Drunk by Edward Slingerland: Why Humans Have Been Getting Intoxicated for Thousands of Years
Book Info
- Book name: Drunk: How We Sipped, Danced, and Stumbled Our Way to Civilization
- Author: Edward Slingerland
- Genre: Social Sciences & Humanities (Psychology, Philosophy, Sociology), History & Politics
- Pages: 384
- Published Year: 2016
- Publisher: Penguin Books
- Language: English
Audio Summary
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Synopsis
In Drunk, philosopher Edward Slingerland tackles a fascinating paradox: why have humans across every culture and era devoted enormous resources to getting intoxicated, despite alcohol’s obvious dangers? Challenging the scientific consensus that drinking is merely an evolutionary accident, Slingerland argues that intoxication has played a crucial role in human civilization. Drawing on archaeology, history, cognitive science, and evolutionary biology, he explores how getting drunk may have actually helped our ancestors build communities, spark creativity, and forge the social bonds that made civilization possible. This provocative book reframes our understanding of alcohol’s place in human history.
Key Takeaways
- Alcohol consumption isn’t an evolutionary accident but may have served important social and creative functions throughout human history
- The “hijack” and “hangover” theories fail to explain why humans have persistently pursued intoxication despite its significant costs
- Getting drunk may have helped our ancestors overcome social barriers, foster trust, and enhance creativity in ways that benefited group survival
- Understanding alcohol’s historical role can help us develop a more nuanced relationship with intoxication in modern society
My Summary
Why This Book Caught My Attention
I’ll be honest—when I first picked up Drunk, I was skeptical. Another book about alcohol? But Edward Slingerland, a professor of Chinese history and culture at the University of British Columbia, isn’t just rehashing tired warnings about the dangers of drinking. Instead, he’s asking a question that should have been obvious all along but somehow wasn’t: if alcohol is so bad for us, why have humans in every corner of the globe, across thousands of years, consistently pursued intoxication?
This isn’t some pro-drinking manifesto or an excuse to crack open another beer. It’s a serious academic investigation into one of humanity’s most persistent behaviors. And what makes it even more compelling is that Slingerland brings together archaeology, evolutionary biology, neuroscience, and cultural history to build his case. As someone who’s always been fascinated by the “why” behind human behavior, this book hit all the right notes for me.
The Evolutionary Puzzle of Getting Drunk
Let’s start with the central mystery. Alcohol is objectively terrible for us in many ways. It impairs our judgment, makes us incoherent, causes us to vomit, leads to devastating addictions, destroys livers, breaks apart families, and kills people through drunk driving accidents. The costs are staggering—both individually and societally.
Given all this, most scientists have concluded that our taste for alcohol must be what’s called an evolutionary mismatch. Essentially, it’s a bug in our system, not a feature. But Slingerland isn’t buying it, and he makes a compelling case for why we shouldn’t either.
The book introduces us to two main categories of evolutionary mismatches: hijacks and hangovers. Understanding these concepts is crucial to appreciating why Slingerland thinks alcohol doesn’t fit neatly into either category.
Hijacks: When We Game the System
A hijack occurs when we figure out how to get a reward that evolution designed for one behavior by doing something completely different. The classic example Slingerland uses is masturbation. Orgasms evolved as a reward for sex—an activity that helps perpetuate our species. But humans discovered we could achieve that same pleasurable reward without actually engaging in reproduction.
The key thing about hijacks is that they’re relatively harmless from an evolutionary perspective. Sure, masturbation might be a “waste” of time and energy that could theoretically be spent on actual reproduction, but it doesn’t pose any serious threat to human survival. Natural selection hasn’t eliminated it because there’s no strong pressure to do so.
Could alcohol be a similar hijack? Maybe it triggers our brain’s reward system in a way that mimics the pleasure we get from truly beneficial activities? On the surface, this seems plausible. Alcohol does flood our brains with dopamine and other feel-good chemicals.
Hangovers: When Old Instincts Don’t Serve Us Anymore
The other category of evolutionary mismatch is what Slingerland calls a “hangover”—and yes, he’s aware of the irony. A hangover in this sense refers to a behavior driven by instincts that once helped our ancestors survive but no longer serve us in our modern environment.
The perfect example is our craving for fatty, sugary foods. Our hunter-gatherer ancestors lived in environments where calories were scarce and hard to come by. Developing a strong preference for calorie-dense foods like ripe fruits and fatty meats made perfect sense. Those who had these preferences were more likely to survive and pass on their genes.
Fast forward to today, and we’re still wired to crave these foods. But now we live in an environment where French fries, candy bars, and milkshakes are available 24/7. Our ancient instincts are now working against us, contributing to obesity, diabetes, and heart disease. We’re “hungover” from our evolutionary past.
Why Alcohol Doesn’t Fit Either Category
Here’s where Slingerland’s argument gets really interesting. He systematically dismantles both the hijack and hangover theories as explanations for human drinking.
