Will  our  ‘Liberal’ Continent Deprive us of  Life’s Little Pleasures?

By seeking to eliminate every potential harm, it ventures dangerously close to creating a world devoid of innocuous indulgence—no wine with dinner, no celebratory cigars, no sweet treats after a meal. While health is important, so too is the freedom to savour life’s simple joys. After all: can an entirely risk-free life still be called a life worth living?

It is Friday evening at the Place du Luxembourg in Brussels and its  bars are open for business.  Since it is right outside the European Parliament, the bars’ clientele are mainly MEPS, who are eager to unwind there with a drink in their hands Yet these same lawmakers are architects of policies that inch ever closer to erasing such freedoms for the rest of us. While they may toast to their achievement, we might face the prospect of not being allowed or glass of wine with our steak.Will Europe, as it crusades for our health, decide to strip us of this last indulgence? How far will liberalism go before it starts to look like a “No pleasure allowed” area?

Cheers, Cigarettes, and the Last Bite of Freedom

Europeans are drinkers —serious drinkers. A WHO report reveals that Europeans consume, on average, 9.2 liters of pure alcohol annually, which makes it the world record.

Alcohol occupies  an almost sacred place in our heart: from religious rituals like communion wine to social traditions such as banquets, where having a drink is mandatory, culturally Europe’s connection to alcohol runs deep. Central Europe’s beer festivals trace their roots to ancient traditions, while in Belgium, monks have been brewing their legendary Trappist beer for centuries. For Europeans, drinking isn’t merely an indulgence—it’s a way of living out their history, culture, and identity.

Yet it has its perils. In 2020, over 3.6 deaths per 100.000 people were linked to excessive alcohol consumption. In 2019, nearly one in five Europeans consumed over 60 grams of pure ethanol in a single drinking session at least once a month, especially among the youth. The risks are well-known, making it an urgent health issue. 

The story is much the same for sugar and salt. Alongside tobacco, these staples are regularly pointed to for the health risks they pose. While tobacco poses a greater threat, both sugar and nicotine can arguably be classified as drugs due to their effects on the brain.

Their influence on the brain, through the triggering of dopamine releases, can turn the occasional simple pleasure into long-term dependency.

If one person indulges in a few too many drinks while another sticks to water, should the drinker be punished, so as to preserve the system? Since our healthcare system is reliant on solidarity, should we all monitor each other’s choices, and engage in social shaming? Or is it incumbent upon the state to limit access and penalize the user, at the expense of our personal freedom? If we opt for the first option, are we truly prepared to sacrifice life’s small pleasures just to maintain solidarity? If it is the latter, we risk having our countries turning into a nanny state.

Discriminate and restrict without outright banning: the hallmark of European hypocrisy.

European health policies are clear: risks must be reduced for everyone, in the name of mutual aid —or rather, pre-aid. In that way of thinking, all dangers, either real or perceived, are anticipated. One drink too many? You can’t drive. Soon enough, all cars may come equipped with alcohol-detecting systems that won’t even start (called breathalyzer ignition locks), a process made even easier to enforce when everyone is driving an electric car connected to centralized systems.

Measures currently in place are absurdly coercive: restaurants sell you alcohol, but you can’t drive afterward because of the 0% tolerance policy. Why the charade, why not simply ban alcohol altogether? Perhaps not to spook the citizenry, and let it keep its illusion of freedom? 

Authorities use the same playbook with cigarettes: taxes are raised, prices soar, graphic depictions of various illnesses cover their packaging, smokers are shamed, and advertising is banned. And yet, cigarettes remain on the shelves. Is this the first step toward a complete ban or just another demonstration of hypocrisy? That’s the real question. Or perhaps it’s not about freedom at all—but about preserving the enormous revenue these markets generate? After all, by taxing the alcohol and tobacco industries, governments take in billions. In 2020 alone, the French government collected approximately €15.3 billion in tobacco-related taxes.

That said, Europe’s anti-alcohol and anti-tobacco policies are proving relatively effective. Younger generations are drinking and smoking less than ever before. While their growing interest in health and environmental concerns undoubtedly influences these choices, it’s clear that European policies have played a significant role in driving this shift. Social media campaigns and ”sober-curious” movements have also played a role in these trends—perhaps for the best, as it has made our roads safer.

Health Policies: Europe Means Well, but Could It Do Us Harm?

The fact is that the European Union finds itself caught between a rock and a hard place: one the one hand it has third-party organizations like the WHO that consistently push for centralising health management, and citizens who demand more freedom while also expecting care from their solidarity-based healthcare system when things go wrong. 

One might argue for a system based on the one currently existing in the U.S.—tolerant of many lifestyles and far less focused on solidarity. But every system has its trade-offs. Who in Europe would be willing to pay 20 times the cost of hospitalization when that need arises? It’s worth noting that in the United States, 60% of personal bankruptcies are tied to exorbitant medical expenses—a stark reminder of the cost of such a system. Europe’s strength lies in mutualizing costs; its weakness lies in systemic equality, which naturally requires immense—and often hypocritical—regulations.

The American system imposes little, aside from its own ban on drugs, as seen in Europe. However, it places far more responsibility on the individual for his life’s outcomes, for better or worse. The divide is fundamental: State or Freedom—both rarely coexist.

We must then ask ourselves: would we truly be capable of taking full responsibility for our own lives? Could we resist indulging in a small drink, for instance, when we know we have to drive? Perhaps the question is less to do with whether freedom is a good or not, but whether we are prepared to handle the responsibility that comes with it.