I attended an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting last night. It’s a gathering I’ve dropped in on from time to time over the years, typically held at a church with around 200 attendees every Saturday night.
To my surprise, there were fewer participants than usual. This has been happening more frequently. Just the week before, a conference I attended was also half the typical crowd.
It feels odd, especially given how rampant drug issues seem in major cities these days. I mean, saying someone has a “drinking problem” almost sounds strange.
Attendance at AA meetings tends to fluctuate. One meeting might gain traction for a while, and then interest shifts to another.
The pandemic also had an impact on these meetings. With the convenience of Zoom, many now prefer the comfort of home.
As I sipped my coffee, the first speaker, a Texan, took the stage. Hearing his accent and wild drinking tales was entertaining. The next speaker, a woman, shared her story of hitting rock bottom in Los Angeles while in the film industry, and the final speaker was a local guy who revealed he had been battling alcohol addiction since he was just 13.
A simple life
I’ve been sober for a while now, so I know the AA narrative well. Each story is unique, but they follow a familiar pattern and use specific language that resonates with members.
This aspect, this rhythm, is comforting. Listening to someone share their journey always feels like a relief to me.
Yet, as I sat there, an unsettling thought crossed my mind; is AA becoming outdated? If I, in my 60s, enjoy these meetings, I can only imagine how a younger person might view them—probably as quite archaic.
AA’s glory days
Founded in the 1930s, AA has saved countless lives and significantly improved many others over the years.
In religious discussions, AA is often regarded as one of the most significant spiritual movements of the last century.
But what about today? Can it sustain its relevance in the long run?
It’s interesting to think about its founders—primarily white Christian men from professional backgrounds. As the organization grew, it became more inclusive of women, youth, and various ethnic and social groups.
Still, remnants of its original framework linger, and such origins can make organizations vulnerable to scrutiny from activists, even well-intentioned ones.
So far, nobody has labeled AA as sexist or racist, but there’s always the possibility of criticism.
Its structure can feel similar to a church: prayers, discussions about God, and many meetings hosted in church basements.
Historically, socialist and communist regimes have been known to suppress religious institutions. While it’s unlikely that AA will face outright closure, there could always be attempts to delegitimize it.
To drink or not to drink
Is alcoholism still a significant societal issue? Clearly, it is. But is it on par with fentanyl or other drugs?
It generally takes years of drinking to cause serious health issues, while some modern street drugs can lead to death in a matter of days.
Given the visible struggles of substance abuse in cities, labeling someone with a “drinking problem” feels oddly misplaced.
In recent years, alcohol seems to be less favored as a recreational option. Back in the 1940s and 1950s, drinking was almost ingrained in social life, with icons like the Rat Pack epitomizing that culture. Not drinking was practically unthinkable for men.
That viewpoint has shifted, though men still manage to enjoy beverages—now even opting for fancy bottled water.
Teenagers and alcohol
What about teenagers today? Do they still drink? I suspect they do, but perhaps in different contexts.
When I was in high school, alcohol was central to our socializing. It was just part of how we engaged with others.
Today, social lives largely play out online. Teens are focused on gaming, scrolling through media, and texting rather than gathering in person.
I can’t say I was particularly articulate when I was drunk. Perhaps that’s why stimulants like Adderall are trending now—sharpening the mind, rather than muddling it.
Looking ahead
I have no desire for Alcoholics Anonymous to fade into irrelevance; I value it deeply. It saved my life, and the friendships I’ve made there are irreplaceable.
However, our world is changing rapidly, and that will inevitably affect AA. I truly hope it adapts and thrives in the future.
Because when I’m feeling restless or overwhelmed, I need a place like that—a spot to sip bad coffee, relax, and connect with fellow recovering alcoholics.
