Society
Is Traditional Russian Alcoholism Making a Comeback?
October 21, 2024
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Sergei Shelin
Journalist, independent analyst
Journalist Sergei Shelin writes that against the backdrop of the war, alcohol consumption in Russia, having declined for years, is back up, with stress, fear and grief as the main reasons.
The original text in Russian was published in Russian in the Moscow Times. A slightly shortened version is being republished here with the author’s permission.
The audit and consulting firm FinExpertiza highlights in a recent report that retail sales of hard liquor in Russia have reached a seven-year high. Last year, according to its data, sales of hard liquor were up 3.6%, versus 2.3% growth for wine and 2.6% for beer.
Against this backdrop, VTsIOM has published reports with survey results titled “No More Drowning Stress with Alcohol” and “A New Era of Sobriety.” One of the key takeaways is: “the share of those who do not consume alcoholic beverages at all in our country is now practically the same as that of alcohol consumers (48% and 52%, respectively), whereas 20 years ago the latter outnumbered teetotalers almost three to one (73% versus 27% in 2004).”
It goes on to explain that alcoholism is now “noticeably less often perceived as part of the culture.” Indeed, in 2004, as many as 20% of respondents attributed alcoholism to “national tradition,” whereas only 7% said so in 2024.
But if you look at the survey breakdown, you will see that the main reason given for alcoholism is the “desire to relieve stress or tension.” In 2024, as in 2004, this motivation was indicated by 38% of respondents. It is far ahead of all the others.
Among other reasons for alcoholism, respondents named “grief over illness or the loss of a loved one.” The popularity of this explanation ticked up from 17 to 20%. Only these two reasons held steady or grew in popularity versus 2004, when there was no major war raging, while the seven other explanations for alcoholism (“tradition,” “nothing to do,” “weak character,” “peer pressure,” etc.) are now mentioned less often than during peacetime.
The audit and consulting firm FinExpertiza highlights in a recent report that retail sales of hard liquor in Russia have reached a seven-year high. Last year, according to its data, sales of hard liquor were up 3.6%, versus 2.3% growth for wine and 2.6% for beer.
Against this backdrop, VTsIOM has published reports with survey results titled “No More Drowning Stress with Alcohol” and “A New Era of Sobriety.” One of the key takeaways is: “the share of those who do not consume alcoholic beverages at all in our country is now practically the same as that of alcohol consumers (48% and 52%, respectively), whereas 20 years ago the latter outnumbered teetotalers almost three to one (73% versus 27% in 2004).”
It goes on to explain that alcoholism is now “noticeably less often perceived as part of the culture.” Indeed, in 2004, as many as 20% of respondents attributed alcoholism to “national tradition,” whereas only 7% said so in 2024.
But if you look at the survey breakdown, you will see that the main reason given for alcoholism is the “desire to relieve stress or tension.” In 2024, as in 2004, this motivation was indicated by 38% of respondents. It is far ahead of all the others.
Among other reasons for alcoholism, respondents named “grief over illness or the loss of a loved one.” The popularity of this explanation ticked up from 17 to 20%. Only these two reasons held steady or grew in popularity versus 2004, when there was no major war raging, while the seven other explanations for alcoholism (“tradition,” “nothing to do,” “weak character,” “peer pressure,” etc.) are now mentioned less often than during peacetime.
“It turns out that people drink less now than 20 years ago, but it seems like they are drinking more than before the war, and when they do, it’s out of grief.”
Russia's largest alcohol producer Rosspirtprom announced its latest price hike in August. By the autumn, prices for the company's products had risen 25% since the beginning of the summer. Source: VK
Let’s test this assumption using the latest data.
Systemically important intoxication
In 2023, as we have seen, Russians’ alcohol purchases increased slightly. But has this growth continued? For 2024, there are only alcohol production figures so far. Yet they hardly contradict the consumption trends.
In January-August of this year, Russia produced, in volume terms, 2.7% more vodka than in the same period of 2023, 31.6% more wine, 17.8% more cognac and 9.0% more beer. Apparently, demand is still growing.
That the alcohol market in today’s Russia is thriving is supported, for example, by the fact that, according to Forbes, the most successful Russian billionaire in 2023 was Sergei Studennikov, the founder of the retail chain Red & White (Krasnoe & Beloe), which specializes in inexpensive alcohol and snacks. His fortune more than doubled over the year (growing 112%), the only Russian billionaire to accomplish that feat.
Russians are clearly drawn to alcohol. But now it is different than in the past. From the 16th century until the early 1990s, vodka was the foundation of state finances. Under the tsars, from Ivan the Terrible to Nikolai II (and his Prime Minister Sergei Witte), the state wine monopoly in its various iterations brought in more for the regime than any other tax. And significantly more than similar levies in any other major country.
Under Catherine the Great, when the empire was expanding faster than ever, wine revenues made up 50% of the budget. Even in a much more advanced era, in 1913, right before World War I, the state earned 26% of its income by taxing alcohol.
