Навеселе: Как люди хотели устроить пьянку, а построили цивилизацию

by Edward Slingerland, Эдвард Слингерленд

Автор книги, известный психолог-когнитивист Эдвард Слингерленд, предлагает взглянуть на привычные вещи по-новому. Удовольствия и наслаждения, по его мнению, следует рассматривать с точки зрения эволюционной необходимости. Накопив немало интереснейшего материала по истории алкоголя, ученый рисует всеобъемлющую картину взаимоотношений человека и одурманивающих веществ. На протяжении тысячелетий люди проявляли чудеса изобретательности, чтобы добиться заветной цели — получить напиток, который сможет развеселить, облегчить общение и, самое главное, помочь адаптироваться к существованию в непростой среде и справиться со всеми трудностями.

Но если в малых дозах алкоголь — наш помощник и друг, то в больших — заклятый враг и разрушитель. Почему так происходит? Можно ли максимально использовать преимущества одурманивающих веществ, взяв под контроль их жестокие последствия? В легкой, шутливой манере Слингерленд отвечает на эти вопросы. Он увлекает читателя в захватывающее путешествие по прошлому, весело рассказывает о традициях пития в современных обществах, а кроме того, объясняет, как человеку в будущем сделать алкоголь фактором общественного прогресса.

- Расскажет о том, почему алкоголь занимает такое важное место в жизни человека
- Объяснит простым языком, какие механизмы отключают контролирующие функции префронтальной коры головного мозга
- Даст экскурс в далекие времена к разным народам, чтобы поведать о традициях потребления спиртного
- Расскажет об опасных свойствах алкоголя для жизни и здоровья человека

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Science, Anthropology, Psychology, Sociology, Food

479 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 1, 2021

About the author

I'm Distinguished University Scholar and Professor of Philosophy at the University of British Columbia. I work in a lot of academic areas, including early Chinese thought, comparative religion, cognitive science of religion, virtue ethics, cognitive linguistics and science-humanities integration.

My first trade book, Trying Not to Try, was published by Crown/Random House in March 2014. My new book, Drunk: How We Sipped, Danced and Stumbled Our Way to Civilization, is forthcoming from Little, Brown Spark on June 1, 2021. I have also published many academic books, translations, articles and book chapters.

For information about my books, articles, teaching and research, please see my personal website: edwardslingerland.com

Reviews

[Morgan Blackledge · Rating 3 out of 5]

God.

I wrote a lot about this book in my reading notes.

I really wanted to pick it apart.

But in the end.

I don’t think it’s worth it.

So I’ll keep it brief.

Drunk is light on argument.

So it makes the same arguments over and over.

In a nutshell, Slingerland’s arguments for alcohol consumption are:

Intoxication is justification enough, and plus it promotes creativity, bonding, healthy disinhibition, and loosening of the ego via PFC down-regulation.

Additionally:

Slingerland goes to considerable length to discredit a 2018 Lancet article that concluded (all things considered) there are no longterm health benefits to drinking, and no safe levels of alcohol consumption.

I may be biased.

No.

I am extremely biased.

Anyway.

None of these arguments 100% landed for me.

I’ve devoted the entirety of my professional career as a therpaist working with clients with substance use disorders.

I’ve worked with hundreds of alcoholics.

I’ve also devoted the bulk of my doctorate research to understanding the biological psychological and social costs of substance abuse.

Including alcohol (which incidentally is one of the most harmful and dangerous of them all).

When I reflect on the abject misery, tragedy and death I have witnessed.

Like, up close and really personal.

And the enormous body of credible evidence that I have read, which very convincingly demonstrates that alcohol is toxic to your brain and extended nervous system, horrible for your mental health, dangerous and extremely costly in terms of disease, injury and death.

It’s very hard for me to take any of Slingerland’s arguments seriously.

When I was in therapy school we used to say, if it’s not a problem it’s not a problem.

And truly, most people drink and use drugs non-problematically.

So good.

But this book downplays the potential harm in a way that seems ignorant at best, and blatantly irresponsible at worst.

Does the world really need more messages that alcohol is fun, sexy and good for creativity?

Isn’t that what college is for?

Another disclosure: I’m sober.

And all I could think of as Slingerland bloviated on and on about how nothing else compares to the social benefits of drinking was…

Um, fuck you?

On behalf myself and the millions of other highly functional, sociable and creative sober people out there.

This is a big fuck off to that.

Slingerland labors the tiered morality argument.

If anyone still thinks this issue hinges on morality.

It’s time to step into 2021 please.

It’s not a moral issue.

It’s a public health issue.

Plus the book is very repetitive.

Leading me to believe that it was developed in shorter from articles like blog posts or magazine features.

Leading me to also deduce, that these articles probably got a lot of play for the author, and one thing lead to another, and suddenly, this is what the author is know for, so…a book length treatment is the natural outcome. And why start from scratch when you can “up-cycle” all your old blog posts?

To be fair.

Slingerland spends the last few chapters of the book discussing some of the “dark side of alcohol”.

You know?

