A Handbook of Health

by Woods Hutchinson

It was discovered long ago, almost as soon as men began to put themselves into training for athletic feats or contests, that alcohol was not only useless, but very injurious. Any champion who, on the eve of a contest, "breaks training" by "taking a drink," knows that he is endangering his record and giving his competitors an advantage over him.

Its Deadening Effect. In short, we must conclude that the so-called stimulating effects of alcohol are really due to its power of deadening us to sensations of discomfort or fatigue. Its boasted power of making men more "sociable" by loosening their tongues is due to precisely the same effect: it takes off the balance-wheels of custom, reserve, and propriety—too often of decency, as well. This is where the greatest and most serious danger of alcohol comes in, that even in the smallest doses, it begins to deaden us both mentally and morally, and thus lessens our power of control. This loss of control steadily increases with each successive drink until finally the man, completely under the influence of liquor, reaches a stage when he can neither think rationally nor speak intelligently, nor even walk straight or stand upright—making the most humiliating and disgusting spectacle which humanity can present.

Harmful Effects on the Body. All doctors and scientists and thoughtful men are now practically agreed: First, that alcohol in excess is exceedingly dangerous and injurious, and one of the most serious enemies that modern civilization has to face.

Second, that even in the smallest doses, as a deadener of the sense of discomfort, it blinds the man who takes it to the harm it is doing and, as soon as its temporary comforting effects begin to pass off, naturally leads its victim to resort to it again in increasing doses. In fact, unlike a true food which quickly satisfies, the use of alcohol too often creates an appetite that grows by what it feeds on, and is never satisfied. For every natural appetite or instinct, nature provides a check; but she provides none for tastes that must be acquired. The last man to find out that he is taking too much is the drinker himself. Taken first to relieve discomfort, its own poisonous after-effects create a new and permanent demand for it.

The third point on which agreement is almost unanimous among scientists and physicians is that, as will be seen in later chapters, there are a considerable number of diseases of the liver, of the heart and blood vessels, of the kidneys, and of the nervous system, which are produced by, or almost always associated with, alcohol. There are, for instance, three different kinds of alcoholic insanity. It is true that these disease-changes most commonly occur in the tissues of those who use alcohol to excess; and it is also probably true that what the alcoholic poison is doing in these cases, is picking out the weak spots in the body and the weaker individuals in the community. Even the strongest and best of us have our little weaknesses of digestion, of nerves, and of disposition that we know of, as well as others that we are not acquainted with. And what is the use of running the risk of having these picked out and made worse in this dangerous and unpleasant manner, just for the sake of a little temporary indulgence?

Moreover, while it is admitted that most of these harmful effects of alcohol are produced by its use in excess, it is daily becoming a more and more difficult matter to decide just how much is "excess." It certainly differs widely in different individuals, and in different organs and parts in the same body. An amount of alcohol which one man might possibly take without harm may greatly injure another; and its frequent use, though it does not produce the slightest sign of intoxication, or even of discomfort, or headache, may be slowly and fatally damaging the cells of the liver or kidney. In fact, the conviction is growing among scientists that alcohol does the greatest harm in this slow, insidious way without its user's realizing it in any way until too late to break the fearful habit.

It may even be perfectly true that alcohol seriously injures not more than ten or fifteen per cent of those who take it in small quantities; but how can you tell whether you, or your liver, or kidney, or nerve cells, belong in the ten per cent or the ninety per cent class? On general principles, it would hardly seem worth while making the test simply for the sake of finding out. You never can quite tell what alcohol has done to you, until the post mortem (after death) examination—and then the question will not interest you very much.

Its Effect upon Character. Just as alcohol deadens the body and the senses, especially the higher ones—so it has a terrible effect upon the mental and moral sides of our natures. The results of the use of alcohol are so well known that it is unnecessary here to either describe or picture them. All that is needed is to keep our eyes open upon the street, and read the police reports. What good effects upon man's better nature has alcohol to show as an offset for this dreadful tendency to bring out the worst and lowest in man?

Increasing Knowledge of the Bad Effects of Alcohol is Decreasing its Use. It is most impressive that almost everything we have found out about alcohol in the short time that we have been studying it carefully has been to its discredit. Fifty years ago beer and wine, all over the civilized world, were commonly regarded as foods. Now they are not considered true foods, but harmful beverages. Fifty years ago alcohol was believed to improve the digestion and increase the appetite. Now we know that it does neither. It was believed to increase working power, and has now been clearly shown to diminish it. It was supposed to increase the thinking power and stimulate the imagination, and now we know that it dulls and muddles both.

Fifty years ago it was freely used as medicine for all sorts of illnesses, both by doctor and patient; it was supposed to stimulate the heart, to sustain the strength, to increase the power of the body to resist disease, and to sustain and support life in emergencies. Now we know that practically all these claims are unfounded, and that such value as it has in medicine is chiefly as a narcotic, as a deadener of the sense of discomfort. As a result, it is already used in medicine only about one-fourth as much as it was fifty years ago, and its use is still steadily decreasing.