The killers of the deep that deserve our unstinting respect

“Not to know beer is not normal”

In a world that makes less and less sense as I get older, says Henry Jeffreys in The New Statesman, “there are still occasional moments of crystalline sanity”. One example came last week, when I learned that Manchester’s only alcohol-free bar, Love From, was shutting down after eight months. When this place opened, I thought the world had gone mad. Yes, I know, young folk are drinking less than they used to and the market for booze-free drinks is going gangbusters. But “a bar without beer”? Seriously? Thankfully, the people of Manchester seem to have taken the same view.

“Mankind has been enjoying alcohol since before the dawn of history.” Some scientists think our ancestors ventured down from the trees “specifically to gorge on fermenting fruit”; early humans turned to agriculture in part to provide grain for beer. Getting drunk was “vital to the functioning of society”: our brains are naturally wired for working in small hunter-gatherer groups, so without the lubricant of alcohol we would have struggled to make friends, work together and build civilisations. That’s why booze has played a part in every great culture, “from the ritualised drunkenness of the ancient Egyptians to Kingsley Amis, the laureate of the hangover”. Sure, the current trend towards sobriety may change the way we drink – industrialisation had a similar effect in the 19th century, when drinking moved from being “more or less constant to an activity confined to leisure time”. But man’s “ingrained need for alcohol will continue”. As the Sumerian proverb goes: “Not to know beer is not normal.”

Nettles are the “perfect summer greens”, says Elisabeth Luard in The Oldie. We are virtually their only predators – hence the protective sting – meaning there are always plenty to be found. You ideally want leaves from young nettles, or at least the leaves from the top of fully-grown plants, about 500g or so per person. Pack them in a lidded pot with a little salt and water, then drain as soon as the leaves collapse. Once it’s cooked, chop and dress as you would spinach – the texture and flavour are much the same – with lashings of butter and a splash of olive oil. Use it for soup (with bacon hock and barley is a classic), or folded into a creamy white sauce, or as a dressing for pasta.

Ignore Apple, not all screen time is bad

One weekend last month, says Caroline Mimbs Nyce in The Atlantic, I had “a perfect day”. After driving up the California coastline, I surfed for a couple of hours with friends and went kayaking with another buddy, then drove home, walked the dog and ate pizza on the sofa. But my feeling of contentment was spoiled when my iPhone told me I’d logged more screen time than usual: a whopping six hours. None of it was time-wasting: almost three hours on Google Maps, 45 minutes shopping for a dress I needed for a wedding, and so on. Nevertheless, on seeing the final total I “couldn’t help but feel a reflexive jolt of guilt”. Which sucks.

Apple claims Screen Time is a way for people to “take control”, amid growing fears that excessive phone use is driving anxiety and other mental health problems. The problem is that not all phone use is the same. Yes, you might be wasting hours on cat videos or filling yourself with self-loathing by endlessly scrolling Instagram. But you might also be messaging your friends or reading a brilliant daily newsletter. Even how you use a specific app can vary wildly: scrolling through your photos is fun if you’re looking at holiday snaps, but “maybe not so great” if you’re obsessing over pictures of your ex. With Screen Time, all nuance is lost. As I discovered, even a perfect day can still involve a lot of phone use. “And that’s okay.”