All that addiction, death and sexual assault stuff?

But ultimately it feels like an afterthought, or worse, a hedge/safeguard against the inevitable criticisms that the book will all but certainly draw (see above).

Anyway.

That’s all the energy I want to devote to this.

3/5 Stars.

Why not 2 or 1 star?

Because the author is likable.

He makes some pretty good points at times.

And the book is well written.

So if you wanna waste your time.

You could do worse.

[David Wineberg · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book extolling the virtues of drunkenness in 2021 had better be unimpeachable. As Edward Slingerland acknowledges, society has turned its back on alcohol, becoming an intolerant prurient shadow of the thousands of years since alcohol was tamed and made part of civil society. His book, Drunk, travels the globe and plumbs history in a multitude of societies to prove its worthiness of our consideration. If not for all the negatives we’ve had drummed into us, it seems it would be an easy case to make. In this upbeat, chatty book, it is our big differentiator and critical to our survival.

The active chemical in alcohol is ethanol, and the yeast in plants makes ethanol to fend off bacteria that compete for the nutritive value of many fruits and vegetables. Man has stretched the limits of fermentation, trying, and succeeding to greater or lesser extents, with everything from grass to potatoes and cactus. If it has green, it can be grog.

Alcohol found its way into human lives even before we adopted agriculture. It was, it seems, a higher priority than even bread, usually thought of as the end of hunting/gathering. Every civilization figured out early how to ferment fruits and vegetables, and drink whatever disgusting fluid resulted, purely for its intoxicating effects. More recently, we have learned to multiply those intoxicating effects through distillation: layering more and more alcohol into brandies, vodkas and such. This has created a selection of alcohol so powerful our ancestors wouldn’t know how to cope with it, and to an unfortunate extent, neither do we.

Alcohol has swung back and forth between sacred and damned, with damned the current fashion. The very word alcohol comes from the Arabic. These days Muslims wouldn’t touch the stuff in accordance with their religion. But even that is a recent change. The Middle East used to do business over alcohol much as everyone else did, with sometimes elaborate rituals, structured events, and mandatory trials before trust and negotiation could take place.

It used to be that everyone drank. For one thing, water was so filthy, it was far safer to drink beer and wine if you had any hope of making it to adulthood. Today, it is just the opposite. No alcohol until well into adulthood because it could kill you (or you could kill someone else).

Religions are full of references to alcohol, and most require it in various ceremonies from the blood of Christ to a glass of wine for Elijah. Jesus’ very first miracle was turning water into wine. Nobody complained.

Slingerland’s longest and best arguments are over bonding and creativity. Strangers bonded over drinks at the local, which does not even exist in North American society any more. If someone stopped drinking, they became suspect, and people guarded what they said around him or her. Drinking beer allowed the locals to speak freely, lower barriers between them, get secrets out in the open where they would do no more harm, and promote agreement.

It was a major de-stressor over ages when there were no other regular distractions. It was both social and therapeutic.

On the creative side, drink produces ideas and collaboration. Slingerland says when a pub finally opened near the campus of his university, the resulting socializing among professors and students led to all kinds of new projects, awards, grants, and recognition. None of it would have happened in the office, the conference room or the hallways.

Much as psychedelics cut off the barriers to connection in the brain, alcohol numbs the prefrontal cortex into submission for a period of time. The prefrontal cortex consists of the frontal lobes above the eyes, the biggest and newest part of the brain. They develop late, in fact last, not fully formed until the age of 21. They then start taking over, organizing thoughts and priorities, restricting connections that are not focused and goal-oriented, and generally killing the child in each of us. Taking temporary control away from the straitlaced grip of the prefrontal cortex is the magic and attraction of alcohol, psychedelic mushrooms and LSD. Wonderfully, the effect is temporary, produces no damage, lasting or otherwise, and has been a blessed relief for all mankind from the very beginning.

Slingerland calls the sum of these factors creative, cultural and communal, and they are present worldwide, fueled by alcohol everywhere. They are the key to differentiating humans from other primates, as well as the key to our success.

Back inside the brain, teenage drunks are the wildest, because they don’t have the regulation provided by a fully developed prefrontal cortex. Nor do they know when to stop. The result is often ugly and sometimes fatal, even if just to the drinker alone. Some societies get this more than others, as age restrictions vary from jurisdiction to jurisdiction.

The book examines the rituals, processes and effects in numerous societies throughout history. The Japanese salary-man is probably the biggest proponent today, getting massively drunk many nights after work, barely making it in the next day. It supposedly builds lifelong friendships and appreciation for who others in the group really are.

Historically, the Vikings seem to be world champions, getting so overwhelmingly drunk they could lose battles. The glorious Beowulf was famous in his own time because he could get stinking drunk without killing any of his friends. This was a unique and miraculous accomplishment for a Viking, never mind a king.

