Is This Alcohol’s Last Hurrah?

A new era of reinvention is upon us- who will answer the call?

My mom was a partyer. The definition of an extrovert, she was often the loudest voice in the room and a walking magnet for fun times. A soldier who also served in the Gulf war, she was smart, savvy and known to crack jokes hard enough to silence most of the men in her military unit. Being from the southside of Chicago, she had tough skin, and this would take her everywhere in life. She also, like most around that time, loved to drink and smoke cigarettes.

She had me and my twin brother at age 31, which, in the 80s was considered geriatric. The majority of her friend group however, either had much older kids or none at all. Eager to stay connected with the parts of her that existed before my brother and I were even a thought, she made our home(s) the gathering spot- a substitute for the club. For as long as I can remember, my mom had a bar in our home filled with delicate glasses, carafes she purchased from abroad and liquor of every color. She and her friends would consume and replenish this bar at every gathering like clock work. My brother and had the privilege of growing up watching adults play cards, smoke, drink, talk shit, and most importantly dance in my mothers living room for most of the early years of our existence. We were never allowed to stay of course, but we were always excited to get glimpses into a version of adulthood that felt forbidden to us as we fell asleep to the sounds of Marvin Gaye, Robin S., and Barry White vibrating through the walls.

At one point during one of her parties, my brother and I were offered an opportunity to taste what was in her glass- this juice that would seemingly charge the atmosphere of the room well into dawn. We each took a sip of a bitter, cold drink that heated our insides in ways that made us feel uncomfortable. We were disgusted. The room exploded with laughter in response to the grimaces on our faces. While we didn’t say this to each other then, I’m fairly certain my brother and I both swore off alcohol that day for the rest of our lives.

That’s kind of what actually happened.

Despite its existence in our home, the desire for alcohol never really made inroads with us. In fact, I didn’t have my first drink until the very last semester of freshman year. It was a forced activity conjured up from the realization that I had not yet participated in what felt like an obligatory college milestone. The week before exams, I went to a party and poured myself a cup of Dr. Pepper and a dark liquor called “Cyclone”. I was met with the same displeasure I had when I was a child. I did not like the taste or the feeling of it, but I was committed to see it through. I wanted to know what the hype was about. I drank enough to get a tipsy and, when I realized that I could not make the tipsy feeling go away when I found myself tired of it, I went outside to sit in the snow to sober up.

I’d eventually learn to normalize alcohol, not because I wanted to, and not because I liked it, but because in your twenties, all your friends and peers do is harass you about what you’re drinking or not drinking. I eventually learned the beverages I could tolerate and would force myself partake, but I’d rarely drink enough to get a buzz. It mostly felt like a waste of money, but it was a tactic to get others off my back. My drinking occasions were few and far between and by the time I reached my late twenties I was drinking only 1 to 2 times a year. When I hit age thirty, I cut alcohol out completely. I came to the conclusion that if the people I was around could not handle me not drinking then we simply did not need to be associated with one another. Today, when I go out, 100% of my friends consume alcohol, while I partake in my actual vice (sugar), and order from the dessert menu first. And that’s how it’s been for the better part of a decade (my brother didn’t begin drinking until his thirties after 4 kids, and even that is done sparingly).

For me, alcohol, quite simply, was not good. It was not tasty. It did not make me feel good. It did not supercharge me in the way it had supercharged my mom and her friends at her social gatherings. It made me slow, lethargic and most importantly, sleepy. It would transform me from a dancing party goer to an introverted critical thinker. It made me less of myself and I hated it.

Apparently, I was ahead of my time.

The Situation

Today, we know that GenZ is one of the most conservative generations to date. Because they’ve grown up in the digital spotlight, they are extremely cautious about the decisions they are seen making in public. This, combined with an emphasis health and wellness (inherited from Millennials) has created the perfect storm for alcohol’s potential demise as consumers today are drinking less and choose more sober lifestyles. GenZ is leading the trend, but their impact is being felt across generations.

This shift did not happen overnight.

It began with a desire to not be seen drunk or sloppy. With such a chronically online generation, it was understood at an early age that being captured drunk during a night out could have real-life repercussions for one’s career or educational journey. Due to exposure to more information at earlier ages, younger generations are maturing faster than before. The desire to look like responsible adults is a pressing matter for most GenZ consumers, even if they aren’t. From this, came the creation of Finsta’s to circumvent the prospect of being caught with their hair down, but despite this fix, the behavior change was already in progress.

Eventually, there came a realization that drinking could curtail one’s own personal goals as the activity became cost prohibitive. For a generation that sought to spend their money on things that mattered to them, alcohol quickly slipped down on their list of priorities, especially when they realized the after effects of drinking made for lack luster productivity. Soon, they found that, like me, drinking irresponsibly ruined plans for the following day often causing them to oversleep, feel lethargic and miss their gym classes.

Speaking of gym classes, next, came the correlation between alcohol and wellness. This fitness obsessed generation connected the dots between the negative effects alcohol had on their fitness goals. Today, most prefer going to the gym over drinking. Additionally, as reports have come out in recent years linking alcohol consumption with anxiousness, GenZ, the most stressed generation, is choosing to turn away anything that can make their anxiety worse.

Finally, this year, the FDA released a new warning linking the consumption of any alcohol to cancer which makes this feel like the final straw for the spirits industry. Across social media fit-fluencers have been increasingly demonizing alcohol to their followers and speaking about its negative impact on the body, mental wellness and their fitness goals. This this announcement feels like the beginning of the end of the category as we know it today.

Moving Forward

None of this means that alcohol will no longer exist, but it does meant that it has reached a critical point in its tenure as the king of social lubrication. Moments like these are rare and give brands unique opportunities to innovate and rethink outdated strategies and approaches. Much like the invention of vaping and E-cigarettes, which emerged after a targeted attack against nicotine that left the category on life support, we could be at the dawn of a new era of spirit products, brands and formats- it’s just a matter of who will do it first.

With the rise of “high alternatives” thanks to the legalization of cannabis and the widespread utilization of nootropics and adaptogens, consumers today are able to find their “buzz” in uniquely different ways. This has already sparked the creation of entirely new categories like “social tonics,” or even liquid drops from brands like Nama and Soberish, which allow consumers to get the buzz they want without alcohol or its the residual effects. But there is, arguably, more room for reinvention.

For alcohol, and other buzz-providing brands, tapping into “escapism” in a way that feels healthy and beneficial to the consumer will be key. As individuals continue to be overwhelmed and face a more hostile, less hospitable world, they will be seeking new ways to disconnect, and “zen-out”. However, unlike the past, they will increasingly be heavily informed, incredibly savvy and voraciously needy, meaning, they will expect to have all their needs met by one product. To stand out here, brands have to be able to produce the buzz consumers want to feel while allowing them to control the intensity and how long it lasts and delivering on their most pressing functional health needs.

Good luck.