Benchmark

Back in the day, when pubs weren't structured and laid out as they are now, the best room and public bar were usually tricked out in bench seating.  In fact, bench seating was the norm really and poseur tables and armchairs and a lot of modern trappings like tables more suited to a restaurant were much rarer beasts. It allowed a lot of people to sit around the walls of pubs and created room for circulation and standing drinkers. Pubs were then, in many cases I suppose, a little more spartan, along the lines of a "a pub is for drinking in", but rarely uncomfortable.  Many though, were convivial and cosy, even when they were big - and large pubs were then very common indeed - they weren't, in the main, specifically aimed at diners.  I'm talking, probably from God knows when, until I first came to England, so the 1980s and onwards through the nineties, until things slowly but surely morphed into the kind of pubs we see today.

There was then, too, much more standing at the bar.  In fact, standing generally. I'm often amused nowadays, in some pubs, mainly with young staff, who when you are standing at the bar, and can clearly see you have a drink in front of you, ask in that tiresome way "You all right?" It seems they are totally discombobulated, and indeed nonplussed - rattled even - by a punter choosing to stand at the bar and drink their beer on their hind legs. More of this later, as this is what has given rise to this post.

Back then as nowadays, you'd enter a pub, look around and decide where you would consume your beer or whatever your chosen drink. It would be entirely conventional, if on your own, to either stand at the bar and enjoy your pint. Or, if the pub was rammed, find a space on a bench seat and join others, more than likely not of your acquaintance. In both cases, it would be rare not to find a conversation being struck up. Even more common, in a busy pub, if you looked round, someone on a bench would shout "Squeeze in here Son" and everyone would "hutch up" to make room. As an aside, drinking on your own was, I would suggest, much more common then and not remarked on, never mind being looked on pejoratively or askance.

As a seasoned pub goer through six decades, of course I have noticed that pubs have changed - or evolved if you prefer. I have written in the past about house style when most pubs were owned by breweries, but that isn't it exactly.  I suspect the disconnect from vertical ownership speeded internal design changes, as did changes to drinking patterns and customer preferences. That and the march of time plus the accompanying desperate need to attract customers in a declining market.  Pubs we opened out to become one big space. In most cases, public bars were removed for more eating space, or to simply remove the need to have two bars and two sets of staff looking after them.  Tables aimed at four or six people became the norm, with uncomfortable high tables dotted about (not so attractive as you get older and one's clambering is no longer up to scratch) and, importantly, in many cases bench seating was ripped out.

Which brings me back to why I am writing this.  The removal of bench seating isn't universal. In the case of two of my local brewers, JW Lees and Joseph Holt, even in their recently refurbished pubs, bench seating forms a part of the offer.  The problem is, though, that few know how to use it any more.

Last Friday, early evening, I met my wife in the Roebuck, a recent acquisition by Joseph Holt, which has since been extensively and expensively refurbished. It has proved extremely popular and is the nearest pub to me. I like Joey's bitter, so good news.  It has plentiful bench seating of various types. Now, I like the room on the right as you go in. I arrived, and the place was buzzing.  I glanced round and while no tables were free, I noted that in the two large benched areas below the windows, there was plenty of room. Well, if people moved up a bit.  I ordered our two drinks and surveyed the scene standing at the bar while waiting for E. Others were looking for seats too, and I noticed two people approach a group who were using the area on my left. There was room. They asked, "Is anyone sitting there?" and were told that there was, and they were at the bar. Not so, but the enquirers however sought solace elsewhere.

In the meantime, I had been asked "Are you all right there?" as above, despite having two drinks in front of me. Ho Hum. The other area of bench seating had two people sitting there. I should add that each area has a table or tables opposite the benches.  They were sitting opposite each other, leaving three seats to their left and around five on the window bench. To their left, a group of teachers were spread out. (I know this because they later told me.) I approached and as a politeness - as you do - said, "Is it all right if we sit here?" The male, probably older than me, said "Well you can sit there", gesturing in the direction of the teachers. Hmm. I pointed out that the pub was busy and that they were taking up between two, around nine seats, but the teachers said they'd squeeze up, and with some mutterings on both sides, the matter was left there.

