Every January, like clockwork, Dry January comes roaring back.
If you want to take a month off drinking, good for you. Truly. Your body, your goals, your choice. No judgment, and it shouldn’t be anyone else’s business either.
But we also need to stop pretending Dry January is harmless.
For a whole lot of craft breweries, Dry January isn’t a “challenge.” It’s a revenue problem. A jobs problem. A “can we make payroll in February” problem.
Let’s start here: nobody owes a brewery a dime. No one is entitled to your bar tab. And if alcohol has ever been a problem for you personally, do what you need to do—period.
But Dry January has become more than a personal choice. It’s a cultural movement. And cultural movements have economic consequences.
The reality is that January is already brutal for hospitality. Post-holiday budgets are tight. Weather keeps people home. Events disappear. Then Dry January comes along and supercharges the slump—not just with fewer drinks ordered, but fewer outings, fewer meals, fewer tips, fewer shifts.
It hits the neighborhood brewery sponsoring your kid’s team. The bartender paying rent. The server whose income depends on weekend crowds. The distributor reps, designers, canners, and small vendors that keep the entire ecosystem running.
And this on top of the fact that craft brewers have already been hit hard from every direction: higher ingredient and supply costs, staffing and wage pressure, distribution headaches, fierce competition from THC and other alternatives, and shifting post-pandemic consumer habits. Many are already operating on thin margins. January isn’t when they make money—it’s when they try not to lose too much. Because of Dry January, some simply won’t survive until spring patio season.
Want to drink less? Great. Skip weekdays. Have one instead of three. Order food, even if you skip booze. Buy to-go beer for later. Choose NA options (many breweries now offer them). You can make a health decision without turning January into a month-long boycott of local hospitality.
Dry January isn’t immoral. But it is bad for business—and pretending otherwise ignores the people and places we claim to support the other 11 months of the year.
