You can't open a newspaper these days without reading about how badly society is being affected by alcohol abuse.
Calls from the media to 'do something' about this Sorry State of Affairs™ are becoming increasingly fraught, with even liberal organs such as the Guardian starting to observe how bad things appear to be getting.
When it comes to 'doing something' everyone has an opinion. The minimum price argument is gaining a foothold in some quarters, notably Scotland, while elsewhere the pub and drinks industries appear divided - as does the general public - on a solution to the alcohol 'problem'.
Alarm at the impact of today's levels of booze consumption on the fabric of the nation is probably little different from that of any time in history. In the 1700s gin was being consumed with such gusto - often by the quart - that a concerned House of Commons passed a number of Acts to tax the spirit beyond the reach of the poorest of the population who, being the biggest drinkers of the stuff it was assumed, would be saved from its debilitating effects.
Historians are divided on whether the 'gin Acts' of the mid-18th century actually had the desired effect, or whether the widespread introduction of cheap soap had a greater beneficial impact on improving the health of the poor.
The thing is, the political and lobbyist clamour for action on our drinking habits are unlikely to make much difference to the consumption of alcohol generally in the UK. It might affect where it is consumed - and hopefully the pub will have a say here - but the overall trend for drinking is inexorably heading downwards as people seek healthier lifestyles, etc.
That doesn't mean sections of the population couldn't do with cutting down a tad. But it was surely ever thus. As a nation most of us are wedded to alcohol to one degree or another. Just look at how we mark various milestones in life - with copious amounts of booze, presumably because it helps us to reach a state whereby life seems more, well, fun.
For example, I was looking for a birthday card for a neighbour at the weekend and most of the ones I saw for over-18s made some joke about the consumption of alcohol. It's just one of the ways we as a nation acknowledge that we like a drink. It's endemic.
But for some it - drinking - loses its allure. I remember more than 20 years ago a friend of mine opted to give up alcohol - a decision he took after being drunk under the table on a ski-ing holiday by a girl - and he spent the first few years of his sobriety tut-tut tutting at the rest of us whenever we got hammered at a social occasion like a barbecue.
"You don't need alcohol to have a good time Hamish," he'd say, peering piously over the rim of his soft drink.
"I know," I'd slur back, grinning inanely as a small rivulet of saliva slid [dis]gracefully out the corner of my mouth and onto the collar of my shirt. "But it shertainly helpsh."