Hear Me Out is a new weekly series where Journal Media staffers give their hottest, coldest and, where appropriate, temperature-bending takes on what we’re all discussing at the water cooler this week. 

If you’ve got a spat that needs settling, or you need the input of The Journal’s extended family of agony aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. then be sure to email tips@thejournal.ie with the subject line Hear Me Out, and give us a take that you think the world needs to hear.

MARK ZUCKERBERG DOESN’T always get it right.

First of all, there was all of that stuff he did in The Social Network. Screwing over Andrew Garfield, starting a website to compare the attractiveness of unassuming female college students, potentially stealing the idea from those large blond twins, that kind of thing.

Since then, he’s made so many other dodgy calls that Aaron Sorkin was compelled to write a sequel. There was the Cambridge Analytica data breach in 2016, the failure to remove genocidal rhetoric against the Rohingya population of Myanmar, getting teenagers hooked on the infinite scroll, and of course the ongoing use of Meta platforms to spread disinformation. 

Zuckerberg’s latest offence, however, appears to be an inability to swig a Guinness without looking completely and utterly repulsed.

The Facebook founder and Meta CEO was appearing on The Cheeky Pint podcast with Stripe co-founder and billionaire John Collison last week, because apparently that’s the kind of thing billionaires do nowadays (everybody wants to work in media, deep down). A clip from the podcast has since gone viral, appearing to show Zuckerberg raising his pint to his mouth, struggle to swallow his stout, before twisting his neck around a bit in what can only be described as obviously suppressed nausea.

Zuckerberg has responded to the online commentary by saying “That’s just my face”, but after that clip a few years ago where he tried to talk to Theo Von about coffee (“Sometimes on vacation I’ll drink it recreationally”, you know like the way normal people talk about coffee), it seems hard to imagine that this is a man who could stomach a pint of plain. 

Obviously, Collison’s decision to predicate his podcast on the popularity of pints is a deliberate choice, and one that speaks to Guinness’ current cachet within the zeitgeist (loanword-city over here today, baby!). However, his decision to give a pint to Mark Zuckerberg, one of the world’s least relatable human beings, may be a sign that Guinness is beginning to jump the shark. There’s only so mainstream something can become before it crashes back down to earth. 

In this week’s edition of Hear Me Out, The Journal staff give their take on the modern Guinness phenomenon. 

Conor:

The continued popularity of Guinness baffles me. It is unquestionably the worst stout I’ve ever had. There is a void in the flavour that is uncomfortable to perceive. Each sip tastes like leaving the house and realising you’re now at the bus stop with no recollection of the walk there.

Carl: 

I’m intervening here to point out that Conor’s comment won him no fewer than 10 crying laughing emoji reactions in our work Slack.

Laura:

‘Splitting the G’? Never heard of it! Where did it come from? Was it cooked up in a Diageo lab, and if so, please tell me some Diageo marketing/social media intern came up with it, and at least tell me they got a big bonus. It’s getting to annoying levels now with this artist, that celeb trying to ‘Split the G’. It just doesn’t feel authentic. Overall though, Guinness is a nice Irish brand, of course it is, but it’s also a global behemoth and I feel as a brand, it gets an inordinate amount of attention…. And our tourism boards are only too happy/lazy to lean into it.

I think they could also be in danger of overcooking the brand a bit. But then again, when you have the Diageo budgets, you just keep pushing for more. So a ‘down with this sort of thing’ from me. But also, a good pint of Guinness by a fire in a little pub is hard to beat. Just the one, mind.

Sinéad:

I am split (heh!) on this one. In a lot of ways, it’s nice to see something so quintessentially Irish be this popular. I also think a lot of the merch is really nice. However, what I’d describe as the ‘London Guinness scene’ feels alien to me – maybe that’s the point. It’s for the diaspora. 

I got married in the Guinness Storehouse almost seven years ago and all my photos look very of the moment now so maybe I should be happy I’m ahead of a trend for once.  

Christine:

I particularly hate how we make famous people drink Guinness when they visit (Barack Obama sipping tentatively is seared in my memory). It is an acquired taste and we not to stop pretending that it isn’t! It is not for everyone!

Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo

Nicky:

I have a lot of thoughts on this but am reluctant to invest too much emotional energy in discussing Guinness. We, collectively, as a nation, already spend too much time doing this.

All I will say is that getting a good Guinness is an eternally frustrating lottery, presumably because more and more places are failing to store it and maintain pipes correctly.

And listen, I’m not after the perfect pint. I’d just like it to be, at least, reliably fine. When I’m spending more than €7, and now not infrequently approaching €8, I shouldn’t have to think twice about how it tastes. It should simply be as expected.

Beamish is, in my experience, far more reliable and cheaper. It doesn’t take much to figure out why it’s experiencing such a surge in popularity.

Full disclosure: inside me are two wolves: my grandfather worked on the Guinness boats between Ireland and Britain, so I do feel a certain loyalty to the brand. But I’m also co-admin of a WhatsApp group called Crème de la Bèm, which was mostly born out of that frustration with Guinness but is more concerned with mapping locations where Beamish is sold than with any pointed critical analysis of “domeage” and all that crap.

Another wolf might be my frustration with our obsession with alcohol brands and the control and influence they have on Irish society, but we’ll save that for another day, shall we?

Andrew Walsh

Prefacing this by saying I love Guinness and hate olives, but it’s the olives of drinks: some people love it, some think it tastes dreadful, and there’s very little room in the middle for nuance. Unlike olive eaters though, Guinness drinkers seem to think the haters need to be taken on a tour of six pubs until they give the correct answer. “You just haven’t had a good one.” Maybe they have! Maybe they’d like another beer instead! It’s a lovely pint, but we’ve got to calm down a bit.

Also, to follow on from Christine, I’m not sure why we’re all supposed to be delighted at the sight of a famous person or world leader drinking Guinness. We don’t seem to need the same approval when they’re knocking back Jameson or Baileys.

As someone from Leixlip, I’m probably contractually obliged to defend Guinness though. They did put us on the map.

Rónán:

First U2 and now Guinness on these pages, no coincidence given the Irish desire to distance ourselves from some of our most successful exports. The Guinness trend has surely peaked now and there’s perhaps a creamy irony in the tech bros whose algorithms powered it delivering the death knell with their own quaffing.

I must admit I hated the idea in years gone by that young people always wanted an ice-cold lager, as ice-cold lagers simply can’t be consumed quickly enough. So I did feel vindicated in my own tastes by the Guinness train of recent times. But as it now comes to a crashing halt, I think we can just retreat to it being largely our own multinational conglomerate-laced favourite. Oh, and while we’re at it, Arthur’s Day was a bit cringey but was also a boon for the night-time scene that pubs would cry out for now.

Nicky:

Yes! Bring back Arthur’s Day. A strange day, a cringey day, one that you don’t really miss, but let’s give it another go.

What do you think? Where do you land on the popularity of Guinness in the modern age? And crucially, do you think we should bring back Arthur’s Day?

Should we bring back Arthur’s Day?

If you’ve been debating a topic with your friends, family and coworkers and you want the matter settled by the Journal Media Galaxy Brain Trust Council of Wisdom™, then email tips@thejournal.ie with the subject line Hear Me Out.