First, let’s consider why alcohol can’t simply be a hijack like masturbation. The fundamental problem is that alcohol isn’t harmless. Unlike masturbation, which natural selection can essentially ignore because it doesn’t threaten survival, alcohol has imposed massive costs on human populations throughout history.
We’re talking about a substance that causes death, disease, violence, and social breakdown. If drinking were truly just a hijack—a way to trick our brains into releasing pleasure chemicals without any real benefit—natural selection should have weeded it out long ago. The costs are simply too high.
Think about it this way: any genetic mutation that made someone less interested in alcohol would have given that person a significant survival advantage. They’d be less likely to die in a drunken accident, less likely to develop liver disease, more likely to make sound decisions. Over thousands of years, we’d expect to see these genes spread through the population. Yet that hasn’t happened. Humans remain stubbornly committed to getting drunk.
The Hangover Theory Falls Short Too
What about the hangover explanation? Maybe our ancestors lived in an environment where alcohol consumption was actually beneficial, but those conditions no longer exist?
The problem with this theory is timing and universality. Humans have been deliberately producing and consuming alcohol for at least 10,000 years, probably longer. Archaeological evidence shows that some of humanity’s earliest agricultural efforts were directed toward brewing beer and making wine. We’re talking about the dawn of civilization here.
Moreover, alcohol consumption isn’t limited to one geographic region or cultural tradition. It shows up independently across the globe—in ancient China, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Mesoamerica, and virtually everywhere else humans settled. If drinking were a hangover from a specific environmental condition that no longer exists, we’d expect to see it confined to certain populations or time periods. Instead, it’s nearly universal.
So What’s the Real Story?
This is where Slingerland’s thesis really takes off. He argues that intoxication has actually provided significant benefits to human societies—benefits that have outweighed the considerable costs. Getting drunk, he suggests, helped solve some crucial problems our ancestors faced as they built increasingly complex civilizations.
Breaking Down Social Barriers
One of the most compelling arguments in the book involves alcohol’s role in fostering social bonding and trust. As human groups grew larger and more complex, people needed to cooperate with strangers—individuals outside their immediate family or tribe. This is really hard to do.
We’re naturally suspicious of outsiders. It’s a survival mechanism. But building cities, trading networks, and complex societies requires trusting people you don’t know well. How do you overcome that barrier?
Enter alcohol. When we drink together, several things happen. First, we become more open and less guarded. Our social inhibitions decrease. Second, drinking together creates a shared experience and a sense of camaraderie. Third, and perhaps most importantly, the act of getting drunk together involves mutual vulnerability.
When you get drunk with someone, you’re essentially saying, “I trust you enough to lower my defenses around you.” You’re making yourself vulnerable to them. And when that trust is reciprocated—when everyone gets drunk together—it creates powerful social bonds.
I found this argument particularly fascinating because it reframes something we often think of as purely negative (losing control) as potentially adaptive in social contexts. Yes, losing control is dangerous. But in the right setting, that shared loss of control can be the very thing that allows strangers to become allies.
Enhancing Creativity and Problem-Solving
Another intriguing benefit Slingerland explores is alcohol’s potential to enhance creativity. Now, I know what you’re thinking—drunk people aren’t exactly known for their brilliant insights. And you’d be right to be skeptical.
But there’s actually interesting research suggesting that mild intoxication can help with certain types of creative problem-solving. The key word here is “mild.” We’re not talking about being blackout drunk.
The theory goes like this: our brains have two modes of thinking. There’s focused, analytical thinking—the kind you use when you’re solving a math problem or editing a document. And then there’s diffuse, associative thinking—the kind that happens when you’re daydreaming or letting your mind wander.
Both modes are valuable, but we tend to get stuck in focused mode, especially in our modern work culture. This can actually inhibit creativity because innovative solutions often require making unexpected connections between seemingly unrelated ideas.
Mild intoxication can shift us from focused to diffuse mode. It quiets the inner critic and allows for more free-flowing associations. This might explain why so many writers, artists, and thinkers throughout history have had complicated relationships with alcohol. They weren’t just drinking to cope with their demons—though that was surely part of it. They may have also been tapping into alcohol’s ability to unlock different modes of thinking.
Applying These Insights to Modern Life
So what do we do with all this information? Slingerland isn’t advocating for everyone to start drinking more. That would be absurd and dangerous. But understanding alcohol’s historical role can help us develop a more nuanced relationship with it.
Rethinking Social Drinking
First, it might help us appreciate why social drinking persists despite our growing awareness of alcohol’s health risks. Those office happy hours, dinner parties with wine, and celebratory toasts aren’t just hangovers from a less enlightened time. They’re serving real social functions—helping people bond, facilitating conversation, and creating shared experiences.
This doesn’t mean we should ignore the risks or that everyone needs to drink. But it does suggest that completely eliminating social drinking might come with its own costs. We might need to find alternative ways to achieve the same social benefits—ways to help people lower their guards and connect authentically.
