Reykjavík Grapevine - 08.11.2013, Síða 17
“There’s no stigma
of going to rehab
and recovering.
Ministers have been
elected after going
to rehab and talking
about it openly in
their campaigns.”
1. Víking Gylltur (Iceland) 500 ml 1.687.994
2. Víking Lager (Iceland) 500 ml 849.699
3. Víking Lite (Iceland) 500 ml 652.080
4. Thule (Iceland) 500 ml 615.376
5. Tuborg Gold (Iceland) ml 500 568.840
6. Egils Gull (Iceland) 500 ml 552.740
7. Tuborg Green (Iceland) 500 ml 504.965
8. Hollandia (Holland) 500 ml 453.579
9. Faxe Premium (Denmark) 500 ml 424.557
10.Víking Gylltur (Iceland) 330 ml 368.893
Source: Vínbúð
Icelanders don’t drink more than any
other nation. The United States, the
UK and even Iceland’s Nordic neigh-
bours, Greenland, Denmark and
Finland, all drink more per person
over the age of 15, according to data
provided by The State Wine, Spirit
and Tobacco Authority.
When it comes to drinking, Ice-
land has what is classified as a dry
culture as opposed to a wet culture.
“In dry cultures,” according to a pa-
per published by the National Insti-
tute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcohol-
ism (NIAAA), “alcohol consumption
is not as common during everyday
activities (e.g., it is less frequently a
part of meals) and access to alcohol is
more restricted. Abstinence is more
common, but when drinking occurs
it is more likely to result in intoxica-
tion; moreover, wine consumption is
less common.”
The Icelandic State has a monop-
oly on the sale of alcohol and sells
it at 48 stores called Vínbúð. Vín-
búðs around the country sold a total
18,537 litres of alcohol in 2012 with
the average patron buying 4.38 litres
of alcohol. Of the total alcohol sold,
76.7% was in the form of lager beer,
which was notably banned in Iceland
until 1989, more than 50 years after
prohibition was dropped on all other
alcohol.
As the accompanying graph
shows, consumption increased dra-
matically that year and social drink-
ing, which was once frowned upon,
has become more accepted over the
years. That’s not to say that it has
replaced Iceland’s traditional binge
drinking culture, which is alive and
well on weekend nights in down-
town Reykjavík.
Source: Statice.is
Top 10 Most Popular
Beers Sold At Vínbúð
Stores In 2012
Alcohol Consumption
In Iceland
17
19
80
19
81
19
82
19
83
19
84
19
85
19
86
19
87
19
88
19
89
19
90
19
91
19
92
19
93
19
94
19
95
19
96
19
97
19
98
19
99
20
00
20
01
20
02
20
03
20
04
20
05
20
06
20
07
120
100
80
60
40
20
0
Total
Beer
Wine
Spirits
(“Vogur Hospital”), which underlines
the fact that the patients are ill. This
is also the logic behind requiring all
patients to wear pyjamas and robes for
the duration of their stay.
A big part of his job for the last 30
years has been to remove the stigma
of alcoholism, which he says is impor-
tant to treatment. “I’ve noticed that it’s
easier to treat locals than it is to treat
people who come from other cultures,
or Icelanders who have lived abroad for
some time,” he says, explaining that
the way society views alcoholism plays
a role in recovery.
“We’ve always tried to put a face on
the illness. We’ve gotten highly regard-
ed people, who are celebrities—in the
sense that they have recovered and now
have a beautiful life—to come forth
and talk about their story. That’s how
we’ve worked on prejudices against the
illness,” he says.
“There’s no stigma of going to rehab
and recovering. Ministers have been
elected after going to rehab and talking
about it openly in their campaigns,” he
says. “If you go to rehab and aren’t suc-
cessful, that’s when there’s a problem.”
He laughs at the idea that people
might be over-enthusiastically seek-
ing rehab. “That rarely happens. Pa-
tients are very bright. Pregnant women
know that they are supposed to go to
the maternity ward. People who injure
their head know where to go. People
with this problem know where they are
supposed to go,” he says. “People who
come here who don’t have this problem
usually have another, more serious
problem. I’d be more concerned about
them than the alcoholics who come for
the right reasons.”
The Addict’s Market
Gunnar Smári, who is also a recovered
alcoholic and the former editor and
founder of Iceland’s main daily news-
paper Fréttablaðið, is equally quick
to dismiss the suggestion that SÁÁ,
which employs 100 people, is overzeal-
ous in any way.