Alcohol consumption today is mutating, and not necessarily for the better. It used to require a trip to a place. Now homes are stocked with vast quantities and varieties, totally unknown in past civilizations. No one drank at home; it was a social lubricator. No one drank alone; it was a community facilitator. No one simply imbibed alcohol. It was an accompaniment to food. The key to drinking in the famously alcoholic countries of southern Europe is that the wine went with the food and not an evening boozing. Getting drunk at home, alone without a great meal would make no sense to most throughout history. Today it is the norm.

And the alcohol is far more powerful now. Man has learned to up the alcohol content of beer to 6% and wine to 15%, when throughout history they were high if they were in the two range. Hard liquor is off the charts.

Slingerland saves the downside to nearly the end. He rushes though the horrors of addictive alcoholism, the killings from drunk driving, and the early deaths from liver damage, and lands on the discrimination. Those who do not drink are not so welcomed into drinking circles. They don’t get the creative, cultural and communal benefits. They are not a part of the in crowd. Can people who don’t drink even be trusted? How much has our civilization lost because these others were excluded when ideas took real shape? To this extent alcohol is not a uniter but a divider.

This may not be a fatal downside to drinking, but it is a factor few talk about. Inequality in boozing holds us back.

Slingerland pleads for more acceptance of alcohol. The evidence he provides is irrefutable. Drink seems irreplaceable. Whether it outweighs the negatives is for society to decide. For Slingerland, “We could not have civilization without intoxication.”

David Wineberg

[Ryan Boissonneault · Rating 4 out of 5]

People love to drink. More specifically, people love to drink or otherwise become intoxicated from all corners of the globe and in virtually every civilization throughout history. This underappreciated human universal—one that has surprisingly been ignored by most scholars—is practically begging for an evolutionary explanation. In philosopher Edward Slingerland’s latest book, we finally get one.

In this humorous and wide-ranging book, Slingerland explores the history, biology, psychology, and sociology of intoxication, and, in particular, the intoxicating effects of alcohol. He notes how, contrary to the popular view that drinking serves no useful evolutionary purpose—the equivalent of our brain hijacking our love for sugar to produce life-span-shortening twinkies—drinking actually facilitates social cooperation, and may even be responsible for the emergence of civilization itself.

The argument is quite extensive, but essentially goes like this: humans are a species of primate—which are in general selfishly individualistic—yet require massive levels of cooperation (found most prominently in insects) to survive, due to our unimpressively weak physical makeup. Thrown into the wild, a single human could never outcompete other animals, but in groups, we dominate the world. Humans have therefore come to occupy a very specific ecological niche that requires three things above all others: creativity, cultural learning, and cooperation.

Slingerland’s contention is that alcohol, along with other intoxicants (but primarily alcohol), works to enhance all three of these human necessities. Combining historical examples with modern research, Slingerland—formally trained in the history of religion and early Chinese thought—demonstrates how alcohol enhances creativity and openness to experience, reduces stress, improves mood, and facilitates cooperation, all by downregulating the prefrontal cortex and temporarily shutting down our overly-analytical minds.

Rather than an evolutionary mistake, then, alcohol is essential to the formation of the types of human bonds and large-scale cooperation necessary for survival. There’s even some evidence, as Slingerland describes, that the human discovery of brewing beer came before the invention of agriculture, for example in Göbekli Tepe. While the reader might sense some exaggeration here—in the absence of beer, agriculture and civilization probably still would have arisen—alcohol is nevertheless a critical social factor that has long been neglected.

This is all great news for wine and beer-lovers everywhere. In the debate over whether or how much we should drink, we can skip the disputes over the existence or not of minor health benefits if the act of becoming intoxicated is the key to the emergence of civilization and to the amplification of all the qualities that most make us human. This has the dual benefit of legitimizing our love for alcohol and also explaining its ubiquitous use.

Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple. While alcohol has its place in the modern world, we would be unwise to ignore its costs. As Slingerland wrote, “The American Centers for Disease Control (CDC) estimates that, from 2006 to 2010, excessive drinking led to 8,000 deaths annually, 2.5 million years of potential life lost, and $249 billion in economic damage.” When we drink alcohol, we are essentially ingesting a poisonous liquid neurotoxin that impairs our cognition, slows our reaction times, diminishes our judgments, and damages our livers, placing us at substantial risk. Weighed against the benefits, there’s some debate as to whether or not it’s all worth it in the end.

But the enormity of these costs only strengthens Slingerland’s main argument; if there were truly no benefits to drinking, biological or cultural evolution would have eliminated the practice long ago. It’s not just that we enjoy drinking for the sake of drinking (although this should count for something), but that the building of social solidarity and the enhancement of creativity are real and extensive benefits of intoxication that we would be equally unwise to ignore.

So, on the side of continued alcohol use is the fact that it is pleasurable, that it reduces stress, and that it is an evolutionarily beneficial way for us to enhance our skills in lateral thinking and social cooperation. On the side of abstinence is all of the associated health problems, risk of dependency, and economic costs of intoxication and excessive drinking. Both sides seem to have a strong case.

But by understanding alcohol’s deeper evolutionary function—and better delineating its benefits—we can not only understand its popularity but also recognize that alcohol is not simply an evil that we’re forced to tolerate, and that responsible, moderate, and social drinking may in fact lead to desirable benefits that far outweigh the costs.

