Americans used to get a booze break at 11 a.m., but the Industrial Revolution killed that. Sad.
‘Elevenses’ consisted of workplace whiskey…and why don’t we still do this?
You’ve had an excruciating work day. Your boss moved your deadline up, an irate customer yelled at you over an expired coupon, or maybe your desk mate smacked through an egg salad sandwich with his mouth open. Happy hour couldn’t come soon enough.
In the 19th century, you wouldn’t have had to wait. Start drinking before lunch, why don’t you? The tradition of “elevenses” meant it was customary for workers to take a break at, you guessed it, 11 a.m. In most cases, the respite was synonymous with a tug from the ol’ bottle.
Elevenses followed the relatively young English tradition of tea time. Typically we think of afternoon tea, but in the early 1800s, members of the British upper class and professionals began breaking for a more informal sip and snack around mid-morning. Many Spanish-speaking countries perform a similar ritual which they call once, the word for “eleven.” In Australia, it’s called smoko and you can probably infer why. In the Lord of the Rings series, even J.R.R. Tolkien’s hobbits enjoyed elevenses — that is, after their first breakfast and second breakfast, and before lunch.
But the U.S. didn’t take to tea the same way. Instead, the 1820s coincided with a massive corn surplus. In order to use up supply, farmers distilled the corn into whiskey and flooded the market with cheap liquor. Americans binged. Soon, the average man was putting away half a pint of hard stuff every day, the equivalent of five gallons every year per American. According to a 2003 New York Times article by Michael Pollan, these days it’s less than one gallon.
Boozing wasn’t very taboo at first. In our new “alcoholic republic,” people (mostly men) passed the bottle at all waking hours. Employers were actually expected to provide hooch throughout the workday. It made sense that the mid-morning break now common in modern work environments naturally paired with whiskey. Thus, the American definition of elevenses was born.
Britons were stunned. While they steeped across the pond, their hedonistic brothers were getting liquored up on the clock. Though appalled, they were also kind of impressed. “Come on then, if you love toping,’’ wrote British journalist William Cobbett during a visit to America. “For here you may drink yourself blind at the price of sixpence.’’ (By the way, we should resurrect “toping.”)
Naturally, the trend wasn’t sustainable. As more people moved to cities during the Industrial Revolution, foremen discovered that factory labor wasn’t sauce-sympathetic. Tipsy workers were liable to fumble machinery and cause dangerous accidents, not to mention fall asleep on the job. Outside the office, drunkenness became a public nuisance. At one point, Manhattan had 9,000 bars for just under a million people. And these taverns offered more than just giggle juice — prostitution and violence were commonplace. The oxymoron “innocent syphilis” was coined just before the mid-19th century. Soon, Americans worried that booze was destroying the family unit, a refrain that ultimately helped lead to Prohibition.
But before that could happen, workplaces mostly clamped down on liquor and elevenses tapered off. However, unions and a stream of employment legislation maintained that a series of breaks throughout the workday was necessary for safety and productivity. So, they replaced whiskey with joe and the coffee break was born.
These days, we’re facing mixed messages once again. Federal law does not require employers to offer lunch or coffee breaks. Only 21 states require lunch breaks, and seven mandate additional rest periods. Hourly workers often feel the biggest brunt. On the other hand, startups and “creative” office environments appear more lax, offering perks like in-house beer kegs.
Then again, maybe the whole point is to get out of the office for an end-of-day cocktail. Bring back elevenses and we’ll talk.
