Hamish Champ: Arguing the case for pubs

Everyone's been bemoaning falling beer sales recently. Brewers, for obvious reasons, have been bemoaning them. Pubcos, for example Mitchells & Butlers last week, have been bemoaning them, blaming the off-trade and in particular the supermarkets.

Most people point the finger at supermarkets' pricing strategy for alcohol for contributing to the demise of the Great British Pub, said to be closing at a rate of four a week.

I would agree that the off-trade isn't exactly playing a straight bat - to use an analogy from a game I know very little about - although we all know the arguments they come up with when it comes to selling booze at 'affordable prices'.

Those at the heart of the pub trade, those whose lives have been immersed in the sector since, well, day one, have every right to be indignant about this government's ignorance regarding the issues that affect the business. If you ask me.

So it was a bit of a shock to hear a dissenting voice last week from an old friend.

Sitting in a pub - of course - a mate of mine listened patiently to my waxing lyrical about the state of the nation's pub industry and then blow me, if he didn't hit back with his own take on the sector's problems.

"Hamish," he said - and here I'm summarising his comments as I didn't exactly take them down in my best shorthand - "the problem is most pubs are rubbish." If pubs are so popular, so great, then why are​ four closing every week? he asked. Surely if they were popular, or packed every night of the week, then they'd stay open, wouldn't they?

Who cares if so many are closing? he rambled on. Half of the ones that do close don't get enough customers in them to justify staying open, he said, adding that in many establishments "the beer's undrinkable" - a pointless observation coming from someone who has eschewed beer for wine for the last 25 years. The poncey twat.

He further ventured that being able to consume a decent bottle of some vintage or other in the comfort of his garden with the music of his choice playing softly in the background more than made up for the so-called atmosphere one finds in pubs these days. (God, he's boring.)

With this in mind why blame supermarkets? he wondered further. They are only giving customers what they want, he sneered. By now he was really warming to his theme, especially as he could tell the red mist was about to descend on yours truly and envelop me deep into its caustic embrace.

When he finally ran out of invective I spent 20 minutes countering each one of his arguments, but he remained unconvinced.

He's entitled to his opinion, of course, but Britain without pubs is unthinkable, even the crappy ones.

One of my main bugbears is standards of service to be found in the nation's hostelries; for example, entering a pub to be treated as little more than an irritation to a licensees' working day is not a great advert for the pub offer in my book.

But even bad service, if delivered with perverse flair can have an alluring quality all of its own. And it gives one something to talk about, at least.

Some of the best experiences one can have in life invariably start off in a pub, be it a sticky carpeted community local or a pine-floored take on the genre.

And while social tastes might be changing and a new generation of pleasure seekers is increasingly being tempted by new stuff, that's something worth hanging on to…