[JPDB23 · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would rate this book as a 4.3 star. I liked its story and the historical significance to the journey of alcohol on our society. The historical facts aligned well with its true meaning to why we enjoy the camaraderie of others in sharing a fine spirit or beer. The history of each elixir was amazing to find out. The stories of the gods, and roots to their beliefs in how alcohol brought people together was interesting.

Nonetheless, as a book written through the pandemic, it needs more evidence besides the influence of a pandemic to cause us to have an increase or decrease in statistics of consumption and abstinence.

Great book for those curious 🧐.

Stay thirsty my friends! 🤓

[Janet Wertman · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sigh. I really wanted to like this. And there were spots where I really did - the author had several lines that had me laughing out loud, gave several stats that were fascinating and that I repeated to my husband. But the entire book can be boiled down to the single point that humans' continued intoxication is not an evolutionary mistake but instead contributes to creativity and social cohesion. Bam. Done. The other 300-odd pages all repeat this basic fact, over and over (and over) again...

[Stven · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author has only one point to make, and he makes it over and over and over for the entire course of the book. Intoxicants can improve human fellowship and creativity. That's it. Maybe there's someone out there whose life is improved by having this point hammered in for 300 pages. Maybe there's someone who only starts to believe it after the 300th citation of another anthropologist, another psychologist, another technician, another historian, another poet. But maybe not. You've heard the expression "piled higher and deeper." That's what's been achieved here.

[Sineala · Rating 2 out of 5]

I don't drink. I have never had a sip of alcohol in my life. Mostly I took a look at my family history and figured that if I ever started, the odds of being able to stop were not super great. So I don't. But I am interested in why other people drink!

This book... is not really the book you want to read to answer that. It's very... evo-psych, I guess, is the genre, and it's pretty light on facts. The thesis of the book is that being drunk led to civilization because drunk people are happy and happy people get along and drunk people are more creative (because lots of programmers like to drink and I guess at a lot of tech companies they can drink on the job) so they can make more discoveries and anyway now that we are happy we can have human civilization. His evidence for this is things like "airlines will still sell you alcohol because they know we would all murder each other if we had to fly sober," which I guess says a lot about his attitude toward air travel. IDK, dude, I just chill and read a book or something.

(Also, I mean, there are drunk people who get Extremely Aggro so I'm not sure "alcohol makes people happy" is a completely airtight thesis because I am definitely not founding a civilization in the middle of a barfight.)

The book ends with a chapter that's basically "here's the chapter my editors made me write on the health risks of alcohol, there are a lot, but I've decided it's not important because most people can drink responsibly," which seems... awfully disingenuous.

So, yeah. Sorry. This one's not great.

[Ms.Manzarek · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hay que estar siempre ebrio. Todo se reduce a eso; es la única cuestión. Para no sentir el horrible peso del Tiempo, que os destroza los hombros doblegándoos hacia el suelo, debéis embriagaros sin cesar.
Pero, ¿de qué? De vino, de poesía o de virtud, como os plazca. Pero embriagaos.

Recomiendo su lectura encarecidamente.
Un verdadero alegato del hedonismo reconectado biológicamente con nuestro espíritu animal y maldito por la conciencia del yo.
¡Bebamos hermanados! Al fin y al cabo, el vino fue un dios y más que nunca lo necesitamos.

Pensándolo un poco, tampoco hay ningún nivel seguro de vivir, pero nadie recomendaría que nos abstuviéramos de ello.

[Ève Leger · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought this book expecting to read some interesting stories about drinking throughout history, but I emerged from this book with a profound respect for how alcohol and other intoxicants have shaped our culture. While I’m not totally convinced of the academic validity of this hypothesis, it certainly opened my eyes to think of booze as something other than just something to get drunk off of. Some arguments were slightly repetitive, but overall, this was an enjoyable read!

[Alexandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fabulously well done and interesting research novel that underscores the idea that all things ought to be studied and understood within both historical and social contexts.

Found my way to this book after reading an article in The Atlantic and while on a personal journey to change/understand my drinking habits. I’ve been critically thinking about my own alcohol assumption after a family member was diagnosed with liver issues despite benign alcohol use for most of their life. This book was illuminating, fun, and critically done.

I appreciated how the author, though obviously an enthusiastic supporter of drinking, took great care to boldly outline and confront the dark sides, down sides, and serious issues (health and social) that can/do arise from drinking/the wrong kind of drinking. I particularly was fascinated by his kong discussion of the role of alcohol in fusing human societies via bridges of open, honest trust, and the analysis that suggested why people who don’t drink are often viewed with hostility or distrust. It helped me understand and gain perspective on why some of my social interactions grow awkward or even resentful when I started declining alcohol in situations where I previously had not.

All in all, the author is a little TOO over the moon about drinking and other hallucinogenic substances for me, but his work is solid and well fleshed out and this book is a really, really educational read that posits great theories, supports them with excellence, and manages to discuss all sides of a thorny issue with aplomb and respect.