Understanding Individual Differences
Second, Slingerland’s work reminds us that alcohol affects different people differently. Some people can drink moderately their entire lives without problems. Others become addicted quickly. Some cultures have developed relatively healthy relationships with alcohol, while others have been devastated by it.
Understanding that alcohol has played a complex role in human history doesn’t erase these individual and cultural differences. If anything, it highlights the importance of personal awareness and cultural sensitivity around drinking.
Seeking the Benefits Without the Costs
Perhaps most importantly, if we understand what benefits alcohol has historically provided—social bonding, creativity, stress relief—we can look for alternative ways to achieve those same benefits with fewer costs.
Want to build trust with colleagues? Maybe try team-building activities that create shared vulnerability without alcohol. Looking to enhance creativity? Experiment with meditation, exercise, or simply giving yourself permission to daydream. Need stress relief? There are countless evidence-based strategies that don’t involve drinking.
The Book’s Strengths and Limitations
I have to say, one of the things I appreciated most about Drunk is Slingerland’s interdisciplinary approach. He doesn’t just cherry-pick evidence from one field. He weaves together insights from archaeology, anthropology, neuroscience, evolutionary biology, and cultural history. This gives his argument real depth and credibility.
The writing style is also refreshingly accessible for an academic work. Slingerland has a knack for explaining complex scientific concepts without dumbing them down. He uses humor and relatable examples, which makes the book engaging even when he’s discussing dense material.
Where the Book Could Be Stronger
That said, the book isn’t perfect. At 384 pages, it does feel a bit long at times. Some readers have noted that Slingerland can be repetitive, circling back to the same points multiple times. I noticed this too, particularly in the middle sections. A tighter edit might have made the core arguments even more powerful.
There’s also the question of evidence. While Slingerland draws on legitimate research, some of his arguments rely more on logical inference and historical patterns than on hard experimental data. That’s not necessarily a flaw—it’s difficult to run controlled experiments on human drinking behavior across thousands of years. But readers should understand that some of his conclusions are more speculative than others.
Additionally, some critics have argued that the book doesn’t give enough weight to the very real devastation that alcohol has caused throughout history and continues to cause today. While Slingerland certainly acknowledges these costs, his focus on alcohol’s potential benefits might strike some readers as minimizing the harm.
How This Compares to Other Books on Alcohol
There are plenty of books about alcohol out there, but most fall into a few predictable categories. You’ve got the memoirs of recovery from alcoholism, the scientific exposés on alcohol’s health dangers, the cultural histories of specific drinks, and the self-help guides for cutting back or quitting.
What makes Drunk unique is its evolutionary and anthropological perspective. Books like “Drink: The Intimate Relationship Between Women and Alcohol” by Ann Dowsett Johnston or “This Naked Mind” by Annie Grace focus primarily on alcohol’s negative impacts and how to overcome addiction or dependence. They’re valuable books, but they’re asking different questions.
Slingerland is more interested in the big picture: Why did this behavior emerge in the first place? What function has it served? This puts Drunk in conversation with books like “Sapiens” by Yuval Noah Harari or “The Botany of Desire” by Michael Pollan—works that examine human behaviors and relationships from an evolutionary or ecological perspective.
If you enjoyed those books, you’ll probably appreciate Slingerland’s approach here.
Questions Worth Pondering
Reading Drunk left me with some fascinating questions that I’m still mulling over. If alcohol has indeed played a positive role in human civilization, what does that mean for the growing “sober curious” movement? Are we losing something important as more people choose to abstain, or are we simply finding better alternatives?
And here’s another one: If the benefits of alcohol are primarily social and creative, do those benefits still apply in our modern world? We have so many other ways to connect and stimulate creativity now. Maybe alcohol was crucial for our ancestors but is becoming obsolete for us?
I’d love to hear what other readers think about these questions. The beauty of a book like this is that it doesn’t provide easy answers. Instead, it gives us a richer framework for thinking about a behavior that’s deeply woven into human culture.
Final Thoughts from My Reading Chair
Look, I’m not going to pretend that Drunk is a perfect book or that it will revolutionize your life. It’s an academic work that sometimes gets bogged down in its own arguments. But it’s also genuinely thought-provoking in a way that few books about alcohol manage to be.
What Slingerland has done is challenge us to think more deeply about why we do what we do. He’s taken a behavior that we often accept without question or condemn without nuance and asked us to consider its full complexity.
Whether you drink regularly, occasionally, or not at all, this book offers valuable insights into human nature, social bonding, and the forces that have shaped our species. It’s made me more thoughtful about my own relationship with alcohol and more curious about the evolutionary roots of other seemingly irrational human behaviors.
If you’re someone who enjoys books that challenge conventional wisdom and make you see familiar things in new ways, give Drunk a shot. And if you do read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Does Slingerland’s argument convince you? Do you think alcohol has been a net positive or negative for humanity? Drop a comment and let’s discuss—preferably over a beverage of your choice, alcoholic or otherwise.
Further Reading
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/51900660-drunk
https://www.edwardslingerland.com
