By Olivia Petter

Copyright independent

It’s easy to scare a British person; just ask them to do something sober. Specifically, ask them to dance. Because, according to a new report, one in three Britons refuses to wriggle their hips without a bit of liquid courage. Conducted by Breast Cancer UK as part of a campaign to shift perceptions around socialising and alcohol, the study revealed that younger people (aged 18 to 24) were particularly susceptible to needing some booze to boogie, with almost two in five (39 per cent) saying so.

The research also found that more than a quarter of respondents believe they need alcohol to boost their confidence when meeting new people, with 16 per cent of respondents saying they used drinking as an “icebreaker” for first meetings, as others claimed to drink to hide their shyness. “Studies show that alcohol increases our breast cancer risk and can increase levels of circulating hormones, including oestrogen,” said Dr Hannah Moody, director of research and engagement at the charity. “The more we drink, the more this risk increases. But despite the serious health implications, our survey has shown that peer pressure may be stopping some of us from taking preventative action.”

This is hardly the first piece of research to find that drinking opens us up to other, more confident, ways of behaving. Take one study first released in 2017 that made headlines last month after the Dutch-German team behind it won the Ig Noble peace prize, a satirical award celebrating scientific discoveries; they found that drinking alcohol can actually boost your ability to speak a foreign language. The study, which was co-authored by Dr Inge Kersbergen from the University of Bath, saw 50 native German speakers who’d recently learnt Dutch partaking in conversations in Dutch after drinking either a non-alcoholic beverage or a low alcohol one. Those who’d consumed alcohol were found to have better Dutch pronunciation.

None of this is necessarily surprising; alcohol lowers our inhibitions, which means we’re more likely to feel emboldened when we drink. As for why it has become such a clutch for Brits, well, booze is so ingrained in our culture that the pubs are practically national landmarks. But you’d think that in 2025, society would’ve developed a little, or at least enough to eradicate the need for “Dutch Courage”, particularly when we’re all supposedly so much more health-conscious. Are we all that psychologically and emotionally inept that those of us who drink alcohol really do rely on it that heavily? Well, I’m here to tell you that we are. Or at least, I certainly am. Because the list of things I would rather not do without alcohol is an embarrassingly long one.

Obviously, dancing is on there. I’m not exactly known for my rhythmic prowess (the distinct lack of it causes regular amusement among my friends), which means I need a little encouragement to get going. Naturally, this also renders other activities a little less appealing without the lubrication of booze, like going “out out” (I think I’d find it boring), house parties (not that those happen much these days), and attending weddings. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve tried to do a completely sober wedding only to fail at the first sign of a dancefloor because I know what’s coming.

The confidence thing comes into play here, too. The thought of having to speak to distant relatives and people I haven’t seen since school or university without any kind of booze in my system is nothing short of terrifying. I also just think it would be a bit tedious; everyone is so much more interesting when I’m two Sauvignon Blancs down. None of this is helped by the fact that non-alcoholic drink options at weddings tend to be fairly limited – it’s usually champagne or water at most receptions I’ve been to, and I know which one I’d rather be drinking.

Then there’s dating, another activity I’ve tried and failed to do sober endless times. There are so many benefits to sober dating: your mind is sharper, decision-making is easier, and you won’t conflate attraction with inebriation – a common mistake many of us have made in the past, myself included. I know all of this. And yet, I still can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t need much – just one glass of wine is usually enough to calm any pre-date nerves – but the difference can be enormous to my self-esteem.

I wish this weren’t the case. Because in all honesty, I don’t love drinking. Since turning 30 last year, I’ve noticed that my hangovers take much more of a toll. Not only does my physical health take a nosedive, sometimes even after just a few glasses of wine, but my mental health often does, too. It’s not that I ever feel peer-pressured, either, despite what might lead others to drink in scenarios where they otherwise wouldn’t want to. These days, I have plenty of sober friends, as well as those who are simply trying to drink less. Thanks to changing times and, well, basic maturity, the news that someone isn’t drinking at a social occasion is more likely to elicit congratulatory comments as opposed to eye rolls.

In other words, there’s nobody holding me back from not being able to do any of these things without alcohol aside from myself. And yet, I still can’t manage to shake the impulse to reach for the glass in the aforementioned scenarios and more. It’s frustrating. But the cultural conditioning clearly runs deep in all of us, even though I’m sure if I actually had the willpower to abstain, I’d be absolutely fine, if not largely better off, in almost all of the circumstances where I find myself relying on booze to get by.

That said, I’m trying to shake this off. I’ve managed a few weddings where I’ve stopped drinking after the reception, and have even (somewhat reluctantly) got through a coffee date with someone I met on an app. But I really put myself to the test last weekend, when I went to a party with friends having clearly – and repeatedly – stated my intended sobriety both in the pre-party WhatsApp group, as well as on the journey there. My friends nodded and rolled their eyes. Then we arrived and I found myself feeling overwhelmed and overly stimulated by the mix of familiar faces. I spotted the dancefloor and immediately asked my friend if I could have one of her beers. Baby steps, I suppose.