[Suncerae · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Good: A solid justification for a drink at the local pub
The Bad: Lacks critical analysis; highly repetitive
The Literary: References to ancient Greece and China

Drawing on multiple fields of research, including archaeology, history, cognitive neuroscience, psychopharmacology, social psychology, literature, and genetics, Drunk explains not only why we like to get drunk, but also why it might be beneficial, and that historically speaking, it might not be an accident.

Slingerland claims that intoxication assists humans with the three C's necessary for civilization: creative, communal, and cultural. In fact, one theory suggests that the transition from hunter/gatherer to localized agriculture is primarily because humans wanted to grow the ingredients for beer or wine. I'm not sure if alcohol was prioritized over food, but I do agree that drinking helps us to let our guard down and be more playful, which can certainly promote community bonding.

Alcohol turns off a certain region of the brain for a specific type of rational thinking, which is fully developed only in adulthood. The imagination for pretend play in which children so readily engage is difficult to access as adults. Alcohol can make it much easier, and it can be delivered in specific quantities and only lasts for a few hours, which Slingerland argues is an advantage over kava, marijuana, psychedelics, or non-drug alternatives like meditation, speaking in tongues, or holotropic breathing.

Despite some of the interesting ideas, many of which ring true for me, this book is a slog. The formula of starting each chapter with the hypothesis, supporting the several bullet points, and thoroughly summarizing by restating, literally rephrasing the same sentences, gets old fast. I very nearly quit the book multiple times because of this. Put on your skimming googles for this one.

Although the last chapter deals with the dark sides of alcohol, it feels tacked on. Consequences of alcoholism or the culture of binge drinking are serious problems and deserve more discussion. The culture of drinking in our modern age requires nuance and moderation, de-stigmatization of sobriety, and a lot more attention to the the science of ingesting potent poisons on a regular basis.

[Richard Thompson · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a lot of fun and had some good insights. It is written in a charming style that doesn't take itself too seriously but also doesn't try to be too cute. The conventional wisdom about alcohol is that of course it is bad for you but that people will drink it anyway no matter what so that you really can't restrict it effectively, and, what the heck, it's fun to drink. Mr. Slingerland goes a good deal deeper than that in his analysis, pointing out ways in which alcohol has useful functions as a social lubricant, a spur for creativity, a device for smoothing over difficult and awkward situations, a facilitator of truth, friendship and sex, and a tool for esctasy and spiritual revelation. He also acknowledges the dark side of excessive drinking - illness, accidents, death, lost productivity, violence, damaged relationships and on and on. But he makes a good case for the idea that surely if the bad outweighed the good we would have either found a way to ban alcohol or we would have had a ban forced upon us by the process of natural selection. His two chief villians are distilled alcohol, which is much more damaging than beer and wine and which he says has not been around long enough for natural selection to adjust for the harm that it causes, and drinking alone, which he says has not been the norm over most of human history but which has become prevalent with the rise of American culture that is derived in turn from northern European drinking cultures that are much more unhealthy than the drinking cultures of lands around the Mediterranean.

[Andrés Astudillo · Rating 5 out of 5]

We need this book. All of us. Who has not enjoyed a moment of pleasure next to company, music, love, and a drink, whether this is a sip of beer or a glass of wine?
I mean, we do not need to become Charles Bukowski to enjoy alcohol, but at least a pint of a spirit to get our vibe up, we've all done that. And, interestingly, alcohol use (and many other types of pre-frontal cortex inhibitors too) have been used throughout all of human history.

The point of the book is simple, dressed as the greek gods Apollo and Dionysus: we have evolutionary reasons to ingest certain substances for creativity to be enhanced (and I'm not even mentioning social bonding, and prevention of war), however, becoming an alcoholic is not a good thing. Jesus Christ multiplied wine. Why did he do that? That was in fact, his first miracle ever. There are ancient texts from China, Egypt and many other cultures (including Gilgamesh) that mention alcohol as an elemental part of the order of civilization. There's also strong evidence for ancient use of alcohol that predates the rise of agriculture.

So, enjoy a few drinks, and as homo sapiens, we need to control the use of it, as any other thing we've done.

Awesome book, there's no way in hell I'll be looking at the same the same way at drinks this time.

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

Was super excited about this bc I find the subject matter very interesting. Unfortunately it is incredibly repetitive. The arguments made aren't bad, and are actually interesting, but unfortunately it's so repetitive that I at times thought I had already read a particular chapter. This book could be 40 pages

[Roy Moran · Rating 4 out of 5]

Edward Slingerland sostiene que el acto de beber por placer, lejos de ser condenable, ha tenido un papel fundamental en la historia de la humanidad. El alcohol, argumenta, no solo ha acompañado el desarrollo de la civilización, sino que ha servido como catalizador cultural y social, facilitando amistades, relaciones de pareja, vínculos comunitarios, negocios e incluso el desarrollo profesional. El autor defiende su valor como herramienta para desinhibirnos y conectar mejor con los demás, recordando que el placer y la convivencia han sido motores de creatividad, cooperación e innovación.

