If the church was the centre of the village community in Middle Ages and early modern Britain, the pub has gradually taken over that role today. The local pub, or just ‘the local’, serves a direct role in maintaining community at a time when all notions of communal life are being gradually eroded. The churches are still there, although they are seldom full except for weddings and funerals, and they are joined these days by Mosques, Synagogues, Temples, and Buddhist Meditation Centres, most of which are having more success anchoring their communities than the Anglican church.
Of course, despite the central role for alcohol in both church and pub, the two buildings make for very different kinds of cyborg. The church-human cyborg is engaged in practices of ritual worship and moral representation, as well as charitable acts. But then, the pub-human cyborg is involved in the ritual worship of sporting teams (and accidental libations to Bacchus, although he is seldom named when people spill a pint). Moral representation frequently occurs between friends out for a drink just as much as between priest and parishioner. Charitable donations and fund raisers occur in pubs almost as often as in churches. Perhaps these two cybernetic communities are not as far apart as it first seemed...?
I have great love for all places of worship and religious practice, and the pub for me is one with a special place in my heart. Even if the conventional view of drinking establishments is entirely secular, at least one of my religions recognises a sacred role for intoxication, and I perform a sanctification ritual at every bar I visit that helps remind me that fellowship – whether in the context of the sacred or the profane – is a blessing. So too alcoholic beverages. Consider Benjamin Franklin’s comments in this regard:
Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.
Of course, it is possible to overindulge with alcohol, and to become terribly addicted. But the same risk accompanies many forms of religious practice. It is certainly not a direct consequence of the pub itself, which is far more likely to encourage moderation than an individual drinking alone.
If the pub previously seemed like an unlikely site of cybervirtue, I hope the perspective I have presented here is at least intriguing (if not persuasive) of the merits of the public house. Socialising with friends over drinks not only helps us work off our stresses, it can help us morally reflect on our behaviour in a way that always has the potential to aid the development of our virtues. Compared to drinking alone, it is an infinite improvement, compared to sobriety... well, let each of us make our own peace with our habits.
A Hundred Cyborgs, #45
Only a Game returns in the Gregorian New Year.