Now thinking on, you often see in busy pubs, (like busy trains), coats and bags covering free seats. And these days, unlike the habit in Germany, it is unusual to see strangers sharing a table. I recall last winter, in the Commercial in London, asking a couple if we could sit at a bench, where six could be accommodated.  They thought I was asking them to move elsewhere, until I explained that I just wanted them to shift their arses along to make room, a notion that seemed alien to them.

Oddly, this aspect of pub etiquette isn't really covered much at all in t'interweb. Google is pretty well silent about it, amongst plenty of other advice about how to behave in pubs, but I'll add another point. While seated on a bench, any adjacent table is fair game to rest your pint on, unless someone is eating at that table. 

Moving on, this reluctance to share with strangers is covered by social anthropologist Kate Fox in her excellent book "Watching the English" . It pertains to public transport, but I believe also to public houses, though in that case for sure, it should be overcome.

"The Denial Rule

Our main coping mechanism is a form of what psychologists call ‘denial’: we try to avoid acknowledging that we are among a scary crowd of strangers, and to maintain as much privacy as possible, by pretending that they do not exist – and, much of the time, pretending that we do not exist either. The denial rule requires us to avoid talking to strangers, or even making eye contact with them, or indeed acknowledging their presence in any way unless absolutely necessary."

It need not be so, so here are a few simple rules to follow when encountering bench seating in a pub.

Rule 1:  Expect to share. You are in a pub. A pub is a shared space

Rule 2:  If sitting in the middle, expect to have people sit on either side of you

Rule 3: In a booth style, if sitting at the apex, rule 2 applies

Rule 4: Don't try to fill empty places with coats and bags

Rule 5: Any table adjacent is communal, unless eating

Rule 6: Be ready to hutch up

Rule7: Be welcoming and friendly. 

Rule 8: Remember Rule 1 always

So where does this leave us.  Well, if you are in a pub and someone asks if they can sit adjacent to you, your first thought should be, assuming it is possible and reasonable to do so,  "Of course, I'll hutch up a bit".  If your thoughts are otherwise, either don't go to the pub, or learn a bit of basic pub and human etiquette. It is written down for you now, so if in doubt, cut and keep.

In fact, when out in Manchester yesterday, bench seating was actually common, so maybe I have overestimated its demise. But it was mid-afternoon and quiet.

I recommend, as I have before, Kate's book. The link above is a free download.  Well worth doing, especially if you are clueless about how pubs should work.

Rock Up or Line Up?

There has recently been a lot of chat on social media about an emerging practice, in some pubs, of forming an orderly line at the bar.  An actual queue, as if you are in the baker's, or at the till in a supermarket. Now, most of us know that queuing at the bar is the antithesis of British pub drinking. Rocking up to the bar and jockeying to get served is rooted in the cultural and social norms that define the traditional British pub experience. Here’s why:

British pubs are known for their informal and relaxed atmosphere. Customers typically stand or sit around the bar, and barstaff serve patrons in a seemingly spontaneous and natural order, hopefully based on who arrives first or - and this shouldn't really happen, but it does - on who catches the eye.  This lack of a formal queue however encourages social interaction. Pubgoers chat with one another while waiting, creating a convivial and communal atmosphere. 

Drinking in a British pub is, by and large, a communal experience in a shared space. The bar itself is part of that shared space and is, one might readily argue, a key part of it, where the act of getting a drink is a cooperative experience rather than a solitary task. People naturally form clusters rather than lines, fostering a sense of community. This in turn encourages socialising and mingling, as opposed to the more isolated experience of standing in a queue. Actually, for many, a chit-chat with others at the bar is all part of what makes a pub what it is and what makes it different from, for example, a continental bar.  

