Inside the quirky pub empire where phones and swearing are banned – and why landlords want to keep it that way

WWhen Mark Evans lost his job at a pub in Bradford 12 years ago, he sat in the car park outside with his chin in his hands and decided to write to Humphrey Smith, the chairman of Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery, to ask for a job.

When Mr Evans knocked on his door two days later, he shocked Mr Smith as he stood outside.

“He came into the house and spoke to me at length about running a bar,” Mr Evans says. “I assured him I was learning pretty quickly and he replied: ‘You better be, you missed your first two days of training at Tadcaster.’ [the home of the old-fashioned brewery empire].”

Before long, Mr Evans was given the keys to the Black Horse Inn on Low Moor in Bradford and a strict set of rules drawn from Mr Smith’s non-binding vision of how a pub should run. No television, no music, no cell phones, not even dogs.

Those who broke the rules faced the threat of closure as Mr Smith policed ​​more than 200 pubs by making unannounced visits to their doors until he was 79.

“We called him in at 10.30pm to have a drink and go over the accounts,” says Mr. Evans, who has nothing but praise for his former boss, who, despite late-night audits, has doggedly stuck to his principles against the modern technological age.

Mr Smith, who took over the North Yorkshire-based brewery from his father in 1963 aged just 18, achieved remarkable success at an early age, building a pub empire that ranged from mostly small-scale locals in post-industrial towns and cities in the north of England to historic pubs in London’s Fleet Street and High Holborn.

But they were all guided by the same rules, and all served only Samuel Smith beers on tap and brewery-branded snacks.

Refusing to name the brewery’s bar operators as landlords, these managers were caught flouting orders and faced immediate dismissal. Anecdotes shared throughout the brewing industry tell of a manager losing his bar and home after he was caught breaking Mr. Smith’s strict standards for beer measurements during a beer class. It was said that too little suds was to blame.

It was reported that a bar in Droitwich Spa was closed after Mr Smith heard a drinker use the f-word, and in Sheffield he ordered the closure of a bar after chocolate fondant could not be ordered on the dessert menu.

This authoritarianism from the top is one of the reasons industry insiders believe most brewery bars have been closed. The Real Beer Campaign estimates about 200 are shuttered; But there are also the same number of bars open; many have the old-fashioned hallmarks of any 1960s bar, from polished wooden tables to leather bar stools and painted artwork on the walls.

Some prices even date back several years; It ranges from £2.80 for a liter of dark mild to £4 for a pint of dark. Independent I learned. But the low prices come only if punters comply with Mr. Smith’s law.

“Our bars are havens of the digital world,” the brewery’s website reads. “The use of mobile phones, laptops and other technology is not allowed in our bars. Friendly bar chat is encouraged (no swearing!), as well as enjoying our beers responsibly.”

Mr Evans’ pub says the rules are being followed in Bradford, where it is one of two pubs owned by the Samuel Smith brewery. He says those who need a reminder of the cell phone ban will usually apologize, put the phone back in their pocket or walk out.

“People are coming to the bar for the first time and joining in the conversation with the locals,” Mr Evans says. “When they leave, they become one of them. The phone ban brings people out to talk to each other. We don’t allow people to sit around and look at their phones anonymously.”

Paul Renshaw has run The Saxon Hotel in Kiveton Park in Rotherham for nine years. He said pubs were performing well in the current environment despite restrictions on drinkers, with 161 pubs closing in the first three months of this year.

Among those to visit is singer Katie Melua, who attended her father’s funeral a few years ago with her former partner, motorcycle racer James Toseland. Mr Renshaw said he hoped restrictions on pubs would remain after Mr Smith’s death and that the brewery would fall into the hands of his son Samuel.

“Why change the winning formula?” he asks.

There is a similar view at the Sun Inn at Long Marston, seven miles from York; Manager Kate Turnbull, who took over the bar here with her partner Lee Starkey last year, says the unique rules in place create a friendly and inviting atmosphere.

“I will miss Mr. Smith because he was a true character with a great sense of humor,” he says. “You have to admire his strength to stick to those rules and not buckle under pressure like everyone else.”

He says the bar is not affected by the phone ban because “the younger generation are not big drinkers.” He says what was captured on their phones was explained in a nuanced manner. “My employees and I don’t shout across the bar, we quietly go up to them and whisper in their ears,” he says. “99 percent of them say, ‘oh yeah, sorry, I forgot.’ I’ve only seen one or two people upset about it.”

Local newspaper at the beginning of this month was praised The pub’s fish and chips cost £14.20. The review also sparked a debate over the bar’s mobile phone ban, with many backing the brewery’s stance. “I’m afraid the art of conversation is dying,” says Ms Turnbull. “So I really understand Mr. Smith’s reasoning for his pubs, and although some of the rules could be relaxed, such as the rules about children and dogs, I hope most of them will be followed.”

Mr Smith’s death was followed by a massive outpouring of tributes in Tadcaster, where the brewery still delivers beer using British horses five days a week. Although reserved in the media, Mr. Smith was well known in the community and could often be seen walking around town taking a stand on local issues. Ten years ago, he rejected the construction of a temporary pedestrian bridge on his land after the flood, calling it a waste of public money.

The brewery has been compared to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory and it is said that no one is allowed inside except employees.

CAMRA chief executive Tom Stainer said attempts by journalists to interview him were also rejected, but were rejected by him personally before the phone was hung up. “He wouldn’t delegate the task, he would do it himself, that was the measure of the man,” he adds.

“He was an enigmatic figure who came in and personally inspected the bars and took great pride in them. His rules were polarizing. Some people loved it, others thought it was old-fashioned and ripe for modernization.”

Rumors of a loosening of liquor restrictions on London pubs, for which Samuel Smith was in charge until his father’s death, now surround the brewery’s future direction in mystery, which could indicate a move across the estate, Mr Stainer says.

But Mr. Stainer argues that such guidance could be embarrassing. “Samuel Smith bars are unique,” ​​he says. “Once they change their value there can’t be another pub whose rules apply and you lose that forever and that would be a loss for the pub industry.”