“Hi, my name is Chase, and I’m an alcoholic.”
I say this not as a badge of shame, nor as an excuse, but as a lens through which I have come to see the profound damage alcohol inflicts on individuals and society. Alcoholism is not merely a personal struggle—it is a societal toxin, a literal poison in the well. And yet, despite its destructive impact, it remains one of the most widely accepted and celebrated substances in the world.
The long-term consequences of alcohol consumption are well-documented. Modern medicine has long known that alcohol devastates the liver and brain, yet we continue to market it as a harmless indulgence. In the United States alone, alcohol directly contributes to nearly 175,000 deaths annually. Every forty minutes, it claims a life on the road. Those who succumb to alcohol-related deaths lose an average of 25 years from their life expectancy.
Given these staggering realities, I find myself questioning why we, as a society, tolerate alcohol to the extent that we do. We justify and rationalize its use under the guise of culture, tradition, and personal freedom. But how much of this acceptance is built on genuine choice, and how much is a form of collective self-delusion?
This contrast becomes even more unsettling when we examine how society treats other substances. The dangers of smoking have been drilled into us for decades, with governments spending billions on anti-tobacco campaigns, aggressive warning labels, and public health initiatives. Cigarette ads were banned from television and radio in the 1970s. Today, packs of cigarettes are sold with graphic images of diseased lungs and decayed teeth, a deliberate effort to make potential smokers think twice before lighting up. The message is clear: tobacco is dangerous, and we, as a society, have a responsibility to discourage its use.
The war on drugs has been even more aggressive. Governments have poured enormous resources into criminalizing narcotics, enforcing strict sentencing laws, and funding anti-drug education programs. We tell children that even experimenting with illicit substances can destroy their futures. We dedicate entire federal agencies to stopping the flow of drugs into our borders. The justification for these efforts is always the same: drugs ruin lives, break families apart, and place an enormous burden on healthcare systems. Yet, for all this effort, alcohol—statistically more destructive than most illegal drugs—is not only tolerated but openly celebrated.
Alcohol is marketed during the Super Bowl, plastered across billboards, and glorified in movies and music. We don’t see grim warning labels on beer bottles or whiskey ads banned from television. Instead, we get sleek, high-budget commercials associating drinking with success, camaraderie, and happiness. While drug users are demonized and smokers are treated as pariahs, alcohol is given a free pass under the guise of personal choice and tradition. Instead of hard-hitting PSAs, we get the meaningless tagline “Drink Responsibly” tucked away in fine print, as if the very nature of alcohol allows for true responsibility. How did we decide that some poisons are unacceptable while others are just a normal part of life?
Given the staggering toll alcohol takes on individuals, families, and society as a whole, one would expect that drastic action would already be in place to curb its damage. Yet, despite being one of the most destructive substances in modern civilization, alcohol continues to enjoy legal protection, corporate backing, and social acceptance. If we truly care about public health, if we genuinely want to reduce preventable deaths and suffering, then we must confront this issue with the seriousness it demands. The good news is that solutions exist—proven, practical strategies that could reduce alcohol’s grip on society. But enacting them requires the willingness to challenge long-held traditions, corporate interests, and the cultural inertia that keeps alcohol firmly entrenched in our lives.
One of the most effective ways to reduce alcohol consumption is to regulate how it is advertised. Much like the restrictions placed on tobacco, new laws should ban alcohol advertisements from television, social media, and sports sponsorships. Additionally, all alcohol packaging should feature mandatory health warnings that explicitly detail the risks of liver disease, addiction, and impaired decision-making. The normalization of alcohol through marketing has made it seem harmless and even desirable, especially to young people. By eliminating glamorized advertising and replacing it with educational messaging, we can shift public perception away from alcohol as a symbol of fun and success and toward an understanding of its real dangers.
Raising the cost of alcohol through higher taxation is a proven method of reducing overall consumption. Countries that have implemented steep alcohol taxes, such as Sweden and Canada, have seen significant decreases in alcohol-related hospitalizations and deaths. In addition to higher taxes, implementing a minimum unit price—ensuring that no alcoholic beverage can be sold below a certain price per unit of alcohol—would prevent the sale of cheap, high-proof liquor that fuels binge drinking and addiction. These revenue-generating policies not only deter excessive alcohol use but can also be reinvested into public health programs and addiction treatment services.
