Journalists have described it as a lubricant, a marinade, a shield, a solace, and a curse. I’m talking here about alcohol – the demon drink.

The recent death of a former colleague – and one-time drinking companion – called to mind the role that alcohol played in the early decades of my journalistic career. In the three decades following the Second World War, it was an ever-present component of newsroom life…and death.

The colleague who recently died had been a gifted member of the craft. He made highly skilled operations look effortless, and brought judgement and wit to both newspaper and magazine production. He went on to challenging management roles where he was working against the odds.

Throughout much of his adult life he was a drinker. Early on, I tried to keep pace with him in the pub and in the Press Club. While he may not have surpassed me in one or two journalistic skills, he certainly beat me in the drinking stakes.

Later, I had to make a choice between alcohol and the woman I loved (and still do). I had to admit I had a drinking problem, deal with its challenges, and stop drinking alcohol. Admitting I had a problem – and making no bones about it – was an important step.

Years later, I was interviewed by Metro editor Warwick Roger on my appointment as editor of the New Zealand Herald. “I hear,” he said in a slightly accusatory tone, “that you’ve had … ah…a problem with…the drink.” I replied: “Yes, that’s right. What can I tell you about it?” Nothing, he said, and moved on. I always wondered whether he was a little miffed that I had not made a pointless denial.

Broadcaster Patrick Gower has been extraordinarily candid about his own battles with alcohol, and I have admired his fortitude and openness – far more publicly than I had ever done – in dealing with what has seemed to be an occupational hazard.

My recently deceased colleague did not deal with his demons, and I have little doubt that it foreshortened what could have been a stellar career in journalism.

I hesitate to say that he and I were victims of the drinking culture that pervaded our early careers: No-one forced us to spend time in the pub. However, I think it is fair to say that we were (willing) products of an environment in which excessive consumption and inebriation were normalised. Continue reading “Bad and sad memories from an alcohol-fuelled age of journalism” →