I’ve been a binge drinker and and teetotaller. Everyone says it’s better not to get drunk… but I’ve discovered this hidden benefit. Here’s what you need to know before you decide to cut down: KATE WILLS

After a month of booze-filled work parties and endless festive binges with colleagues, many of us will be vowing to cut back on the drinking as the new year approaches.
But while the health benefits of abstaining from alcohol have been proven and no one wants to be remembered as the office drunk, what if raising the bar all year round was the key to professional success, rather than a one-way ticket to HR?
Personally, I have always been someone who drinks strategically rather than for pleasure. Because I realized early in my career that it’s not what you know that matters, but who you know, or more specifically, who you’re drunk with.
A recent study found that young people who regularly binge drink have higher income levels and advance further in their careers than those who drink little or not at all.
And I can’t help but wonder if all the statistics on ‘unemployed Gen Z’ are because most of them are sober (up to one in four according to recent research) or at least because they don’t want to spend any of their social lives at work events.
Kate discovered drinking at work helped her advance her career
I definitely attribute my successful career in a competitive industry to the many nights spent drinking with colleagues and bosses.
At my first magazine job at age 22, I quickly established the connection between drinking and career success.
I was initially surprised that ‘brainstorming sessions’ often took place in the bar. That was 20 years ago, and although it would certainly be frowned upon now, I quickly realized that alcohol breaks down barriers, reduces shyness, and leads to brilliant ideas.
And forget the water cooler moments; If you really wanted a colleague to move up to friend status, it was all about the wine bar. I spent every Friday evening in the musty old bar across the street from the office and considered it an integral part of the work week.
At first I saw invitations from colleagues as an encroachment on my social life, but I’m confident that the connections I made there were the reason I was quickly promoted and doubled my salary in just three years.
Yes, you needed talent and solid equipment to pull it off, but booze seemed to be the secret ingredient to climbing the ladder. The friends I made at that wine bar were the ones who decided whether I would get a promotion or be interviewed for a job years later.
My next job was at a newspaper where old hackers reminisced about the days when they could drink whiskey at their desks. People still drank freely at business meetings, although that wasn’t the case when I joined. Those who did not participate were seen as somewhat inferior. While bosses may not admit it, they want to encourage people they enjoy being around, and nothing bonds you like a shared bottle.
And I don’t think this correlation applies only to journalism. From business to law to broadcasting, there are many careers that offer opportunities for workplace drinking sessions.
I do not condone excessive drinking and no one should feel pressured to drink. However, as someone who is both a heavy drinker and a drinker, I have unfortunately noticed that people do not take kindly to those who avoid the sauce. I’m not sure if it’s because drinkers feel judged by non-drinkers or if you’re just on a different wavelength, but unfortunately, when you’re Sober Sally it’s very easy to be left out of the group.
Sometimes Kate realized that the fun of drunkenness crossed the line
And if you want to know what’s really going on in your office, you need to be at the bar, not the boardroom. After a few glasses, even the most cautious colleagues were chattering about who was hired, fired, and how much they paid.
Of course, there were moments when the drunken fun crossed the line. Even though we both had partners, I had a male colleague who thought he had a chance. My boss once thought it was funny to steal a cushion from a fancy hotel bar.
And while it wasn’t a team-building exercise that could compete with my colleagues enduring a hangover together at the office, being hungover regularly wasn’t exactly good for my productivity. You’re like soldiers in the trenches, armed only with Berocca and pastrami sandwiches.
Deciding to go freelance at the age of 31 did not mean the end of my strategic work addiction. On the contrary, I now had to push harder for opportunities, and so I would regularly go out for drinks with former colleagues and made it a rule to say yes to every invitation. Whatever it costs me to buy each round is more than I pay in winnings.
Since I was fresh in an editor’s mind, a night on the floors often turned directly into a commission the next day.
But the drinking culture of my twenties is no longer around today, and I fear that today’s youth, with an unemployment rate of 16 percent and rising, will pay the price.
The pandemic, in vitro fertilization, and pregnancies have limited my ability to drink my way to the top. I also never had the constitution to be the last woman standing. My liver’s gain was probably my career’s loss.
So if you’re considering Dry January, take a moment to think about your career. That glass of wine could be your secret weapon.