Under Soviet rule, this figure was on average slightly lower, but the contribution of alcohol to state coffers remained significant from the mid-1920s through the 1980s.
Getting Russians drunk seems to be a systemically important factor for all political regimes in Russia. This resulted in mounting problems, which were twice dealt with by paroxysms of fighting subjects’ alcoholism. Coincidentally or not, both times this happened on the eve of the collapse of the system: in 1914 (Nikolai II’s vodka prohibition) and in 1985 (Gorbachev’s anti-alcohol campaign).
Drinking dynamics
We shall now trace the historical turning point that took place in the second half of the last century. (The following calculations of alcohol consumption in Russia appear to be the most reliable.)
In the 1950s and 1960s, per capita alcohol consumption (legally and illegally sold alcohol combined; in pure alcohol terms) fluctuated around 11.5 liters per year before starting to grow, reaching 14.2 liters in 1984 (of which 10.5 liters was legally sold).
In 1987, at the peak of Gorbachev’s anti-alcohol campaign, consumption fell to 10.5 liters, with 60% (6.3 liters) being illegally sold alcohol, mainly moonshine (samogon).
The campaign eventually fizzled out.
Systemically important intoxication
In 2023, as we have seen, Russians’ alcohol purchases increased slightly. But has this growth continued? For 2024, there are only alcohol production figures so far. Yet they hardly contradict the consumption trends.
In January-August of this year, Russia produced, in volume terms, 2.7% more vodka than in the same period of 2023, 31.6% more wine, 17.8% more cognac and 9.0% more beer. Apparently, demand is still growing.
That the alcohol market in today’s Russia is thriving is supported, for example, by the fact that, according to Forbes, the most successful Russian billionaire in 2023 was Sergei Studennikov, the founder of the retail chain Red & White (Krasnoe & Beloe), which specializes in inexpensive alcohol and snacks. His fortune more than doubled over the year (growing 112%), the only Russian billionaire to accomplish that feat.
Russians are clearly drawn to alcohol. But now it is different than in the past. From the 16th century until the early 1990s, vodka was the foundation of state finances. Under the tsars, from Ivan the Terrible to Nikolai II (and his Prime Minister Sergei Witte), the state wine monopoly in its various iterations brought in more for the regime than any other tax. And significantly more than similar levies in any other major country.
Under Catherine the Great, when the empire was expanding faster than ever, wine revenues made up 50% of the budget. Even in a much more advanced era, in 1913, right before World War I, the state earned 26% of its income by taxing alcohol.
Under Soviet rule, this figure was on average slightly lower, but the contribution of alcohol to state coffers remained significant from the mid-1920s through the 1980s.
Getting Russians drunk seems to be a systemically important factor for all political regimes in Russia. This resulted in mounting problems, which were twice dealt with by paroxysms of fighting subjects’ alcoholism. Coincidentally or not, both times this happened on the eve of the collapse of the system: in 1914 (Nikolai II’s vodka prohibition) and in 1985 (Gorbachev’s anti-alcohol campaign).
Drinking dynamics
We shall now trace the historical turning point that took place in the second half of the last century. (The following calculations of alcohol consumption in Russia appear to be the most reliable.)
In the 1950s and 1960s, per capita alcohol consumption (legally and illegally sold alcohol combined; in pure alcohol terms) fluctuated around 11.5 liters per year before starting to grow, reaching 14.2 liters in 1984 (of which 10.5 liters was legally sold).
In 1987, at the peak of Gorbachev’s anti-alcohol campaign, consumption fell to 10.5 liters, with 60% (6.3 liters) being illegally sold alcohol, mainly moonshine (samogon).
The campaign eventually fizzled out.
“When the Soviet system fell years later, the new government did away with the state’s alcohol monopoly. For the first time in Russian history, the political regime began to live by means other than getting its subjects drunk.”
This was an event comparable to the abolition of serfdom.
It took about a decade for oil to become the new vodka in terms of budget revenues. Finally, the Kremlin was back to business as usual.
Meanwhile, for its subjects, the half-starved 1990s became a time of reckless drinking, as social tension rose and vodka became inexpensive. By the mid-1990s, at the height of this degradation, consumption had risen to 18 liters of alcohol per capita (seven legally and 11 illegally sold).
But as life got better, people started drinking less. In 2012, alcohol consumption returned to the level of the idyllic 1960s (11.5 liters; 80% legally sold). The authorities, having started to come up with some anti-alcohol measures by the 2010s(for example, limiting the time when alcohol may be sold), attributed to them the decline in alcohol consumption. The fact is, however, that people had begun to drink less even before. The general normalization of everyday life, combined with the erstwhile drift toward Europe, brought the country closer to Western norms, including in terms of alcohol.
It took about a decade for oil to become the new vodka in terms of budget revenues. Finally, the Kremlin was back to business as usual.
Meanwhile, for its subjects, the half-starved 1990s became a time of reckless drinking, as social tension rose and vodka became inexpensive. By the mid-1990s, at the height of this degradation, consumption had risen to 18 liters of alcohol per capita (seven legally and 11 illegally sold).
