[Gobl] in the Pub

A shrouded figure trudges through a bitter cold night, the stinging rain hitting the wool hood. As their un-soled boot splashes into a puddle on the dirt path, a cheer is heard breaking through the bleak scene. Peering up, the cloaked figure sees an amber light glow and fade and glow again from the window of a cosy structure. Now a low collection of voices bounce from the light. A high wheeze trails off. He approaches the jolly building wet and expressionless, until the solid wooden door swings open to reveal a huddle of bodies. Men and women shoulder to shoulder on benches, all drinking an ale that matches the lights, matches the mood. A warm amber. Chuckles and cackles, whistles and howls, all accompany the bangs of cups returning to tables. And with ale in his eyes, all else was forgotten. 

Pubs. It’s a British tradition, a story that stays relevant and surprisingly relatable throughout most of civilised britain. Writing draws on imagination so try reading the tale above with different era’s of England in mind, the experience remains the same. Whether you’re a 1066 mediaeval farmer looking for some distraction from the quiet of night, or a 1940’s shopkeep looking for some distraction of war. The pub remains the common people’s respite. Its former name indicates as much. 

Known as the ‘Public House’ to differentiate that of private residence, the iconic welcoming signage marks the pub, inn or tavern (along with individual unique names like, The Bright Helm.) It is an Anglo Saxon take on the Roman, ‘tabernae’ - they were like a wine-only predecessor to our local. Pubs as we know them make perfect rest stops because the Romans knew what they were doing. They gave us roads, they gave us the tabernae. The two go hand in hand. Just because travel became accessible doesn’t mean the night did also. 

So after centuries of the good ol’ pub keeping us warm and merry, safe at night, bringing communities together and driving up local economies, what does the pub mean to us now? … 

Well, the same. That’s the magic of the pub, it truly is an industry unbroken by time. Technically an industry of Sales and Entertainment, drink is unique in the sense that as a form of entertainment it requires no preparation other than stock. No stage other than chairs. And the players are the people you see week in week out, whether they’re the ones at your table or another, it pays to have a local, it pays to be a regular, if only for the added game of seeing who’s in. It’s always a friendly face. 

But is the local pub dying? Able to withstand centuries of local economies and small community based customers. When locals were all that was on offer. But now we live in the age of a world interconnected by the internet, travel made easy by cars and trains, and a (somehow connected) dwindling of trust - It’s an environment that fosters franchise. Chains! Why travel and explore the unique gems a place has to offer, when you know Wetherspoons are cheap and cheerful? A franchise can afford a cheaper pint because of the influx of beer they sell across the country, they have leverage to haggle the barrels down. A franchise has our trust, that which we are so cautious to give these days, because you remember that one time you went to spoons with your mates a while back. And with an influx of options at our fingertips, at all times showing us every establishment in the area, choice can get crippling, and so the easy option is made, the chain is chosen. 

How can we keep the lustre of the pub alive? 

How can local pubs convince their residents?

Most anyone in the country appreciates their time spent in pubs. We love the damn things. But as of recently, we’re letting them down. Scared off by a divided culture war, with one side very clearly claiming the pubs. If it continues (the dirty looks I mean, an unsafe-welcome harboured not by the establishment but the culture within), then I’m afraid this may be the one time pubs are on the wrong side of history. Perhaps even left behind with it. It’s not a threat, it’s an observation. If the only accepted group within a business are a certain generation, or at least their politics, then perhaps it’s reasonable to assume that they will be left behind, within the tight grasp of that passing generation. Like a pharoah expecting his wife to be taken into the after-life with him, have the baby boomers claimed the pubs? Do they think they invented them? It’d be shame if they did…they used to be called the ‘Public House’. 

It’s cosy, the pub. With its old wonky walls and exposed beams. Their creaky floors and older patrons. But it didn’t always have older patrons. Today it does because it’s a customer base that grew up prioritising tradition, prioritising the locality of things. The way to keep the pub alive is to accumulate that younger audience again. But how is that achieved with a reputation for older patrons and a dirty look almost guaranteed to any newcomer that doesn’t fit in the limited scene? There needs to be one thing established first, between the house and it’s regulars, that being that the Pub has to come first. The pub comes before the wants of a few because that’s how you get the many. By hosting public events with modern advertisement. The pub comes before the personal prejudice of their customers. Because to be a ‘public house’ all have to be welcome, and then all will come. As long as the pub stands, with those exposed beams, and old floors. As long as the pub stands, with its wood bar and brass taps. As long as the pub stands, with chairs filled with locals and that sign swinging in the wind. Then it doesn’t matter whether it holds Quiz nights for the oldies or DnB DJ sets for the young’ens. As a matter of fact the pub should be able to do both. Because these are OUR pubs. ‘Our’ by definition. Ale and all.