Punish airport louts who can’t handle their drink, not the rest of us

Ryanair’s proposal to limit travellers to two drinks before a flight might be superficially appealing, but it won’t fix the problem

Confession: I like a drink at an airport. In fact, I will go even further and say that drinking in airports, at its best, is one of the great pleasures of travel, like those tiny but handy towels in good hotels, or finding obscure local dishes that are genuinely delicious (hint: try the zama in Moldova).
Such is my liking for a sharpener at an airport, I can actually remember standout examples. For instance, there is a great bar on the roof of the lounge at Pokhara Airport in Nepal. Drinking an al-fresco beer there, as you gaze at the glittery, sunlit peaks of the Himalayas, is profoundly pleasurable. Similarly, the seafood bar at Terminal 5, Heathrow. Yes, I know it is absurdly overpriced, but sitting down to cold chablis and half a dozen Helford natives as I wait for my flight tells me: this is where the fun starts. 
This is one reason why I think Ryanair boss Michael O’Leary’s proposal to limit air passengers to two drinks before a flight (perhaps via the scanning of boarding passes) is misguided. Even if it seems superficially appealing.
I am not denying there is an issue. I fly all the time, and have friends in Ibiza (a destination cited by O’Leary as a particular problem). My Ibizan friends regularly describe the horrors of the planes landing from regional British airports (again, these are explicitly referenced by O’Leary). The travellers are decanted from the plane in a state of total intoxication, and it’s not just booze. That’s obviously not fun for anyone on the plane who isn’t completely blotto, especially the cabin crew.
I’ve also experienced this directly. There are few things worse than getting on a long-haul flight to Bangkok and realising as you take off that you are surrounded by a large stag party intent on drinking its way to Asia (except, perhaps, realising you are the only non supporter of Celtic football club on a plane to Barcelona).
However, as I say, despite these very real problems, I am against O’Leary’s hardline policy. The first reason is implied above. At its best, an airport can and should be part of the holiday experience, and that includes getting a bit squiffy. When we arrive at the airport, we want to feel we are basically already on the beach. And why not? Just don’t overdo it. 
A second reason I believe the idea is misguided is because, too often, airports aren’t like this. They are not fun. They are crowded, stressful, labyrinthine, bureaucratic and full of screaming babies or passengers with 98 items of oversized luggage. 
What do you need to de-stress from all this? Yes, a drink, and maybe four drinks, not two. As for O’Leary’s complaint that the drinking gets out of hand when planes are delayed by 10 hours, has he considered not having planes delayed by 10 hours? Maybe that would sort the problem better than his proposed cancelling of our tickets if we have a third pint of Staropramen.
A final reason I believe O’Leary’s proposal is wrong-headed is this: it simply won’t work. People will drink before they arrive, or they will sneak in vodka or gin as water into Departures (how do you police that?), or they will turn to the “pills and powders” he already says are a growing problem. 
Or – and this may particularly impact the opinion of Ryanair’s ultra-capitalist chief executive – airports that don’t have restrictions, and don’t care about Ryanair, will gain customers and grow, and airports that do inspect your spritzers will lose custom and shrink, and eventually Ryanair might not make such big profits. Or go out of business. I imagine O’Leary won’t be hugely keen on that.
No, the answer is boringly simple. Airports make lots of money from booze, so let them spend some of it on policing – strictly – the behaviour of the lairy minority. Chuck a few boozy louts out of the airport as a stern deterrent. But don’t ruin the fun of the many because of the sins of the few.