Are the Tories' plans to help local people run threatened community pubs well thought out?
It's generally accepted that this is the dullest general election campaign in living memory, so the occasional good laugh helps. I've had a chuckle at some claims and even the titles of the manifestos, especially the variation on the theme of "a country fair for all". They forgot to add "except for bankers".
But the promise that most interested me — and I imagine readers of this paper, too — came from the Tories, who are going to help local people run their pubs if they are threatened with closure. I've never thought of Tories as being natural pub-goers, but there is an election on and the poor dears need some street credibility.
A few weeks ago we learned that David Cameron likes nothing better than going to his local for a game of darts and a Guinness. With a major brewery — Brakspear and Wychwood — in his Witney constituency, it might have been smart to have a pint of Hobgoblin rather than a stout brewed in another country, but it's good to know he's a regular in the Thatchers' Arms.
No doubt it was while Cameron was enjoying a glass of the black stuff with one of his spin doctors that the notion of letting local communities run their pubs sprang to mind. Dead easy, falling off a log, anyone can run a boozer, they thought with a profound lack of knowledge of the pub trade.
Don't misunderstand me: politically and socially, I'm all in favour of people combining to run vital local services. But they should also be told that a pub is a business that demands all manner of skills and a willingness to work long hours.
The examples of the few pubs in Britain run by local people prove there are many pitfalls along the road to success. It's also important to know that the pubs run by communities tend to be in small rural areas. It's a different matter if a threatened pub is in a busy urban centre.
The best-known community-run pub is the Old Crown at Hesket Newmarket in Cumbria. The Victorian pub is the last one in the village and it was threatened with closure in 1998 when the owners decided to retire. The villagers set up a co-operative and bought it: every member donated £1,500. The strength of the co-op lies in the fact that all the members own the same number of shares, which prevents one or two people dominating the enterprise or selling the bulk of the shares to an outsider.
The Old Crown has been a great success. A second co-op now runs the pub's small brewery that sells beer in the free trade in Cumbria. On my two visits to Hesket Newmarket, I've been impressed, even moved, by the passion the villagers feel for their pub and brewery. Without the Old Crown, the village would have withered and died, bereft of its heart.
Community spirit
Its success is due to the fact that it's a small pub in a small community. It's not difficult to make the right decisions about how many firkins of beer to order — especially when the brewery's in the back yard — how much food to get in or who to appoint as manager.
It doesn't always go to plan.
The Dyke's End at Reach in Cambridgeshire, in the Fens, was also threatened with closure and was bought by 49 locals for £170,000 in 1998. It wasn't run as a co-op and some shareholders had a bigger say than others. Eventually, the enterprise folded and the pub is now a privately-owned freehouse. At least it's still open as a pub, but is no longer a shining example of a community enterprise.
The Red Lion in the village of Preston in Hertfordshire was the first pub to be run by locals. In 1984, Whitbread decided to turn the pub, almost lost down narrow lanes, into a steak house.
The villagers raised £90,000, added £30,000 from a bank and bought the pub. The only worry is that the number of shareholders has dwindled to seven, one of whom lives in Cornwall, and the pub could end up controlled by only one person.
Running a big town pub is an entirely different challenge. My local in St Albans is what used to be called a road house. It's enormous. It has a good cask beer policy, but it's also a dining pub. It serves not a few dozen people a week but several hundreds.
If that pub were threatened with closure, it would need a small army of managers, bar staff and cooks, as well as accountants to run it. In a commuter town close to London, I don't think there would be sufficient people with time to take it on.
The election manifestos are silent on how the main parties would tackle the reasons why pubs are threatened in the first place. If there was a reduction in duty, a relaxation of the smoking ban and — above all — action to shackle supermarkets' power and their cheap beer policy, fewer pubs would close.
Perhaps Mr Cameron would ponder those points next time he's in his local. And do try a local brew, Dave.