With the revelry of Halloween nearly upon us, it's hard to anticipate the festivities without remembering their historical tendency to validate UW's reputation as one of the nation's drunkest campuses. The continuous less-than-flattering recognition of our school's social habits has painted the proverbial bull's-eye on the back of the entire student body.
Now, the crosshairs threaten to extend beyond campus and onto downtown businesses. Ald. Tim Bruer, with the backing of university faculty, is pushing for legislation that would restrict drink specials at local bars and taverns. This comes despite a pending federal anti-trust lawsuit against 24 Madison taverns for alleged price fixing after they voluntarily limited weekend drink specials.
The proposal's defendants argue that cheap drinks promote over-consumption and drinking-related crimes that stem from it. However, many downtown venues have limited their happy hours and two-for-one specials since UW began pressuring them in 2002 (which is why they're getting sued). When I spoke to PACE Project Director Sue Crowley, she was unaware of any data showing recent decreases in downtown vandalism and violence.
Any proponent of economic freedom should take issue with a strict regulation of drink prices. Restricting drink deals would inevitably prove damaging to bar and tavern owners, hindering their ability to offer incentives to bolster their clientele and their personal profits. The noble impetus of the policy would be little consolation. Legislative intent cannot compensate for economic realities — as the commercial consequences of the city's newly enacted smoking ban reveals.
Since this nation tested prohibition more than seven decades ago, we've seen that extreme measures of limiting access to alcohol, while decreasing overall consumption, also lead to more elaborate and riskier methods of getting intoxicated. In this light, the drinking special promotion is similar to the controversial keg registration proposal — a good idea in theory, but a potentially harmful piece of legislation when considering students' determination to get drunk.
I, along with the others on the city's Public Safety Review Board, came to a consensus last month that not only would keg registration be ineffective in curtailing excessive drinking, it would promote unsafe drinking habits. As individuals switch from kegs and half-barrels to 1.75s and tubs of whop, they put themselves at a far greater risk. With beer, people are generally aware of the alcohol content, yet the strength of a mixed drink can be somewhat ambiguous. I'd be willing to bet that most of the semester's 30-plus detox patients fell victim to cheap Fleischman's vodka or Captain Morgan rather than Milwaukee's Best. Keg registration, too, would jeopardize city businesses — students looking to throw a kegger would be more inclined to drive the 10 minutes to Middleton rather than endure the restrictions of the local liquor store.
A limit on drink specials most likely would, to an extent, decrease the overall consumption of alcohol downtown. Yet at the same time, it would undoubtedly deter financially constrained students from bars and persuade them to undertake their drinking exploits through more economically efficient but fundamentally dangerous means. A $30 tab for six drinks or a bottomless $5 cup of beer? Not a very hard decision.
While these two restrictive proposals are each flawed in themselves, together they serve as a contradictory approach to curtailing alcohol overconsumption. One attempts to eliminate raging keg parties, driving drinkers out of houses and into other venues (such as bars), while the other keeps drink prices soaring, driving students out of bars and into house parties. Whether they drink excessively or not, students need somewhere to go. We should be trying to push more students into bars — where supervisors are responsible and every drink glass has a bottom — instead of out of them. This only compels drinkers to seek random parties, where they can consume dangerous amounts of alcohol for chump change — and where they are at a far greater risk of becoming victims of violence and sexual assault.
In the end, the solution to alcohol-related crime is citizen accountability. The police department already possesses a vast array of tools in their arsenal to effectively curtail and punish random acts of vandalism and violence — including an exorbitant amount of potential fines. These measures, not an all-encompassing city ordinance, should be utilized to discipline those who break the law.
City officials may be intoxicated with irrationality that has clouded their ability to predict the indirect effects of flawed legislation. But their backs are pushed against the wall by students who, time and time again, refuse to exercise personal responsibility. How much will Madison businesses and venues have to suffer for the idiocy of our student body? How many citizens will have to suffer for the actions of a few? We can continue to condemn these policies as unfair and ineffective, but at some point, the consequences of our repeated transgressions will leave us with little justification left. If we don't want to see these ill-advised proposals become law, then we must take it upon ourselves to show city and university officials that, as students, we can revel in our drunkenness responsibly. We can start with this weekend.
Adam Lichtenheld ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in political science and African studies. He is a member of the city of Madison's Public Safety Review Board.