Generation Sensible, say the headlines each time young people are reported to be in less trouble than previous generations. Gone are the days when parents would fret over their kids’ excessive consumption of Bacardi Breezers — now, the problem is that we’re just not drinking enough.
As a 23-year-old, I drink — and have also, on occasion, made an absolute idiot of myself after one too many Stellas. I even like pubs that don’t serve craft beer — you know, the ones with pool tables and distinctly sticky floors. But for me, drinking comes second to hanging out with friends — something nice to do before a gig or cinema trip. I rarely entertain the idea of having a few at home on a week night — and I’m not alone in my self-restraint.
Figures released by the Health Survey for England last week show that in 2015 one in three 16 to 24-year-olds was teetotal, compared with one in five in 2005. Lifetime abstainers increased from 9 percent to 17 percent in the same period, while for the rest of us young ‘uns, rates of binge-drinking have declined. It’s hard to dispute the label we’ve been given — our lack of appetite for a tipple is sensible, especially given the results from a recent study that suggested there is no healthy level of alcohol consumption.
Photo: Reuters
Why are young people so boring? Not because we’re all Fitbit-wearing, hypochondriacs who are far too concerned about the possible implications of having a can to make time for a booze-up. Yes, social media and excessive Photoshopping have ramped up the expectation for perfect appearances and lifestyles, but we are not extremists.
TEETOTALERS BY NECESSITY
It is necessity that drives us to cut down on drink. For most of us, our futures hang in the balance — now more than they ever did for our elders, which means we’ve simply got a lot more to get on with.
Hedonism, once the height of youth culture, has lost its cool factor.
The best way to understand this is to look at how the financial situation for young people has shifted in the period covered by the Health Survey for England. Almost half of all young people in England go on to higher education, paying up to £9,250 (US$12,100) a year for the privilege.
In 2005 students were charged only £3,000 a year. As real-term wages have barely grown during that period, it’s no wonder those sitting on a mountain of debt by their 21st birthday are loath to get smashed with their pals all the time.
When we’re thrown into the adult world, the stakes are also much higher. Midway through the last 13 years came one hell of a financial crash, and we’re still feeling the reverberations.
The prospect of owning our own homes is diminishing. Since 2005, the average house price in the UK has risen by more than 50 percent. Up to a third of young people face living in private rented accommodation for the rest of their lives, according to the Resolution Foundation. Even a drink is more expensive — a pint today costs, on average, £1.20 more than in 2005.
It’s not only that we may never be financially comfortable. With NHS services slashed, young people’s mental health is in crisis. Since even our wellis determined by economic factors, fewer of us are willing to throw caution to the wind — although drinking has not decreased among those with poor mental health.
For more proof that overindulgence is no longer in vogue, look also to the icons of our era: the trashing-hotel-rooms-for-the-sake-of-it types they are not. You won’t see a member of the Kardashian clan or Ed Sheeran stumbling out of a club with a fag in one hand and a bottle in the other a la Liam Gallagher. Nowadays, young people are too busy trying to establish ourselves and keep afloat in society to enjoy being on the fringes of it.
You could say we’re all just very dull — but, like our lives, it’s more complicated than that.
In the mainstream view, the Philippines should be worried that a conflict over Taiwan between the superpowers will drag in Manila. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr observed in an interview in The Wall Street Journal last year, “I learned an African saying: When elephants fight, the only one that loses is the grass. We are the grass in this situation. We don’t want to get trampled.” Such sentiments are widespread. Few seem to have imagined the opposite: that a gray zone incursion of People’s Republic of China (PRC) ships into the Philippines’ waters could trigger a conflict that drags in Taiwan. Fewer
March 18 to March 24 Yasushi Noro knew that it was not the right time to scale Hehuan Mountain (合歡). It was March 1913 and the weather was still bitingly cold at high altitudes. But he knew he couldn’t afford to wait, either. Launched in 1910, the Japanese colonial government’s “five year plan to govern the savages” was going well. After numerous bloody battles, they had subdued almost all of the indigenous peoples in northeastern Taiwan, save for the Truku who held strong to their territory around the Liwu River (立霧溪) and Mugua River (木瓜溪) basins in today’s Hualien County (花蓮). The Japanese
Pei-Ru Ko (柯沛如) says her Taipei upbringing was a little different from her peers. “We lived near the National Palace Museum [north of Taipei] and our neighbors had rice paddies. They were growing food right next to us. There was a mountain and a river so people would say, ‘you live in the mountains,’ and my friends wouldn’t want to come and visit.” While her school friends remained a bus ride away, Ko’s semi-rural upbringing schooled her in other things, including where food comes from. “Most people living in Taipei wouldn’t have a neighbor that was growing food,” she says. “So
Whether you’re interested in the history of ceramics, the production process itself, creating your own pottery, shopping for ceramic vessels, or simply admiring beautiful handmade items, the Zhunan Snake Kiln (竹南蛇窯) in Jhunan Township (竹南), Miaoli County, is definitely worth a visit. For centuries, kiln products were an integral part of daily life in Taiwan: bricks for walls, tiles for roofs, pottery for the kitchen, jugs for fermenting alcoholic drinks, as well as decorative elements on temples, all came from kilns, and Miaoli was a major hub for the production of these items. The Zhunan Snake Kiln has a large area dedicated