Why Aren’t Young People Drinking Like We Did? - A history of hedonism

Roman hedonism

Among those of us in hospitality and drinks, the question of why young people are drinking less has become a post-lockdown obsession. Every week, there’s another post or panel trying to crack the code of Gen Z messaging. But this trend has little to do with features & benefits, branding, or curated personal brands. It has everything to do with the socio-economic climate we all live in - and which younger generations feel more intensely.

Yes, camera phones and social media have made public intoxication riskier - few want a drunken moment to be immortalised online. But that only matters when there’s a cultural desire to get drunk in the first place. This isn’t just about being watched, it’s about not feeling like partying.

It’s tempting to think that hard times push people towards intoxication as escapism. But hedonism flourishes in stable times, not chaotic ones. People have always drunk and taken recreational drugs, but when safety, affluence, and optimism return, intoxication becomes a movement.

The Roaring Twenties followed war and pandemic trauma, but it was a boom that enabled flapper culture, speakeasies, and cocktail hedonism - not the hardship itself. Prohibition only added rebellious glamour, but it was affluence that sustained the party. 

The Swinging Sixties emerged from a foundation of post-war security. For many young people in the UK and US, housing was affordable, jobs were available, and education was expanding. That stability gave them the freedom to seek hedonism in the shape of sexual liberation and LSD.

1990s Rave Culture and Lad Culture grew out of a period of optimism - the Cold War had ended, emerging technology was a source of hope not fear, and global peace seemed achievable. Ecstasy defined the club scene, and ‘binge-drinking’ was popular enough to inspire a moral panic, This was underpinned by confidence, not desperation.

And this trend goes back millenia.

Pax Romana, the golden age of the Roman Empire - offers a striking ancient example. Spanning roughly 200 years of peace and prosperity from the reign of Augustus onwards, it birthed the debauched feasts, wine-soaked orgies, and bacchanalian excesses we associate with Rome today. These weren’t the coping mechanisms of a civilisation under siege - they were the indulgences of a people who felt secure enough to lose themselves in pleasure.

This pattern recurs again and again.The 18th-century Gin Craze, the rise of pubs during the Industrial Revolution, even the post-pandemic carpe diem attitude that followed the Black Death all coincided with increases in disposable income. When people feel safe, they indulge.

By contrast, today’s cultural moment is shaped by economic precarity, climate anxiety, and a growing sense of systemic collapse. Whether or not you agree with that diagnosis is beside the point, what matters is that younger generations do. When the world feels unsafe, people don’t chase euphoria - they seek control.

The sober-curious movement is driven as much by a desire to reduce anxiety as it is to save money. Psychedelics are increasingly about microdosing for mental health, not tripping for escapism. Skincare routines, sleep hygiene, and wellness rituals offer comfort, not thrill.

Two interesting psychological frameworks shed light on this shift. According to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, when safety needs such as financial security or environmental stability are unmet, the pursuit of pleasure gives way to a craving for control, routine, and reassurance.

Terror Management Theory shows that when people are reminded of mortality, whether through personal loss or existential threats, they don’t start partying. They instead cling to systems of meaning, turn inward, or grow more cautious and conservative.

For those whose livelihoods depend on bringing young people into social, physical, communal spaces, this shift matters. The answer isn't to push harder on alcohol consumption. It’s to ask what people want now, and the answer is often comfort, shared experience, emotional safety, and community.

Alcohol can facilitate this but it’s not everything.