Al mismo tiempo, critica la visión moralista y ascética contemporánea que busca satanizar no solo el alcohol y las drogas, sino casi cualquier fuente de placer, como si el goce en sí mismo fuera un tabú moderno. Su postura resulta interesante porque no cae en una defensa ciega: reconoce los riesgos del alcohol, tanto personales como sociales, y advierte sobre realidades que solemos pasar por alto. Señala, por ejemplo, que nuestra biología nunca estuvo preparada para los destilados de alta graduación, una invención relativamente reciente que intensifica los efectos y peligros de la intoxicación. También enfatiza que el consumo históricamente fue social y ritual, mientras que hoy se da cada vez más en soledad, con consecuencias distintas, y que el alcohol muchas veces no libera, sino que expone y amplifica prejuicios arraigados, como los patriarcales. Su propuesta no es demonizar, sino repensar cómo nos relacionamos con esta sustancia, regular mejor los espacios y las ocasiones de consumo, y garantizar que quienes decidan no beber tampoco se sientan excluidos.

Mi mayor problema con el libro es que la primera mitad resulta muy repetitiva; los mismos argumentos se reiteran hasta el cansancio, lo que dificultó que me atrapara y me obligó a pausarlo varias veces. Además, hacia el final parece insinuar que lo negativo del alcohol nunca es suficiente para cuestionar la centralidad de Dionisio en la vida humana, como si beber fuera inevitable y por tanto necesario.

Aun así, la lectura deja reflexiones valiosas sobre el papel del alcohol en la cultura, el placer y las relaciones humanas. En resumen, un libro estimulante, lleno de debates relevantes y provocadores, aunque pudo haber sido más conciso y con matices más equilibrados.

[Alvin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Slingerland's erudite defense of alcohol consumption draws on history, evolutionary biology, and philosophy. It is witty, scientifically rigorous, and - alas - annoyingly repetitive. (Though one wouldn't know from reading the reviews from militant teetotalers, the book also contains a lengthy discussion of alcohols drawbacks and dangers.) All in all it's a fun read, though it could've been a hundred pages shorter.

[Charlotte Smith · Rating 3 out of 5]

My favorite part was learning that Italian Americans are actually immune to alcoholism.

[Trevor · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was curious to read this “argument for alcohol,” as I stopped drinking three years ago and continue to have mixed feelings about it.*

This book is almost entirely focused on alcohol on a sociological level, and as far as it argues that it ought not to be banned on a society-wide level…okay? I don’t know who is arguing for that. Most compelling is the case that lower ABV beer and wine is what we’re most evolutionarily adapted to and we simply can’t handle liquor. The argument he makes that social drinking leads to more responsible drinking because everyone is looking out for each other is quite frankly delusional.

There are tacit acknowledgments of the harms that are facilitated and enabled in frat parties and out-of-control office parties, but not in a way that sees that as something essential to the culture, more as an unfortunate aberration.

There is a hypothetical unwritten book running alongside this one which I would love to read, about masculinity and power and alcohol in societies. It’s just below the surface the whole way through. Why did all these historical societies run by men need alcohol for bonding and cohesion? Is it because alcohol gives men permission to experience emotions and connection with each other that are seen as weak, taboo, or suspect when sober? Because I would love to work towards a society where men can connect without the emotion-stunting stigmas that can only be overcome by being drunk.

Writing my thoughts out here made me change my review from 3 to 2 stars!



*my feelings are best summed up by Erica Youngren, who wrote “When I drank I was inside a collective experience that I now sit at the edges of, watching. I still have fun but it’s a complex, more solitary joy.”

[Meredith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent blend of anthropology, history, philosophy, and science behind why we drink and what it does for and against us as a species. I've been waiting a long time for a book to approach the topic in this way and it didn't disappoint.

[Daniel Liu · Rating 2 out of 5]

Leaving this one unfinished at 66%.

I really admire Dr. Slingerland but just didn't find the writing here particularly engaging. The premise is quite interesting but repetition, an overreliance on block quotes, jumpy structure, and repetition all detracted from the message.

[Jessica Blitz · Rating 1 out of 5]

Unless you want to read a graduate thesis about the scientific background of alcohol for fun, this is a bad book.

[Whitney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Heading into the holidays, I imagine few of us need further encouragement to pick up a drink. With family drama, delays and other entanglements, a glass of whatever is sometimes all you need to take the edge off. And with Dry January right around the corner, Slingerland makes the case on why drinking in moderation is good for the soul.

Split into five parts, Slingerland discusses the various benefits of alcohol, as well as some cautionary temperance. Starting first with the dawn of civilization, he argues that alcohol, for all it’s pitfalls, is something humans have always sought out. He swings through biology, chemistry, sociology, psychology and just a touch of anthropology to prove the various benefits of alcohol. And to his point, they are numerous. It’s a social lubricant, a bonding agent, creative kick starter and political tool.