But as life got better, people started drinking less. In 2012, alcohol consumption returned to the level of the idyllic 1960s (11.5 liters; 80% legally sold). The authorities, having started to come up with some anti-alcohol measures by the 2010s(for example, limiting the time when alcohol may be sold), attributed to them the decline in alcohol consumption. The fact is, however, that people had begun to drink less even before. The general normalization of everyday life, combined with the erstwhile drift toward Europe, brought the country closer to Western norms, including in terms of alcohol.
"How can you live in Russia and not drink?". Source: VK
Unfinished normalization
Historical, i.e. state-stimulated, Russian alcoholism had special features that cannot be reduced to volumes of alcohol consumed. If we discard short-term deviations, then Russian alcohol consumption (per capita, in terms of pure alcohol) is approximately the same as in Britain or France.
The difference is that the phenomenon of “heavy episodic drinking” is much less widespread there. In a study by the World Health Organization conducted several years ago, 44% of Russians who drink alcohol reported that they had drunk six or more shots of vodka (i.e., a glass or more) in one sitting at least once in the past month. In the US, the figure was a little over 18%, in Scandinavian countries 20% and in Britain 22%.
Historical, i.e. state-stimulated, Russian alcoholism had special features that cannot be reduced to volumes of alcohol consumed. If we discard short-term deviations, then Russian alcohol consumption (per capita, in terms of pure alcohol) is approximately the same as in Britain or France.
The difference is that the phenomenon of “heavy episodic drinking” is much less widespread there. In a study by the World Health Organization conducted several years ago, 44% of Russians who drink alcohol reported that they had drunk six or more shots of vodka (i.e., a glass or more) in one sitting at least once in the past month. In the US, the figure was a little over 18%, in Scandinavian countries 20% and in Britain 22%.
“An estimated 30% of alcohol consumed in Russia is produced or supplied illegally.”
Yet cheap illegal vodka may account for as much as 50% of vodka consumption. Its regular consumers are poor and make up the stratum of binge drinkers that used to be considered characteristic of Russia. Although it has thinned out, this is still a lot of people.
That’s why deaths directly related to alcohol consumption per 100,000 residents in Russia are almost four times those in France and almost forty times those in Japan. In absolute figures, 45,000 Russians died from causes directly related to drinking in 2022. This is 2.4% of the total number of deaths, including 3.6% among men and 1.2% among women.
Demographer Alexei Raksha points out that there are still many deaths indirectly related to alcoholism that are not identified as such by Rosstat: “a colossal number of murders, suicides, car accident victims, drownings, poisonings and fires – I think that up to two thirds of deaths from external causes are related to alcohol. And, most likely, up to a fifth of deaths from cardiovascular diseases are [too]... Whereas officially we have 50,000 deaths from causes that are directly related to alcohol, indirectly there are likely at least another 120,000-140,000.”
Still, before the war, the relationship between Russians and alcohol had clearly been normalizing. Alcohol consumption fell 50% from the mid-2000s to 2020. The share of teetotalers, though not as high as VTsIOM claims, apparently reached 40%. And mortality related to alcohol was gradually coming down.
In the 21st century, Russians began to treat alcohol more dispassionately and normally than ever before. But in 2022, the state started a full-scale war.
The war is not only taking the lives of men (they seem to be dying in greater numbers now at the front than directly from alcohol). The war has also returned the historical function of drink in Russia as a universal cure for stress, fear and grief over the dead. Traditional Russian alcoholism is back.
That’s why deaths directly related to alcohol consumption per 100,000 residents in Russia are almost four times those in France and almost forty times those in Japan. In absolute figures, 45,000 Russians died from causes directly related to drinking in 2022. This is 2.4% of the total number of deaths, including 3.6% among men and 1.2% among women.
Demographer Alexei Raksha points out that there are still many deaths indirectly related to alcoholism that are not identified as such by Rosstat: “a colossal number of murders, suicides, car accident victims, drownings, poisonings and fires – I think that up to two thirds of deaths from external causes are related to alcohol. And, most likely, up to a fifth of deaths from cardiovascular diseases are [too]... Whereas officially we have 50,000 deaths from causes that are directly related to alcohol, indirectly there are likely at least another 120,000-140,000.”
Still, before the war, the relationship between Russians and alcohol had clearly been normalizing. Alcohol consumption fell 50% from the mid-2000s to 2020. The share of teetotalers, though not as high as VTsIOM claims, apparently reached 40%. And mortality related to alcohol was gradually coming down.
In the 21st century, Russians began to treat alcohol more dispassionately and normally than ever before. But in 2022, the state started a full-scale war.
The war is not only taking the lives of men (they seem to be dying in greater numbers now at the front than directly from alcohol). The war has also returned the historical function of drink in Russia as a universal cure for stress, fear and grief over the dead. Traditional Russian alcoholism is back.
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