Another highly effective policy would be restricting when and where alcohol can be sold. Many countries have government-controlled liquor stores that limit access to alcohol, reducing impulsive purchases and excessive consumption. Additionally, shortening the hours in which alcohol can be sold—such as banning late-night sales—has been shown to lower rates of alcohol-related violence, accidents, and emergency room visits. Local governments should also have the authority to regulate the density of liquor stores and bars within their communities, preventing areas from becoming oversaturated with alcohol retailers.
Drunk driving remains one of the deadliest consequences of alcohol abuse, yet current laws fail to serve as an adequate deterrent. Lowering the legal blood alcohol content (BAC) limit for drivers from 0.08% to 0.05%, as some countries have done, has been associated with fewer alcohol-related crashes. Additionally, requiring ignition interlock devices for all DUI offenders—rather than just repeat offenders—would significantly reduce the likelihood of drunk driving recidivism. Increased penalties for DUI offenses, along with greater public education about the dangers of driving under the influence, would make roads safer and force society to take the consequences of drinking more seriously.
Alcohol addiction is a disease, not simply a moral failing, and it should be treated as such. Governments should allocate more funding toward accessible rehabilitation programs, mental health support, and medication-assisted treatment for alcohol dependence. Additionally, large-scale public health campaigns—similar to the anti-smoking initiatives of the past—should be launched to educate the public on the long-term dangers of alcohol. Schools should include comprehensive alcohol education as part of their curriculum, focusing not just on abstinence but on harm reduction and informed decision-making. By making treatment more accessible and raising awareness of the dangers of alcohol, we can address the epidemic at its root cause rather than simply punishing those who fall victim to it.
But despite the undeniable evidence and the clear solutions, the likelihood of meaningful change remains depressingly low. Alcohol is too deeply embedded in our culture, too intertwined with social norms, corporate profits, and political complacency. The alcohol industry wields enormous influence, lobbying against regulations and using its vast marketing power to keep the public blind to the full extent of the harm. Too many people are willing to look the other way, to rationalize their drinking, to dismiss the need for change simply because they don’t want to confront the truth. We have seen this before with tobacco—change only came after decades of undeniable proof, lawsuits, and relentless public health campaigns. And yet, when it comes to alcohol, society remains stubbornly resistant to the same awakening.
Still, if nothing else, I can offer my own testimony. I know what it’s like to be shackled by alcohol, to believe in the illusion that it’s necessary for socialization, relaxation, or coping with life’s struggles. I also know what it’s like to break free. Sobriety isn’t just the absence of alcohol; it’s the reclamation of clarity, health, and self-respect. Teetotalism isn’t some outdated, puritanical lifestyle—it’s freedom. It’s a life without self-inflicted harm, without the fog of hangovers and regrets, without the slow, creeping damage that alcohol inflicts on the body and mind. I am not here to shame those who drink, but I will never stop speaking about the profound benefits of choosing a life without alcohol. If society refuses to change, then the least I can do is stand as proof that an alternative exists—and that it is infinitely better.
Alcohol is poison. That’s not an opinion, that’s a fact. It destroys your liver, your brain, your body, your relationships—everything. It wrecks lives in ways we don’t always see until the damage is done. And yet, we keep drinking, keep justifying, keep pretending it’s just a normal part of life. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we know better. We’ve seen the consequences, felt them firsthand. We’ve lived in the cycle of drinking, regretting, recovering, and doing it all over again.
And here’s the truth most people don’t want to face—if you’re drinking, even casually, you’re still feeding the same beast. It’s not just about the guy passed out in an alley or the one getting their fifth DUI. It’s about the people who think they’re fine because they can stop whenever they want—until they try. If you’ve ever felt uneasy at the thought of quitting, if you’ve ever made excuses for why you “deserve” a drink, that’s a red flag. Alcohol isn’t something we control. It controls us.
The good news? You don’t have to live like that. Sobriety isn’t deprivation—it’s freedom. No more wasted money, no more hangovers, no more wondering what you said or did the night before. Just clarity, control, and a life that actually belongs to you. I’m not here to shame you, and I’m not here to tell you what to do. But if you’ve ever questioned your relationship with alcohol, take it seriously. Because the people who can quit don’t need to defend their drinking. And the ones who do? They already know the answer.
Cited:
Chase Zehlchen, "Beyond the Bottle Challenge," Zehl Files, Release: February 8, 2025. Edit: February 8, 2025. Available: https://zehlchen.com/talk/beyond-the-bottle
Share on X Share on Facebook Share on Reddit Share on WhatsApp