But the crux of the book comes in Slingerland’s acknowledgement of the dangers of the same beloved drinks. He clearly outlines the social destruction, health effects, and overconsumption which are the mirror of the benefits. Yet, he makes the crucial argument that most of the negativity comes from the high octane spirits we’ve created in the past few centuries. Launching ourselves from 5% beers and wines to 40% liquors.

Do the positives of drinking outweigh the negatives? Slingerland stands with a cautionary yes. My thoughts land on a ‘depends’. But most importantly, I can’t judge anyones’ consumption other than my own. So, personally, I’ll have another round.

[Cooper Leong · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is making my tab at the Queen Anne go up up up.

[Alex Roitman · Rating 5 out of 5]

ספר שהוא בעצם הרצאה על הבר. חד, חכם מקיף. נשאר כזה גם בבוקר שאחרי.

[James Foster · Rating 5 out of 5]

The thesis of “Drunk: How we Sipped, Danced, and Stumbled Our Way to Civilization”, by Edward Slingerland, is that alcohol incited civilization, rather than the other way around.

The usual alcohol origin story is that the agricultural revolution happened, there was all this grain lying around, some of it went bad, someone ate some of it, felt good, and thought “hey, let’s do that again!”. Drunk points out that there is plenty of evidence of large scale gatherings long before the agricultural revolution. Why? Some artifacts from this era show what surely looks like a drunken frat party. And archeological evidence has found what surely looks like beer vats. Maybe people got together because it was fun to get drunk. That made it FUN to build big monuments.

The other typical origin story is that way back before here were humans (which is obviously before agriculture), our ancestors ate some bad fruit. That made for happy apes, and we’ve never lost the taste since. But, as the book points out, being drunk has all kinds of bad side effects. (Hangover, anyone?) Sure, we have genes to break alcohol down. But they are only partially effective, so the bad stuff happens anyway. If this story were true, why didn’t evolution lead to us losing the taste altogether? Why is drinking still fun?

The book reminds us that there are in fact good things about drinking. In particular, drinking together builds and strengthens social bonds. We still like to toast to “seal the deal”, and cultures look askance on people who say they will do something, but won’t drink with you. Then there’s the stuff about how a little drinking improves creativity, and how it removes some of the sting of everyday existence. And of course, the more I drink the better you look, not to mention that it makes me so much sexier and sophisticated (at least in my own mind). Speaking from personal experience, the most productive moments at professional conferences are often those when we drink with our friends and colleagues.

The book does confront the dark side of drinking. For some people, alcohol causes horrific problems. Families and societies, can be, and are, destroyed by alcohol. The health and economic cost of drink is substantial. Think of liver damage and people staying home to nurse a hangover.

Slingerland points out that the problems are not so much alcohol as two recent plagues: distilling and isolation. Humans have only known how to distill spirits for a few hundred years, a very short time. Distillation can take fermented products, such as those our evolutionary forbearers almost certainly tasted, from a couple percent alcohol by volume to 60% or more. One of my favorite scotch’s is just north of 60%, in fact. Our social systems, not to mention our bodies, are not built to endure that kind of punch. Even with distillation, social structures used to provide an “off switch.” The bouncer could evict a too-rowdy patron. Someone would always take THAT uncle home when he started getting a little too belligerent. But people drink alone a great deal these days, both at home and in bars. There goes the most important regulator of the bad side of drinking.

But Slingerland is also not shy about reminding us WHY we like to drink. It feels good. It’s fun. That simple truth gets lost in all the historic and biological scholarship. And the very idea is anathema to modern Puritans and “sin tax” proponents.

“Drunk” evenhandedly presents the pros and cons of drinking. These days it seems that we hear a lot about the bad stuff and almost nothing about the good stuff. It’s good to be reminded of the good stuff. Creating and sustaining civilization, that’s a pretty good thing. Thanks, booze.

[Lynn · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this book up after I heard it mentioned in a blurb for an article in July/August 2021 Atlantic titled "Drinking Alone" by Kate Julian. I agreed with all of the book except for his main point and primary purpose of writing, which says a lot. He argues that drinking has been a part of human history since before there was history and that it has helped us overcome the vicious side of our primate linage by helping quiet the demands of our prefrontal cortex to unlock creativity, cultural sharing and community. He also explores how social drinking in moderation can increase our happiness and advocates for a style of drinking like that in Italy (home and meal based) while warning against the dangers of distilled liquor and drinking alone, both of which seem to increase problem drinking and alcoholism while not providing any of the positive effects of alcohol. All this is quite interesting and helpful. I also liked how his background in religious history helped him see both drinking and religion as evolutionary advantageous. However, he is also a big fan of ecstasy in human life and believes drugs like alcohol and hallucinogens are a short cut to achieving it. He had meaningful acid trips in college and believes getting totally hammered once in a while is a good idea and worth the negative side effects. I figured out in college that getting drunk was a really bad idea and didn't work for me, and I have have seen tooo many people ruined by drugs ()including a younger brother I buried last year) to view them as positively as he does. As I read the parts of the book that praise overindulgence I kept thinking of that brother and of Brock Turner, the college student whose life was probably ruined when he raped an unconscious girl when they were both totally drunk at a college party (and no, I am not ignoring the terrible damage to the girl.) I think the price of excessive drinking exceeds the benefits.
Read the article instead. it is shorter and you don't have to wade through the nonsense.

