted, alcohol is not a 100 percent return on investment. Sometimes, you wake up after a night out drinking having sparked something exciting: a new idea, a new prospect, a new relationship. Other times, you just wake up with a hangover…”
“And while not all the decisions we make after this point are wise, even the unwise ones have a way of revealing a truth we might otherwise have been too afraid to acknowledge: ‘I’m lonely,’ or ‘I love you,’ or ‘I want more from my life than it currently holds.’...
It’s not that young people should drink to excess—or at least, not more than the requisite number of times it takes to learn where the lines of ‘excess’ lie. But if we acknowledge the dangers of alcohol, we should at least acknowledge how glorious it can be. Gen Z could learn to appreciate the disinhibiting effects of alcohol—physical and otherwise—and perhaps also learn to willingly relinquish some control. Because at its best, drinking isn’t really about drunkenness. It’s about togetherness.”

You know what? Years ago, I might’ve agreed with this view.

But now, in the clarity that comes with sobriety, I see it for what it is. I see that this article’s perspective on what life has to offer—and what sort of “risk taking” contributes to a more beautiful, awake, present, connected life—is disturbingly, shockingly, tragically small.

You want to take a real risk? You want to feel the high of putting yourself out there, of trying something new? Do it sober.

I promise, your life will be more full, more vibrant, more exciting if you practice saying “I’m lonely,” or “I love you,” or “I want more from my life than it currently holds” without booze in your system. That’s where connection lies. That’s where self-confidence arises.

Whether you belong to Gen Z or any other generation, let me—let us in sobriety—assure you: You do not need alcohol to take risks, to show up bravely, and to cultivate a joyful, deeply connected life.

I don’t need trends or science or celebrities to tell me this. I don’t need external confirmation to “prove” that something causes me more harm than good. Whether we’re talking about alcohol or any other substance or behavior, I simply look inward and ask:

Does partaking make me feel more confident in a lasting, authentic way?
Does it give rise to quiet pride or secret shame?
Does it feel in line with my values and goals or like a harmful cycle on repeat?
Is it worth the tradeoffs? Not just short-term but long-term? Including all the time, energy, and focus that could’ve, would’ve, should’ve gone elsewhere?
After partaking, how do I feel when falling asleep that night? Or when waking during the night? Come morning, do I wish I’d done more? Like, ever?

And my favorite, most telling question of all:

Does it feel connecting…or disconnecting? As in, connecting to true self, others, and Universe? As in, connecting through true intimacy rather than bonding over a shared drug of choice? As in, connecting to a self and life I whole-heartedly love?

That’s the kind of togetherness I’m after.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

I’d especially love to hear from those who are sober themselves and/or have loved ones who are sober. (As always in this space, you’re invited to share your personal experience; no unsolicited advice, please.)

Do you have fun, connect with others, and/or take courageous, worthwhile risks while not drinking? Tell us about it!
What message do you have for Gen Z or anyone else who wants to live a full, fulfilling life without alcohol?