Lost in translation?

Over the past year, CAMRA has been carrying out a strategic review under the chairmanship of former MP John Grogan. The results of this have now been published on the CAMRA website here (members only, unfortunately). It has to be said that, while a lot of effort has clearly been put into the document, and it is sensible enough as far as it goes, it isn’t quite what many people were expecting. The hope was that it would involve a fundamental review of exactly what “campaigning for real ale” means in 2011, as opposed to 1971. However, what we have got is a much more narrowly-focused exercise of examining how CAMRA goes about its campaigning, not of what it should (and shouldn’t) stand for and champion.

Indeed, that kind of root-and-branch re-examination is specifically ruled out:

It was no part of the Strategic Review Group's remit given to it by last year's Conference to second guess that democracy and pronounce on minimum pricing, the debate over the distinction between craft beers and real ales and the role CAMRA should play in combating the anti-alcohol lobby. Rather, our role was to identify ways in which CAMRA could sharpen up its act and campaigning activity.

This is, however, somewhat disingenuous. In practice, the campaigning priorities of the organisation, and its general tone, are set by the actions and words of its National Executive and professional officers, not by AGM motions, which only act to give a nudge once in a while. Somehow, the mission statement seems to have become lost in translation, and what we have is a review of tactics, not strategy.

Since CAMRA was formed in 1971, the environment in which it operates has dramatically changed. In particular, there are three major developments of recent years to which it has not yet formulated any kind of coherent response:

1. The rise of off-trade beer consumption and the decline of pubs. At some time during 2012 the off-trade is likely to overtake the on-trade. This is closely linked with the startling rate of pub closures in recent years.
   
2. The growth in the appreciation of “craft beer” which has wide areas where it does not overlap with real ale – and equally, most “real ale” is never going to be “craft beer”.
   
3. The increased influence of the anti-drink lobby which has led to a much less favourable fiscal and regulatory environment for the beer and pub trade and has made consumption of alcohol, especially outside the home, markedly less socially acceptable.

The world has moved on, and you can’t go on campaigning like it was still the mid-Seventies. I’m not touting for any specific response to these trends, but if CAMRA continues to stick its collective head in the sand and says “nothing to do with us, mate”, then it risks being rendered a declining, nostalgic irrelevance.

CULTURED AND NON-CULTURED

I was busy working at my desk yesterday when a foul smell permeated towards me, so bad it made my throat burn and I got that watery mouth feeling which is symptomatic of an impending desire to vomit.



With nostrils flared I looked to my colleague sitting next to me and wondered if it was him but as he is a very dapper and a smart sort of chap who cares about his appearance, and I hadn't noticed it before, I doubted it. Almost immediately my attention was drawn to a man at the front desk who had come into the office to place an advert.



He was dressed casually and looked a bit like Foggy of Last of the Summer Wine. His breath was foul like he was rotting inside and as he spoke I could smell it a few feet away. There was also a bitter musty smell, like putrid garlic mixed with decayed socks, urine soaked underpants, and a year's worth of dry sweat.



He was about to turn and leave after handing in a piece of paper when he turned back towards the receptionist.



"Oh, does it say non-smoker? It must be a non-smoker and is it going to cost any more?"



He was advised it would be an extra quid or two depending on how the lineage worked out. He decided his prejudice was worth it.



When he left, everyone in the office was relieved and I'm told he is quite a regular so they will have to put up with him again. I asked the lady at the desk what he wanted. She said he was advertising a property to rent. I am the only smoker in the office but not the only one to see the irony.



I'd been working on the big story of the day that a planning application in the paper's historic market town - that had been previously refused because it was out of character - had now been approved on appeal by a Govt inspector who didn't give a damn about how it would affect the local area or local people.



I was sent out to talk to this intensely interesting and cultured chap who will be adversely affected by it and other residents in the street who fought against it, won, and then saw local democracy in action overturned by Big Govt institutions who have decided what the town needs and not the local council or the people who live there.



