I've been trying not to use the word 'alcoholic' for some time now. At one point in our history of understanding alcohol problems it was a step forward. Identifying a 'disease' allows people to stop blaming themselves for an addictive behaviour and do something about it.

But there is no scientific basis for a disease called alcoholism, and that's been one reason for the medical profession taking up whole population approaches to alcohol-related harm, as well as a slide back towards the moralism that came before 'alcoholism'.

Enough isms. What I really wanted to do was to make a few remarks about last week's Panorama, in which Tony Blair's former spin doctor Alastair Campbell looked at Britain's Hidden Alcoholics.*

Ironically, Campbell is living proof that alcoholism is a myth. He's a recovering alcoholic who is able to continue drinking moderately without getting into difficulties, as a large proportion of 'alcoholics' are able to do.

Another thing in his favour is that he's sceptical of the attention focused on binge-drinking young working class people rather than the deeper issue of those with chronic drink problems, the 'hidden alcoholics' of the title.

For Campbell, this is a problem of the middle classes, fuelled by the growth of wine in the UK and hidden by their ability to function at quite a high level – until some crisis is reached, at any rate.

We meet several people of this sort in the show, articulate, educated people who have an understanding of their predicament and are trying to deal with it. Good for them.

I'm sorry to tell Campbell, though, that they are the lucky ones.

If you look at the statistics on alcohol consumption by how rich you are, the wealthiest fifth of the population do indeed drink slightly more than the poorest fifth. Yet the poorest fifth are six or seven times more likely to die an alcohol-related death than the wealthiest fifth.

This is because dying of drink is over determined by other factors such as depression, obesity, nutrition and social conditions in general. It would be reasonable to say that it's not the alcohol that kills poor people, it's the poverty.

Of course, middle class people die, too. But they have a much better chance of survival. And it explains, too, why they are better at 'functioning'. They also present well on television documentaries.

Meanwhile, most hidden alcoholics remain hidden.

*Available on BBC iPlayer until March 4:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b01cmqdc/Panorama_Britains_Hidden_Alcoholics/

David Cameron’s pronouncements on the drink ‘scandal’ last week* inevitably provoked renewed calls for minimum alcohol pricing. In the political dictionary of intention, the prime minister’s private view on whether we should introduce this measure is reported to be just shy of ‘minded to’. He risks conflict with other members of the Cabinet if he goes further than that.

Meanwhile, the Scottish Government is pressing ahead with a minimum unit pricing plan, although it’s been warned it should run it past Europe first, in case it flouts competition law.

Interestingly, the NHS is taking the prospect seriously. The other day it released a briefing paper on how it intends to evaluate minimum pricing in Scotland, crucially important since the Scots will be pretty much pioneering the idea, notwithstanding the Canadian examples, which aren’t especially comparable, and the much-vaunted Sheffield University model, which is only a model.

The NHS paper suggests it is aware of the complexity of minimum pricing’s potential impact, paying attention to different populations and unintended consequences.

It’s the intended consequence, a reduction in alcohol consumption and, with it they hope, alcohol harm, that could prove the tricky one to assess, bearing in mind drink sales are falling pretty steadily, and especially in the off-trade over the past year. How will they be able to to tell the part minimum pricing is playing in that?

Among the unintended consequences is likely to be a boost in profits for the supermarkets which will effectively be able to engage in legalised price-fixing. They might even be inventivised to promote alcohol even more than they’re doing now, since it will become a more profitable product for them.

What worries me more, though, is the impact on addicted drinkers. Defending minimum pricing against the charge that it penalises moderate drinkers, its supporters have argued that heavy drinkers will be hit most. Which makes sense – until you come to the kind of heavy drinkers who aren’t put off doing it when the next drink might kill them, let alone by paying a few extra pence.

Minimum pricing won’t work for these people, the Sheffield academics have admitted. But will it have a negative effect? As unemployment and poverty deepen, we’re already seeing a growth in illicit booze, including industrial alcohol bottled as vodka.

