God Save Our Gracious Pub: Why We Need The Pub Now More Than Ever

It’s nearly here.

In just five days’ time, the largest sporting event in the world kicks off for its 23rd edition. The FIFA World Cup, undoubtedly the most watched, most successful and most celebrated tournament in the world will again enrapture the general public, and take over our lives for the next 5 weeks. I’ll neglect, for now, to comment on my predictions, but safe to say I’m very excited. It is the absolute pinnacle of spectacle and excitement, and although controversy from all sides seeks to distract from this anticipation (as seems to be a recurring theme for this competition over its most recent editions), I’m struck with a wholly different conundrum entirely – where to watch the games?

Of course, some fixtures will be resigned to half-eye-open couch potato viewing and others will be totally missed outright, but others deserve more than this. For a tournament that only comes around once every four years, a certain ceremony should be awarded. I am implicitly suggesting that these should, as tradition dictates, be viewed amongst slurring screaming drunks, at one of Britain’s finest institutions: the pub.

Strangely though, unlike in previous years, I’ve seen very little fanfare from local establishments. No sandwich boards advertising fixture showings, a limited number of postered windows parading home nations games – is my excitement not shared? I anticipate this is down to one of two important factors. The first, and the more practical in terms of pub operating hours, is the timing of some of the fixtures. For example, Group C’s match between Scotland vs Brazil (June 24th) is scheduled to kick off at 11pm. Assuming no acts of God or ridiculous added time, this would mean the match ends at around 1.45am. It had previously been announced by Mr Starmer that licensing hours during the World Cup would be extended or relaxed, to accommodate such a seismic event. But even as powerful as the Prime Minister might be, he can’t compel them to stay open – and many likely will not. This is not a problem for England’s group stage fixtures, as all of them begin at either 9pm or 10pm – so what is the second reason for the more muted advertising at the pubs?

This is more speculative than my previous suggestion, but I think those three words that hang heavily over all our lives currently play a large role in it. The cost of living crisis lumbers on, seemingly with no solutions or end in sight. Inevitably, the belt tightening has led many people to forgo the pub and instead drink at home, and the pub industry has suffered significantly for at least the last 18 months. While not fossilised yet, Britain’s pub industry is facing significant hardships. As with every other aspect in the world at the moment, amenities are more costly than ever. Food and drink, keeping the lights on and staff costs are squeezing many pubs to the breaking point, and on top of this (as previously mentioned), punters are choosing alternative arrangements to avoid the costs inevitably being passed on to them.

In the last week, two unlikely pundits have commented on this issue. Future King, Prince William, covered in a piece by Sky News, commented on the chancellor’s tax rises and their inexorable consequences for pubs across the country. Visiting a pub in Peckham on a press round, the broadcaster stated in their article that ‘around two pubs closed each day in the first three months of the year, according to industry figures’, a startling and unsettling statistic. The BBPA (British Beer and Pubs Association) estimate that 161 pubs closed between January and March 2026. This is bleak, with a further 336 pubs having called time in 2025. Unlike the Chancellor, The Prince clearly understands the importance of the pub; quoted as saying ‘I want to do as much as I can to support them because I love the community… We need to protect our pubs’. Prince William's comments recognise a reality often overlooked in purely economic discussions: the value of a pub cannot be measured solely in profits and losses – it is in fact a British institution.

Conversely, and in direct response to this article, motoring journalist turned pub owner James May chimed in on LBC. Interviewed by Nick Ferrari, May suggested that ‘pubs are not actually institutions’, instead coldly describing them as businesses, a comparatively callous assessment. The host’s glib response that the law of the jungle should reign supreme, and that the local boozer ought to be subject to the same fate as other British staples seems blinkered to me. Of course, Mr May is in a privileged position. He has been lucky enough to take part-ownership in his own local, and while he does not rinse it for free meals and pints as some other more foolish publicans might, the irony of his statement seems lost on him. He has the money to financially support his pub through the current hardships that might otherwise see the doors close. He will likely not have to contemplate the idea of his local closing, because he owns it. May is correct that pubs must ultimately remain commercially viable. This is a reality of business. Yet, profitability alone cannot measure their value. Even if pubs are businesses, some businesses perform social functions that justify treating them differently. Maybe he won’t be showing the World Cup in his establishment, but this tournament poignantly reminds us of what the pub does so well, creating bonds and communities among strangers.

