ON the prompting of veteran bon viveur and outspoken columnist Michael Winner, I have signed up for the campaign for weaker wine.

Drinking good-quality wine in moderation is, by the way, considered much better than not drinking at all. Members of the medical profession, not
exclusively French, suggest that as long as you’re not undergoing IVF treatment, a glass or two in a 24-hour period should be considered as medicine.

Red wine protects against many things, including heart disease and Alzheimer’s. Indeed, as an antidote to stress and tension, a glass of wine is far better than over-eating or picking on your partner. It apparently even worked for Tony Blair.
But moderation is the watchword.

These days a casual imbiber is beset by ever more attempts by the unscrupulous and the greedy to pour ever greater quantities and stronger blends down the throats of unresisting consumers. While alcohol percentages have risen, wine glasses and bar measures have increased to flagon proportions. No longer can you be confident of enjoying a relaxed meal with a glass of wine, without feeling squiffy.

No wonder the working lunch, when alcohol was served to loosen inhibitions and
promote fluid thinking, has long since been consigned to the sandwich takeaway.

There was a time, not very long ago, when a decent French table wine would weigh in at 11% proof. Now, Chile’s best packs in 14%-plus.

Allow me to go technical for a moment. A crude calculation of the alco-rithmetic shows that a 75 cl bottle at 11.5% yields 8.6 UK units, which is 1.4 per 125 ml glass. At 13%, that jumps to 9.8 UK units, which is 1.6 per glass. As a matter of reference, the UK Department of Health recommends that men should drink no more that 21 units per week, and women 14.

It is also a fallacy to try to dilute the alcohol content with water – you can’t combat the natural fermentation process, only prompt extra visits to the rest room.

As the brain submits to marinated stupefaction, voices are raised and concentration blurs in proportion to consumption. The wrath of grapes knows no bounds. So turning down the volume becomes as critical as the percentage.

The bad news for an old bistro amateur returning to favourite London quaffing haunts is that the combined onslaught of avaricious Bordeaux wine
producers, a poor pound-to-euro exchange rate, increased UK VAT and mandatory service charges have wiped out the pleasure of a gentle glass or three with your café nosh.

Maybe there’s some sinister plot afoot to swamp mediocre culinary offerings with knock-out juice.

So where are they getting it from? Well, I hope it’s not from the likes of the wine mafia who carried off about 35 tonnes of prime grapes in the middle of the night from a vineyard in the Languedoc-Roussillon region of southern France. Shades of the dastardly Jersey Royal potato swipers whose nocturnal
mischief among the vergées of St Martin made headlines last April.

Meanwhile, supervised drinking, in the shape of the traditional pub, is in serious decline. A total of 2,500 UK pubs closed last year – that’s about 40 a week, which raises an even greater issue: the disintegration of social fabric. Bang go the pubs, to be replaced by the excess consumption of cheap strong liquor on unlicensed premises without regulation.

The effects can be catastrophic, particularly when strong liquor catches out the unwary, particularly the young. Our cousins in Alderney were shocked recently to learn that schoolchildren as young as 12 were drinking in sufficient quantities as to leave them hungover in class on Monday mornings.

Figures just released by Alcohol Concern show that last year, 13,000 people under 18 were admitted to A&E for drink-related illnesses. In London, at least 50 children a week, some as young as ten, need an ambulance because they have drunk too much alcohol.

The trouble is that there will always be an appetite for drinking. It’s associated, quite naturally, with celebration, having a good time. It’s therefore very difficult to tell people to abstain.

After much cajoling, the penny seems to have dropped that driving and pregnancy are prime no-go areas where any sensible adult should instinctively shun alcohol. Indeed, there are significant areas where attitudes to both the strength of liquor and its imbibing are changing radically.

Time was when an alcoholic drink after a hard day at work was a regular indulgence. Many an executive would keep a drinks cabinet in the office, or at least a bottle in the filing cabinet to relax after a particularly difficult day. Some professions – including journalism, and the City – were notorious for condoning a drink after work to loosen tongues and ideas.

That was then. Now, and particularly in corporate America, on Wall Street or in political circles, reaching for an alcoholic drink at a party or function is tantamount to professional suicide.

Now there is a new kid on the block. It’s already a rave in America, and it’s been sampled in quantity during the recent London Cocktail Week. It’s the return of punch, which bars offer by the bowlful to be shared by four or five chums.

There may be no direct check on alcohol content, but at least London imbibers have been conveyed between trendy venues in classic Routemaster buses, so no rolling out onto the pavement, harassing passers-by or, worse, attempting to drive away in a car.

Now, what a business opportunity for the enterprising Paul Talbot and his restored vintage bus. At least we know what he’s putting in its tank.