It’s possible the addicted drinker, priced out of the official market, will turn to these cheap but dangerous alternatives. For them, a higher price might amount to prohibition, and all the troubles that come with it.

*You can read my views on this at www.philmellows.com

I’ve been reading stats that indicate more pubs are screening sport. If this is true, and my own observations suggest that it is, we’re seeing the reversal of a trend.

A few years ago many pub companies and brewers were cutting back on their Sky subscriptions, and a lot of the pubs that have been closing have been businesses that relied, over-relied perhaps, on football and rugby to get customers through the doors. It began to look as though live games would become the preserve of a small minority of specialist sports bars.

Sky can take some of the blame for this. I remember a trial stint on the Publican news desk, when I was going for a job there, when I was lucky enough to scoop a leaked story on Sky subs increases that were about to soar above inflation.

That was in the summer of 1997. And a similar story was to break on an annual basis; until last year when Sky froze pub subscriptions.

Another factor is foreign satellite transmissions of dubious legality. The high price of Sky, and some dodgy sales techniques, have driven struggling licensees to take a chance on screening games through channels that are not only considerably cheaper but allow them to show 3pm kick-offs on Saturdays.

I’ve been surprised at how many pubs have taken the risk, and confess to watching a few games myself, or parts of them before getting frustrated at being unable to identify the language the commentary’s in, let alone understand it.

Sky and the Football Association insist that these broadcasts are illegal, and licensees have indeed been convicted. Only last week an Essex pub was fined £19,000. And the prosecutions continue.

The Karen Murphy test case has, however, confused the matter. In October, following her apparent success in the European Court of Justice, the mainstream media was full of stories about pubs being able to show any games they like, a conclusion which was, at best, premature.

Murphy is back in the High Court later this month, and hopefully judges will reach a clear verdict and we’ll know where we stand.

Whatever the result, though, the latest evidence suggests that sport can continue to play a big part in the success of many community pubs, and that it’s worth the investment. I used to think that the growth of food was incompatible with screening football but I was wrong. Good pubs can do both. And they are.

Just over a year ago on these pages I wrote a rash and foolish post agreeing with something the government had done. I should have stuck to my principles.

I was suckered in by a decision to redefine the product so that so-called ciders with less than 35% juice content would not get the duty break proper ciders benefit from. I thought this was a good idea, not because it might directly reduce harm among street drinkers but because producing drinks like this purely as a vehicle for alcohol undermines the respect we should have for a wonderful concoction.

It turns out, though, that the 35% threshold has had barely any impact on the white ciders on the shelves because most of them contained more juice than that anyway.

I was made aware of this by a new report titled White Cider and Street Drinkers* by Alcohol Research UK which questioned drinkers themselves as well as the people who work with them on the park bench frontline.

It identifies white cider as a particular problem, something I haven't been entirely convinced about before because I believe addicted drinkers will simply switch to the next cheapest hit - and the research seems to confirm this, up to a point. Not surprisingly, price comes top of the list of reasons for buying a white cider.

Half the drinkers, though, knew it was harming them and agreed it should be banned or priced out of their reach. Others thought it should be even cheaper or made available on prescription, as methadone is for heroin users, a recognition that addiction is a problem that can't be solved by pricing.

The research goes on to ask, though, whether super strength ciders are more harmful than other alcohol, such as super strength beers, and points to the more severe stomach problems suffered by cider drinkers, presumably something to do with the acidity.

So, as a harm reduction measure, there might be something in making sure white cider is priced in such a way that it isn't the natural choice for street drinkers. Which will probably mean it won't get made at all.

For that to happen, though, the government will have to get the juice threshold right. Why didn't it the first time? Was it badly advised or was it another case of being seen to do something without actually doing anything?

*http://alcoholresearchuk.org/2012/02/01/white-cider-and-street-drinkers/