“You have to look at this as a com-
pletely divided world. On one side, you
have people who experience alcohol as
something that lifts spirits during mo-
ments of celebration. On the other side,
you have people who experience alcohol
as the most damning part of their life,”
he says. “We want to be recognised as
a minority with special needs that are
addressed just as the blind get braille
and those in wheelchairs get ramps.”
To that end, SÁÁ started a petition
called “Betra líf” (“Better Life”) on the
organisation’s 35th birthday last Octo-
ber, asking the State to contribute 10%
of alcohol taxes—which amount to
roughly 11 million ISK per year (near-
ly 1 million USD)—to their cause. If
the proposal—which was delivered to
the Minister of Finance in June with
31,000 signatures—goes through, pa-
tients would receive an additional 1.1
billion ISK from the State, which cur-
rently finances two thirds of SÁÁ’s an-
nual budget of 1.2 billion ISK.
To Gunnar Smári, this is completely
logical. “American research suggests
that 20% of the population drinks 88%
of the alcohol,” he says, extrapolating
the data to the Icelandic population.
“Of the 20%, 15% are alcoholics who
cannot learn to drink and must quit
and 5% are heavy drinkers who go out
in Reykjavík and drink in a manner
that is so crass that it’s hard to differ-
entiate it from the drinking done by
alcoholics.”
Given that patients then pay 80%
of the alcohol tax while social drinkers
pay for 20%, Gunnar Smári reasons
that the alcohol tax is a patient tax. “If
you think about it, the average alcoholic
who comes to Vogur has already paid
for the equivalent of something like
seven treatments,” he says.
Treatment at Vogur, which is cov-
ered by insurance, costs 22,300 ISK
[180 USD] per day. “It’s laughable,”
Gunnar Smári says. “You can’t find a
hotel for that money.” However, more
than half of Vogur’s patients then go on
to do an additional 28-days of inpatient
treatment centred on the principles of
AA, and they pay 60,000 ISK of the total
cost, 400,000 ISK [roughly 3,300 USD]
including the stay at Vogur.
Crusading Onwards
Back at Vogur, Þórarinn tells me the
‘Better Life’ campaign hasn’t been suc-
cessful in the sense that a government
bill doesn’t look like it’s on its way, but
he doesn’t seem concerned. “Some-
times you don’t achieve your goals and
you have to start again, but some good
things still came out of it,” he says. If
nothing else, it certainly raised aware-
ness given the large number of people
who publicly endorsed SÁÁ as they col-
lected signatures.
Outside, the sound of construction
on Vogur's expansion interrupts the
otherwise peaceful surroundings. “A
man came the other day and donated
50 million ISK to this expansion proj-
ect, which costs 200 million with all of
the equipment,” Þórarinn says. “We’re
like the Metropolitan Opera. We’ve re-
ceived big gifts like this.”
In the thirty years since Binni f lew
to Los Angeles to get the ‘Dallas’ stars
to help them raise money to build
Vogur, it looks like SÁÁ has not lost
its knack for fundraising. Last year, it
raised 252 million ISK, which is nearly
as much as the Icelandic Cancer Soci-
ety’s 292 million ISK.
Their annual “Álfasala” (“Elf Sale”)
has been one of their most important
fundraising campaigns since it started
in 1990. The white cotton balls with
googly eyes that they purchase from
China have brought in 430 million
ISK over the years. “We don’t have to
promote it much,” he says. “Everyone
knows it. Now people are trying to steal
the idea. Other organisations have oth-
er little guys, like the rescue team guy,
but we are best known for this.”
And if the media once looked at
SÁÁ’s campaigns with suspicion, the
unremitting media coverage that they
get today suggests that attitudes have
changed. The Monday after I met
Þórarinn, he appeared on the first
show in a weekly series that SÁÁ is
airing on ÍNN until Christmas, as
part of their “Áfram Vogur” (“Let’s Go,
Vogur!”) campaign to fund the expan-
sion of their facilities.
On that show, he continued to drive
home the point that all kinds of people
come to Vogur for treatment, noting
that they recently had three doctors in
rehab at the same time. “I’m just wait-
ing for someone from the teenage ward
of SÁÁ to become a prime minister,”
he says, grinning at the thought. And
perhaps when that day comes, SÁÁ will
have achieved its ultimate goal of com-
pletely de-stigmatising alcoholism and
its treatment.
Þórarinn Tyrfingsson,
head doctor at Vogur,
photographed by Nanna Dís