A good pub is my Roman Empire. I think about them at least daily. Not just because I have opinions about pubs, I do, which is probably not surprising if you’ve been around these parts for a while now. But also because pubs are far more fascinating, and important, than we think. 

One of my strongly held opinions is that the U.S. is incapable of having pubs - anything called a pub in the States is just cosplay. It’s not just the physical space itself, but about how we congregate, talk, and coexist. The American bar selects its crowd before anyone even walks in the door. Or maybe we self-select. Either way it’s antithetical to the purpose of a pub, where the whole community - men, women, young, old, rich, poor - can exist. Held strongly perhaps, but I’d love to be proven wrong.

And then there’s the soul. Most people have a relatively fixed idea of what the pub is and has always been - a place to drink. If pressed, they’d conjure an old building, a dark wood bar, a fireplace, a pint of Guinness. That’s not wrong, but it doesn’t tell the full story. Before there were courthouses, pubs held hearings. Before theaters, pubs put on shows. Before music halls, pubs had concerts. The drinking changed too - some used to just sell wine (taverns), others only ale (alehouses). They’re less stuffy old institutions, more living ones, always amenable to whatever a community needed.

A few years ago I talked to Dan Chadwick, owner of one of my favorite pubs in England, who talked about the soul of pub: 

“You don’t put your taste into the pub. It’s not your taste, it’s a pub. You understand the history of the objects, the natural things that accumulate in a pub - a trophy for this or this, a bit of plastic, the type of packaging that you just keep. You don’t apply taste and expect people to like it. You don’t need anyone’s approval. You just let it be.”

That organic energy is what makes them fascinating, and because of it, if you look closely enough you’ll probably learn something about a place. 

A few weeks ago I was in the Cotswolds, a region that has evolved from wool-powered market towns to sleepy agricultural backwater to countryside playground for well-heeled Londoners. It’s a history and evolution you can feel by visiting a few pubs throughout the region.