[Brumchkin Murphy · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Always when men came together to exchange ideas, to laugh and boast and dare, to relax, to forget the dull toil of tiresome nights and days, always they came together over alcohol. The saloon was the place of congregation. Men gathered to it as primitive men gathered around the fire."- Jack London

In "Drunk,' Edward Slingerland sets out to explain why the odd misfits of the animal kingdom, human beings, are obsessed with intoxication. And more importantly how alcohol (and the physiological/psychological/cultural/and most other -al words effects associated with them) helped to shape our societies. He argues why intoxicants were and still are integral to our culture and the overall human experience using scientific studies, historical recordings, observable daily life, and more. Overall this book was a treat.

Slingerland's writing style is likable, he makes strong points, and utilizes a breadth of research to make. While also going into plethora of negatives associated with alcohol and abuse, medically but socially as well. However, the book is pretty long and he does reiterate certain points too many times.

All in all, the book makes a pretty strong and intriguing argument while not reducing intoxicants to "pleasure for pleasures sake" or chemicals that only bring good. Ending off his final argument with the quote, "Let us therefore embrace Dionysus with appropriate caution, but also with the reverence that he is due." A sentiment that I quite liked.

I give this book 4.1 prohibition-era bathtub distilleries out of 5 prohibition-era bathtub distilleries

[Jaime Fernández Garrido · Rating 5 out of 5]

Los científicos se hacen preguntas que a veces ni se nos habían ocurrido, como la que da lugar a este libro: ¿Por qué bebemos los humanos? Pero no porque bebemos alguna vez o algunos sí y otros no, sino ¿Por qué la especie humana tiene la necesidad de beber?

La conclusión fundamental de este libro es que el alcohol permite inhibir la actividad de la corteza prefrontal, que es la que nos hace ser serios y responsables (y que no se termina de formar hasta los 25 años, de ahí las locuras de nuestra adolescencia) y con ello poder mantener la sociabilidad de nuestra propia especie, que según Slingerland se caracteriza por ser creativa, cultural, comunitaria y consciente de sí misma.

Deja claro el autor que a lo largo de la evolución nos hemos acostumbrado a bebidas de baja gradación alcohólica, como los primeros vinos (que los griegos rebajaban con agua) y las cervezas. Para Slingerland los licores, como ginebras o whiskies, que superan los 40 grados son un grave problema, y más si se consumen de manera solitaria, alejado de las interrelaciones sociales.

En definitiva, un buen libro, muy entretenido de leer y que sirve para aportar un grano más a la historia de la civilización humana, sobre todo si como afirma Sllingerland la producción de cerveza se produjo incluso antes del invento de la agricultura, porque eso sí que marcaría que somos una especie a la que nos gusta más intoxicarnos que una barra de pan.

[Jake Goretzki · Rating 4 out of 5]

An entertaining defence of the 'beer before bread' theory of human civilisation and the role of alcohol as a brilliant agent that enables the selfish chimp to function in society, be creative and collaborate. It's pretty convincingly argued, yet mindful of the unusual hazards offered by the modern era: spirits (a relatively recent and way too powerful innovation) and solitary drinking (historically, drinking was communal - so having booze on hand at home and alone is a worry). Avoid spirits; avoid drinking alone.

Alongside that, there's sound, contemporary caution about alcohol's tendency to exclude (women, non-drinkers, teetotallers, etc) - and, of course, all of the obvious risks to health we know. I do like the writer's pushback against the Lancet's now-famous 'no amount of alcohol is advisable' advice (it's bloody stupid, and the same argument could be made for cheese, pastry or pretty much any other pleasurable vice).

Well written, approachable and with plenty of those memorable metaphors / aides memoirs that are the (rare) mark of the Academic Who Can Communicate (Dionysis vs Apollo; chimps and bees, etc). Enjoyable, provocative and thoroughly sensible work.

[Thomas Kingston · Rating 4 out of 5]

Slingerland, who I'd previously only come across for his work in Chinese Philosophy has done something very different and has set out to tackle the role of alcohol (and a few other intoxicants) in human life. Framed in a way that will probably appeal to Jared Diamond/Sapiens fans - it's a riotous, enjoyable and engaging read into getting out of your mind.

This might sound like a very broad topic, and it is. Covering topics from the ritual aspects of religious experience to the role it plays in social binding and even the evolutionary encounters we had with fermented fruits on the forest floor this is a wild ride through human history and beyond.

The author's research has been nothing short of incredible with the newest scientific and anthropological developments rubbing shoulders with quotes from Chinese poetry and personal experiences of LSD. That said in a way this is almost the only weak spot, at times you come across a page that is "as Mr XYZ says...As Dr ABC says" but on the whole this is more than balanced out by the excellent quality of these quotes.

Very worthwhile read that I'm sure I'll return to. Does leave you feeling a bit thirsty though...🍻