Britain is in the throes of a mighty brewing revolution. No, don't send for the men in white coats: I haven't completely lost my marbles. Let the figures speak for themselves.
The 2010 edition of the Good Beer Guide lists 711 breweries operating in this country. That's more than twice as many as when the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) was launched in 1971. In spite of the economic downturn, 71 new breweries came on stream since the 2009 guide was published.
The numbers are amazing. Britain has more small craft or microbreweries per head of population than any other major industrialised country. For the record, both Denmark and New Zealand have more per head than we do, but they are countries with tiny populations. Compared to the United States, Germany, the Netherlands and other leading brewing nations, Britain is way out front.
In fact, more than way out front. For the first time since the glory days of Victorian Britain, this country is once again the leading brewing nation on the planet. While most other countries concentrate on lager beers in the Pilsner style, Britain offers milds, bitters, golden ales, strong ales, old ales, barley wines, IPAs, spring beers and harvest ales.
Some craft brewers are even producing true lagers in the European style. The choice and diversity is astonishing. Britain is a remarkable place to drink beer.
If all this raises an eyebrow or two — after all, beer drinking is in decline in Britain and pubs are closing — let me explain.
Back in the 1970s, when I first sharpened my quill to write about beer, both brewing and pub-owning were dominated by the Big Six national brewers. Allied, Bass, Courage, Scottish & Newcastle, Watneys and Whitbread largely determined what was brewed and what pubs sold.
There were also a substantial number of family and regional brewers — twice as many as today — nurturing their tied estates. Many of them produced excellent beers but they could not be called innovators. In general they concentrated on the beers they had brewed for generations: mild, bitter and a strong 'un for Christmas.
Since then, the world of brewing has been stood on its head. The Big Six were swept away by the Beer Orders of the early 1990s, their power base taken over by modern pub companies. The number of regional and family brewers has declined catastrophically.
The whirlwind that is driving the revival of beer today comes from the small craft brewers. It almost beggars belief to see the micros, year after year, popping up like mushrooms at dawn. Beer drinking in general is in decline, pubs are closing, supermarkets demand discounts that most small brewers can't afford and, for the same reason, it's almost impossible to get craft beers in to the houses of the national pubcos.
And yet the micros keep on coming. People who may have been keen home brewers or made redundant from a commercial brewery have put their energy and their savings in to opening small operations when common sense would tell them to stay at home and dig the garden.
Total beer volumes are lower than in the 1970s. The Thatcher-inspired recession of 1979 and the resulting decline of heavy industry sent beer volumes into a decline that will never be reversed.
But cask beer has crawled out of the black pit. It's the only growth sector of the beer business. SIBA, the Society of Independent Brewers that represents most craft brewers, reports that its members are recording annual sales increases of between 7% and 10%. Real ale is back on the pub agenda.
Many craft brewers are not only recording increases in volumes but are investing in new plants. Their success is driven by a genuine consumer demand. Pub-goers are tired of drinking the advertising. They want beers that offer a taste experience. In particular, they want beers brewed locally, distributed locally and made with locally-grown ingredients.
A few weeks ago in these pages ("We invest, small boys don't", 23 July), Wells & Young's marketing director Nigel McNally had a pop at the micros for taking the easy route to market without investing in their breweries. I know and have great respect for Nigel, who has achieved remarkable success with Wells Bombardier, Courage Best and Young's Bitter.
But he was less than fair to the smaller brethren of brewing. It's true that some are happy to stay small and brew in the potting shed but others are growing at a fast lick. In July 2008, I opened the extension to the Triple fff brewery in Alton in Hampshire that took the site from five barrels to a 50-barrel brew length.
Last week, the Thornbridge Brewery in Derbyshire opened a new site at Bakewell that cost £1.6m. Moorhouse's in Burnley is investing £3m in a new brewery that will take its annual volumes to 40,000 barrels.
That's not exactly small beer, Nigel. The craft brewers are here to stay and their role in reviving cask beer should not be rubbished or downplayed.
The change that is going on is underscored by one pub in my home town of St Albans. I stopped going to the Blacksmith's Arms when it mysteriously changed from a Hogshead pub to a Hog's Head. Out went the hand pumps as it became a "yoof venue".
As I drove past the pub two days ago, my eye was caught by a large blackboard on the pavement an-nouncing "our cask beers". The worm has turned and I'm off for a pint.