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This was published 3 months ago
We live in the nanniest of nanny states, but is it our own fault?
The absolute privilege of being well travelled will never be lost on me.
I am incredibly fortunate to have visited every continent (except the really cold one!), experienced many cultures and seen sights that would be on many a person’s bucket list.
IDs must be scanned after 10pm in Queensland’s Safe Night Precincts.Credit: Wayne Taylor
With a few exceptions, coming back to Australia from an overseas holiday is like returning to the Promised Land. What could be better than living in this part of the world?
But it also brings with it some lamentations about life at home, not least of which is the (relative) lack of freedoms compared to other Western democratic nations – and a fair smattering of Eastern nations too.
The freedoms – from the smell of legal weed shops in New York and Amsterdam, to the pint-cans of beer at the corner shop in Edinburgh and Copenhagen – lead to an ever-so-slight feeling of repression when coming through those glass doors at Brisbane’s international terminal.
(It is perhaps telling that the occasions I have not felt that way have been upon my return from places such as the Middle East, or nations with authoritarian regimes – as I said, the feeling of repression is, indeed, a slight one.)
And as much as our national psyche seems to revolve around booze, there aren’t many Australian restrictions as obvious as those against buying and consuming alcohol.
Now, I don’t feel any great need to crack open a tinnie and walk down to the park, but the fact that such a harmless act would put me on the wrong side of the law just doesn’t sit well.
These are thoughts that have been running through my head ever since a recent show at the Fortitude Music Hall to see an act that would immediately show my age.
Those young rapscallions who usually populate Brunswick Street Mall? On this night, they were firmly in the minority as a greying army descended on Fortitude Valley to reclaim their birthright, to once again rule the Valley roost like they did all those years – nay, decades – ago.
Generation X was back, baby!
As tradition dictated, we met at RG’s – that bastion of refined elegance that adds an element of class to an otherwise uncouth precinct – just as we did in the good ol’ days.
Given the Music Hall gig was primed for people “of a certain age” (i.e. middle-aged, as statistical convention insists on calling us), the clientele that evening was certainly unencumbered by youthful exuberance.
Still, early enough in the evening that a hint of daylight persisted in the western sky, we were required by the venue to hand over our IDs to be scanned before entering the venue to purchase our beers, hardened plastic glasses and all.
It should be noted there was no legal reason for them to do so – the Queensland government-mandated scanning is not required until 10pm – but the fact that we were subjected to it seemed somewhat … accusatory.
He might rule over Denmark, but King Frederik struggled to get a beer in Brisbane.Credit: Getty
And I’m not even royalty.
It will never not be funny to me that the now-king of Denmark was turned away from a Brisbane bar in 2017 because he didn’t happen to be carrying his ID.
Surely, no security guard would look at Frederik and think “now there’s a ruffian poised for trouble”. But even non-violent, law-abiding aficionados of an occasional late-night tipple must be held to the same standard, it seems, as an occasional lout partaking in – probably – something a little more insidious than alcohol.
That quasi-diplomatic incident highlighted the ludicrousness of Queensland’s licensing laws.
Must we all be treated as the lowest among us? Sadly, when it comes to the law, it seems we must. And there are as many good reasons for it as there are compelling arguments against.
Like many debates, it’s one that requires more than a little nuance.
It would be hard to argue to the parents and families of those young lives cut so tragically short by alcohol-fuelled violence, for example, that the laws intended to prevent a repeat of such suffering should be repealed.
And the Labor state government is certainly proud of what they have achieved.
Attorney-General Yvette D’Ath has cited independent studies into the government’s Tackling Alcohol-Fuelled Violence policy that showed a reduction in violence, without an adverse effect on business.
Under the TAFV policy, the effectiveness of Queensland’s Safe Night Precincts – and, by extension, the restrictions within their boundaries – are reviewed every three years.
“An evaluation framework has been established and the first round of the triennial SNP reviews will begin this year,” D’Ath said.
Whatever your view on the government’s position, it’s clear many in our society have a problem holding their liquor.
And while that’s hardly unique to Australia, it certainly seems to manifest itself in displays of masculine, drunken bravado with, occasionally, devastating consequences.
But, as we prepare to invite the world to our city in 2032 (or at least as many as can fit into our tiny, temporary “flagship” stadium), perhaps we should learn to be a little more relaxed in our hardline approach to drinking and treat adults like adults.
After all, how many heads of state will be denied entry at RG’s because they didn’t bring their passport on their big night out? How many will duck down to the local 7-Eleven in the hope of buying a wee nightcap to take back to their hotels?
Other nations seem to manage their relationship with alcohol without such tight regulation.
Why can’t we?