The glory of the round and the curse of the shirker

Get them in! It’s your shout...

We all know pubs are a minefield of social etiquette, but nowhere is it more acute than the issue of ‘the round’.  Some psychologists believe that it has its origins in the notorious emotional repression of the Anglo Saxon male, traditionally reluctant to express feelings of gratitude towards their contemporaries, fearful of letting their guard down or, even worse, arousing suspicion of other intentions. In all likelihood, much as we might want to claim the round as a gloriously British invention, it is clearly a global ritual, practised in watering holes across cultures, continents and generations.

In fact, the round may have, surprisingly deeper roots;  Desmond Morris goes as far as to say “The central role of exchange and reciprocal giving in the establishment and reaffirmation of social bonds has long been recognised by anthropologists, sociologists and even zoologists, so fundamental is this practice to the survival of any social species. In almost all drinking-places, in almost all cultures, the unwritten laws and customs involve some form of reciprocal drink-buying or sharing of drinks”. Wow. Clearly someone has given what happens down the Nag’s Head some serious thought… And at least I can take comfort that when being badgered to get six pints of real ale in by the thirsty, baying throng not only is some poor soul at the other end of the world getting equal verbal harassment, but my very presence at the bar is actually an essential part of human evolution! 

We can intellectualise all we want, but this will not make the subtle but in actual fact highly regulated practice any less fraught with difficulty. Mistakes are inevitable for the uninitiated. But a much graver crime is that of the transgressor. There is no quicker way to becoming a social outcast than breaching the rules of the round. Everybody knows one (or at the very least harbours suspicions) and virtually every pub has one. They come in different guises too. Avoidance tactics may be subtle like the well timed trips to the toilet, the convenient need to tie shoelaces or take a phone call. Others suffer from ‘selective memory’ or for the more brazen, there is the blatant ride-out. Easily acquired, the reputation of a ‘shirker’ is almost impossible to lose. No amount of pro-active drink buying afterwards will restore credibility; in fact it will just arouse further suspicion. It can even damage careers - just ask Nicholas Sarkozy whose election campaign allegedly suffered a fatal blow when he left without paying for a round of drinks and irate villagers bombarded the media with the story!

Shirkers aside, there are some tricky middle ground rules to adhere to. Late arrivals can throw a spanner in the works. What happens if you don’t know everyone in the group? Is it fair for drivers to get one in? And what about the annoying couple who only buy one pint between them but happily take two? And that’s all before you address that sneaky double whiskey drinker…

Over the years, there have been other, slightly more serious complications. The alleged social pressures it confers have more than once been blamed for excessive alcohol consumption. In fact in the First World War it even, remarkably, became a criminal offence to ‘treat’ another customer to a beer. Not the most popular of laws on the statute books I’m sure.  But despite all the issues, the round is a unique social bonding experience. We are all creatures of habit and it is one of the many comforting rituals that draw us to the pub. The British pub has its own unique ecosystem and behavioural traits that have been passed down throughout its rich history. The round is just one of them. But surely, of them all, there is nothing more satisfying than telling someone else it is their turn at the bar...