 

Of course, all this kind of goes against the grain of the British penchant for queues, does it not? Well, not really. As the anthropologist, Kate Fox wrote in her book Watching the English: "In our drinking-places, however, we do not form an orderly queue at all:we gather haphazardly along the bar counter. At first, this struck me as contrary to all English instincts, rules and customs, until I realised that there is in fact a queue, an invisible queue, and that both the bar staff and the customers are aware of each person’s position in it. Everyone knows who is next: the person who reached the bar counter before you will be served before you, and any obvious attempt to get served out of turn will be ignored by the bar staff and severely frowned upon by other customers. In other words, it will be treated as queue-jumping. The system is not infallible, but English bar staff are exceptionally skilled at identifying who is next in the invisible queue." In fact, there is an unwritten code of conduct that regular pub-goers understand and follow. This includes recognising when it's your turn and respecting others' place without the need for a formal line. It encourages patience and politeness, with everyone, trusting that they will be served in turn. This mutual respect reinforces the communal and friendly atmosphere.

 

Additionally, regulars frequently build a rapport with the bar staff, and the informal approach allows them to acknowledge and even, in some cases - and why not if done sparingly - prioritise familiar faces who provide much of the regular custom. This skill contributes to the unique dynamic of British pubs.

 

— Alastair Hilton (@London_W4) November 3, 2022

The queue, in contrast, is more of a formal, structured activity that can feel impersonal and rigid, which contrasts sharply with the relaxed and informal nature of a British pub.  It can even be seen as disrupting the traditional and cherished practices of British pubs. It introduces a level of order and control that feels out of place in an environment valued for its organic and spontaneous interactions. Even worse, it can be seen as diminishing the character and charm that make these establishments special. Warmth and social engagement are hallmarks of the pub experience.  As Pub Curmudgeon wrote on his blog "The interaction between staff and customers, and between customers at the bar, is a crucial part of the atmosphere of pubs. Much of that is lost if people are just sitting at tables and tapping at a phone to get their drinks brought to them."

 

In essence, queuing at the bar contradicts the intrinsic qualities of British pub culture, which thrives on informal, social, and communal drinking experiences. The organic and fluid method of being served at the bar is a fundamental aspect of what makes the British pub a beloved institution. We shouldn't muck about with it.

I have written about this previously, as has Pub Curmudgeon, Both are worth a read, but in the end, despite being quite even handed, Mudgie is right when he says  "This trend has undoubtedly been exacerbated by the impact of Covid and lockdowns. Customers have become more used to standing in line, and somewhat nervous about a crush at the bar.

It undoubtedly does detract from a traditional pub atmosphere, taking away the opportunity to chat with staff or other customers at the bar......... It’s just turning a pub into a retail outlet where the prime objective is the efficient processing of customers" 

 

 

Don't Roll Up - Queue Up

The tradition of buying at the bar and, if you feel like it, standing at the bar while supping your drink, is a long and honourable one. Passport to the Pub, published in 1996 by Kate Fox, a British social anthropologist, says of this:

 " Rule number one: There is no waiter service in British pubs. You have to go up to the bar to buy your drinks, and carry them back to your table"

She goes on to say, with particular regard to those more familiar with table service:

"Once they are aware of the no-waiter-service rule in British pubs, most tourists recognise it as an advantage, rather than an inconvenience. Having to go up to the bar for your drinks ensures plenty of opportunities for social contact between customers......... It is much easier to drift casually into a spontaneous chat while waiting at the bar than deliberately to break into the conversation at another table. 

Like every other aspect of pub etiquette, the no-waiter-service system is designed to promote sociability. The bar counter in a pub is possibly the only site in the British Isles in which friendly conversation with strangers is considered entirely appropriate and normal behaviour."

I recently tweeted this photo of a sign in Wetherspoons, which appears to turn this logic on its head. In no uncertain terms, it urges customers to "Keep the Bar Area Clear."  I said at the time it was most unpublike, and this caused a cascade of comments tending to agree with me, but as always, when commenting on JDW, a plethora of snobbishness about the chain were liberally sprinkled over the main point, including untruths about the company's attitude to Covid and its staff, as well as slurs about the type of people who frequent such dens of iniquity. Most unedifying, but in the main it was agreed this isn't the right thing to do. It is not a pub if you instruct people to queue up.