As I arrived at Mr Wyatt's house, jazz music blared out and I wondered if he'd hear me knocking. I pushed two door bells and banged the old iron knocker on the huge door. My Wyatt appeared in his wheelchair and graciously invited me in. As I followed him into the kitchen there was the trace of an aroma of fresh tobacco and I found myself involuntarily smiling. I felt immediately at ease.



He was cutting onions in a special way that causes no tears and reduced smell - one when strong that I find quite unbearable but this was even mildly pleasant. There was one stump in the ashtray with the onion skins he'd removed and I smiled again but said nothing.



We chatted for while about why I was there and when all was said that needed to be said for my story, I couldn't help myself.



"I see you are a fellow friend," I said and nodded towards his ashtray.



He looked surprised for half a second and then smiled back.



"Oh yes, do feel free," he said. "And if you don't mind, do you have one spare?" He offered me a cup of tea, but then I'd have had two reasons to stay longer than I should have done so I politely declined.



I got out my elegant cigarette case with my ready rolled cigs inside, handed one to him, lit mine and then his as he didn't have a lighter handy. I apologised that they weren't tipped and he said that's how he liked them best.



We spent the next three quarters of an hour in perfect civility before he took me round to speak to others in the neighbourhod who were unhappy. I was sad to leave him as I'd had quite an enjoyable time and I felt connected in a way that I don't with people like Mr Stinky who came into the office earlier that day.



Mr Wyatt shared my dismay at the smoking ban which he dismissed as silly. As for the new development, he said it was indicative of how we were going backwards as a society from recognising and valuing local heritage to the bad old days of the 1960s. That was when many UK towns and cities unaffected by the bombings of World War 2 lost a lot of their history to aluminium and asbestos flat-topped buildings because "the future" was suddenly deemed more important. Vandalism of local heritage seemed a worthy price to pay back then in the name of "progress."



I could have said the same thing about the healthists who are ruining many aspects of our social lives and culture with their hysterical view of the "progressive" smoking ban but I didn't. I thanked him for his hospitality and help and left feeling comforted that there is still some semblance of normality in this bad, sad, uncultured modern world.

Little and large

The current poll on bottle sizes was prompted by this post on The Bottled Beer Year complaining about the 4.5% Meantime London Lager being sold in a 330ml bottle:

The children's-sized bottle, however, quickly becomes a right old pain in the proverbial, especially when you realise that the happy event is pretty much over after around three average mouthfuls. If this were an act of love making, it would trigger a very awkward argument. No question about it.

Obviously, in general, there’s a broad correlation between strength and bottle size, with the stronger the beer, the more likely it is to appear in the smaller bottle. However, there’s a wide overlap with, for example, the 4.9% Hoegaarden coming in a 330ml, whereas 500ml is standard for all the 5%-ish British premium bottled ales.

The cut-off point may also vary depending on the beer type. Beers like Leffe and Innis & Gunn, which are both around 6.6%, seem right in a 330ml bottle, whereas Pedigree VSOP, which has a similar strength, is more of a traditional British ale and seems more suited to 500ml.

BrewDog, wanting to be different, put all of their beers in 330ml bottles, even down to the 4.1% Trashy Blonde. And Tesco are stocking 330ml bottles of many of the well-known PBAs such as Old Speckled Hen and London Pride, usually at well over two-thirds the price of the 500ml equivalents. I’m not sure how many they sell, though, and the other major supermarkets don’t seem to have followed suit.

The bigger the measure, the more time it will take to drink it, thus giving it more time to warm up. This isn’t likely to matter much with ales, but it has been advanced as a reason for preferring lagers in small bottles (and even in 250ml “stubbies”) rather than 500ml.

It’s interesting how at this early stage there’s such a wide spread in responses to the poll – clearly, some people prefer 330ml bottles across the strength range, and others actively dislike them except for very strong beers.