Obviously, pubs are a business like any other, and they must continue to be profitable ventures to stakeholders for them to remain open. But unlike other businesses, even within the service industry, pubs actually are cornerstones. This is where I emphatically disagree with Mr May. Sentimentality, likely, does anchor this position. But even the idea of the local pub – steeped in cigarette-stained carpets and stained wood walls is as much of a mainstay as the local church or butcher shop – two other establishments at risk of disappearing, but this is a topic for another article. This noted however, the loss of local identity highlights why it’s even more important to protect our pubs. It’s a place for the local population to congregate, relax, socialise and much more. The pub, for many people, is more than a social space, it is the hub of activity. In an ever-changing world, where many feel more isolated and disconnected than ever before, surely, we should be championing a community space that actively brings people together? Is the local pub not the natural antidote to a loneliness epidemic, a welcome escape from the lingering alienation imposed on our daily lives since the lockdowns of the COVID-19 pandemic? Even outside of festive or celebratory periods, sports, quizzes, raffles and charity events are all on offer – the pub becomes a vessel for gatherings, a place appreciated beyond the confines other businesses are restricted to. After all, it is an abbreviation for “the public house”. This is what James May fundamentally misunderstands, the decline of the local watering hole is not just a business going under, it can often be the heartbeat of a community being snuffed out. In this way, the pub is very much like a local sports team. Perhaps this is why it is so suited to hosting fans for large international sporting events.

Yes, pubs up and down the country have and will continue to close like any other business. This in isolation is not catastrophic. But clearly the industry is under existential threat, and the celebrity co-opts would prefer the general public to roll over and accept this fact as the natural product of the free-market economy. Me personally? I would prefer not to enjoy the pub as another chain pop-up. Perhaps the worst thing to happen to British pubs in the last 50 years is the rise of the Wetherspoons, the Greene Kings, etc. – the Americanisation of a British product slowly rotting it from the inside. With so much upheaval and uncertainty in modern British life, fixtures such as the pub surely deserve protection?

Remove all the personality and individuality from a pub, and these examples are what you’re left with. Stripped of any uniqueness, these pretenders steal a march on the proper boozer, and muscle out any genuine competition by under-cutting their prices and seizing the market opportunities that would otherwise allow a local to flourish. These pubs, void of true identity, are a mere approximation of what the British pub is. They forgo community, with large open-plan spaces and limited identifiable traits that render them lifeless. Instead, they actively damage the product they seek to imitate. Americanisation here is the shorthand for the commoditisation of the British pub industry. By applying a mass-market model, they are able to purchase produce at cheaper rates than local competitors, and standardise this over a growing empire of copy-and-paste duplicates across the country. This uniformity directly opposes the ethos of the British pub. Yes, Guinness might be served in your local and mine, but it would likely not be the same temperature, or poured at the same speed or even taste exactly the same. Instead, the differences are what make the British local unique. Rather than taking a chance on an independent local, consumers can now guarantee a familiar experience anywhere they go, often for a fraction of the price. Chain pubs prioritise uniformity and brand synergy over local identity. This corporate approach de-centres the pub as a community vessel, and relegates it to a business – as James May describes. This fundamentally misses the point. The challenge is not simply preserving pubs in name, but preserving the individuality and local character that made them valuable community institutions in the first place, while fighting against the encroachment of their mass-market competition.

May and Ferrari’s cynical response to Prince William’s assessment illuminates a certain superiority and arrogance. It smacks of an instance of ‘well I shan’t be affected, why should I be bothered?’. This may seem overly dramatic, when the world is in a more turbulent state than ever, but the pub is as British an invention as Yorkshire puddings, and as a symbol of national identity it should be protected as such. Not mocked and derided as just another business. James May is wrong then because his definition of value is too narrow. Even setting aside rising labour costs, higher taxes and more expensive stock, the broader point remains clear. Cultural capital is very important. And the pub and the community are intrinsically linked. It is the British expression of togetherness, and the loss of the pub clearly coincides with our general malaise and feeling of disconnectedness.

The closure of a pub is often discussed in economic terms: another failed business, another casualty of changing consumer habits. Yet that assessment misses the point entirely. A pub is not simply a place that sells alcohol. It is a meeting place, a venue, a support network and, in many communities, the last remaining public space that belongs to everyone. If England score a last-minute winner this summer, millions will leap from sofas, bar stools and garden chairs in celebration. But there is a reason the memories that endure are usually made in social spaces. Inside these packed pubs, shoulder to shoulder with friends and strangers alike, an inextricable connection is rekindled. Football, at its best, is communal. So too is the pub. We’re in grave danger of losing a social fabric that ties a community together. In an age increasingly defined by isolation, convenience and individualism, both remind us that some experiences are simply better shared. That is why the pub still matters. And why Britain needs it now more than ever.