What I failed to do was point out which JDW this sign appeared at - and I have to say, I haven't seen it elsewhere.  When we first encountered the very busy area in which Tandleman Towers South is located, the area was much different. Almost derelict in many parts, and certainly the busy and bustling Leman Street was nothing like it is now.  The whole area was dead at the weekend and when the nearby huge Royal Bank of Scotland Processing Centre, wasn't at full tilt, the place was quiet. No pizza places, supermarkets, modern bars or brand new multi-storey flats, never mind the now sizeable student accommodation. You had to hop on a tube elsewhere for entertainment, though on the plus side, a few proper East End pubs hadn't yet been swept away. 

In that scenario, imagine our astonishment when a new Wetherspoons opened in the area.  In fairness, things were slightly picking up, but many a time we'd have a drink in the new Goodman's Field and wonder how stupid Timbo was in throwing his money away on what was clearly a white elephant.  Then, slowly but surely, the hotels started to open. There are now plenty from budget to mid-range, and the hitherto empty JDW began to thrive with each new opening.  Looking back on it, you can see why. The river and Tower Bridge are nearby, as is the Tower of London. There are tube stations and buses with easy transport for town and elsewhere.  Most may well offer food and drink, but not as cheaply as Wetherpoons.  Most of the visitors come from abroad, and I think it's fair to say that the majority of customers are not British. 

So, in this scenario, it is perhaps understandable, that a request to queue at the tills has been introduced to keep things simple for those who are just not used to jostling for attention at the bar, never mind facing the inevitable call of "Who's next?"   Yes, it annoys us Brits, especially those who have honed to a razor sharpness, how to get served in a busy pub first, but on the charitable side, it probably makes life easier all round, and to be fair, in my experience the rule is relaxed a tad when not so busy.

In this situation, perhaps Kate Fox would give a little wriggle room and forgive, as I do, this major transgression of pub etiquette.

Are Wetherspoon's many outlets really pubs? I think the jury is still out on that one, but not for the reasons above.

In the Goodman's Field, Kate's Rule Number two is often seen more in the breach than the observance: "It is customary for one or two people, not the whole group, to go up to the bar to buy drinks." Probably another good reason for the sign.

All rights to Kate's book are the Brewers and Licensed Retailers Association.

 

Knowing the Score

I did my bit of culture yesterday by visiting the RAF Museum at Hendon. A must for a buff like me, though I have been before. Later I had intended that we follow a pub crawl around the St Paul's area and accordingly I met E in the Bell,down the side of Cannon St station. It is a spartan little boozer, still tricked out as a Courage pub and quite likeable. After work it was full, though I found a seat beside two businessmen and eavesdropped on a long tedious discussion about conservatories. Such is pub life. Harvey's Bitter was my choice, though frankly it did little for me. The choice (all brown) did less for E, who declined a drink.

So off we went to the Nicolsons run Old Watling. This is a good pub and offered two light beers, though the Roosters True Grit went off as I ordered it. Our second choice of Jaipur was, well, just like Jaipur is these days. Below ordinary, but fortunately a new Roosters came on and was decent enough.  Next up was the Cockpit and another pub that I liked. Absolutely crowded, but we found a corner to stand in the bottom of the pub. Beside us, a young couple sat on bench seats, spread out so that a space that would have fitted four or five, was theirs alone. Her coat and handbag took up two spaces and he took up the rest. I sipped my Adnams and observed. She read the Evening Standard, he was texting like mad. They didn't speak and their glasses were empty. After a while the girl glanced up and looked at us. She asked if we'd like to squeeze in. He didn't make any move or even look at us, so we declined. About 20 minutes later they left.

Our next and final stop was Shaw's Bookshop. Our friends from the Cockpit were there at a table. Amazingly she said "Hello". I joked back that I hoped they were buying a drink this time. They grinned sheepishly.

A pub is a shared space. Knowing  and observing pub etiquette is important to make the system work properly and for the benefit of all.

Thanks to Perryluke for the crawl. Two pubs I'll be back to are the Cockpit and the Old Watling.