In recent years, experiential leisure, or competitive socialising, has sparked plenty of buzz and great returns, mostly dominated by large-format venues. UK brands have led this global trend, perhaps fuelled by the downturn in casual dining and decline in physical retail, creating favourable real estate conditions and the parallel growth and dominance in the modern food hall sector.

In urban centres with younger, more social demographics and higher disposable incomes, these venues hit the sweet spot, originally driven by the changed millennial mindset shifting from material goods to experiences, seeking value in time, money and a higher experience factor.

These spots are casual, affordable, social and experience-driven, letting customers control their spending without the risks of a single bill in traditional dining. This is further fuelled by Generation Z and Generation A drinking less, the clubbing era fading and the late-night economy dwindling.

Growing up in seaside resorts, working in arcades as a teen and a stint as a holiday rep, I always laugh that the model is simple: take a 1990s holiday favourite, add affordable or fast-casual dining concepts, dim the lights, mix in some alcohol and voilà – you have a large-format venue ready for urban centres, catering to a new generation of experience seekers and companies eager for fresh corporate hosting options.

However, unlike the pool halls and bowling alleys of the past that thrived on loyal, repeat audiences passionate about those activities, today’s experiential venues attract guests who often don’t really care about the core activity itself – be it bowling, darts or axe throwing. They’re there for the fun, the novelty, the social experience. Once they’ve thrown a few axes or played a few rounds, it’s “been there, done that”, and they move on to the next thing. As a result, single-activity concepts risk “burning through” their audience within a few years, demanding constant reinvention, new layers of experience or a pivot towards more holistic, multi-activity offers.

As these concepts expand beyond London and major cities, multi-activity venues have emerged. They align the traditional role of the small-town bowling alley with the energy of London’s experimental leisure scene, suiting smaller populations that need diverse attractions. These venues cater to families and adult socialising alike, with some multi-site operators making experiences modular and transportable, adding even more dynamism to the offer.

Recently, I’ve been in the US and UAE with industry leaders. There are notable successes, but also significant failures, and some teetering on the brink. In Dubai, on paper, everything seems right for UK brands to enter the market with large-format, singularly focused concepts. But the offer is just not landing and not standing out in a city famed for entertainment and experiences. Successful concepts are pivoting from family to adult groups, focusing on quality dining over fast-casual – essential in a market where you can race cars, explore top theme parks and fire live rounds at a shooting range.

In the US, there is a different view. With such a large and diverse market, there are certainly huge opportunities for scaling the right brands, aided by a time-poor culture, higher willingness to spend on experiences and a more urban-dominated population. British brands venturing here have had strong success. That said, there is still scepticism, particularly from real estate investors, that the fast-moving US market demands quicker and more radical innovation to capture a consumer always chasing the next thing.

We have to remember this is a nation that leads the world in entertainment and experiences – from the world’s biggest theme parks and entertainment brands to the craziness of Las Vegas and a culture of cruising on mega ships packed with activities galore. While British brands have found success in the US, they may need a bolder approach and faster, larger-scale innovation.

In conclusion, I anticipate a continued shift towards venues offering plural experiences. While financially viable, this approach can dilute brand uniqueness, turning it into more of an operational play. Mainstream brands will increasingly incorporate experiential and entertainment elements, with more suppliers providing the necessary technology and solutions.

At the same time, food hall-first operators are beginning to move in the opposite direction – adding gaming, live entertainment and interactive leisure to their mix – further blurring the lines between dining, socialising and play. This crossover will accelerate as both sectors compete for the same audience’s time and spend.

The trend could erode our first-mover advantage as a global leader, as the sector becomes less ownable and more easily replicated. Innovative, well-funded and risk-taking markets are poised to step up, challenging our dominance in this burgeoning industry.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. It certainly was in The Audley public house in London’s Mayfair last week. When wandering in around lunchtime, I was greeted by a row of small chalkboards on various tables stating “reserved @ 2:30pm”. 

 

It is one of the most annoying aspects of pub-going at this time of the year – the sight of a plethora of tables booked ahead of time. It is clearly understandable in restaurants, but it has now become irritatingly widespread in pubs. It’s sadly a feature all year round to some extent, but it reaches its zenith – or nadir I’d say – in December.

 

It is one of the throwbacks to covid-19, when at certain times, table bookings were mandatory within hospitality businesses. But we are now more than five years on from the pandemic, and it seems to be a policy adopted by a growing number of pubs. Within the capital, the trend is running riot, if we go by the trading activities at the big city rivals Fuller’s and Young’s. 

 

Simon Emeny, chief executive of Fuller’s, acknowledged pre-bookings have become a key focus for the company in recent years, and in the six months to 27 September, such sales were up 4.8% to account for 33% of managed pubs and hotels revenue. Meanwhile, Simon Dodd, chief executive of Young’s, recently stated 32% of sales are from pre-bookings, and that this figure rises to 50% during Christmas. Compare this with a mere 18% in 2019 and the difference is marked. 

 

He suggests pre-booking is now as important in pubs as it is in restaurants, having risen from a position of barely existing a few years back. From being fully reliant on walk-in customers, many pubs have now switched to embracing bookings whereby they are becoming pretty much essential aspects of their businesses.  

 

It is not just your smarter, food-led pubs where this pre-booking situation is taking hold, but in regular boozers too. Greene King has recently introduced a new booking system across 1,600 of its managed pubs – notably for securing tables for live sports and for in-pub activities such as pool and darts. It has taken an impressive 35,000 booked sports covers per month, so it is clearly working. 

 

When the leaders of pub companies suggest there is less spontaneity nowadays, I would question this. I reckon this move away from serendipitous behaviour is simply a result of the fact that in order to secure a seat or table in places today, you have to place your imaginary towel on the sun lounger hours before the sun has even come up in the form of an online booking for a table at your local pub. First come, first served is now a thing we can say existed in the good old days. 

 

Even when you go along with the game, there are plenty of niggling obstacles to annoy. Bookings invariably involve fixed time slots. Is this simply because that’s the way the booking engine is configured, or would you actually get thrown off your table at the end of the allotted time? I’d suggest if the place is busy, then you would be asked to leave at that time, but if it is not, then you could no doubt stay longer. This unpredictability is not a scenario that favours the customer.

 

My wife and a group of friends have, over decades, visited the Cork & Bottle wine bar in Central London, and the first to arrive would grab a table for the group. Then, a booking system came in, which they were fine with, but now the slot is limited to two hours. Bear in mind this is a wine bar and not a restaurant, and the grouping has invariably spent well for the duration of their visits. 

 

Needless to say, they have had to change venue this Christmas, and the ultimate choice is not necessarily because it is one of their preferred options, but because it gives them the greatest flexibility. No doubt, if they have a good time, then it will become a regular haunt.

 

With a pre-booked customer in Young’s pubs typically spending £54 versus £33 for a walk-in, it is understandable why pubs are shifting to pushing bookings, but I’d urge them to handle it with great care. Please don’t turn pubs into venues covered in booking cards on tables. Life is becoming increasingly prescriptive, so don’t let that haven of spontaneity that is the pub lose its most unique quality.

Everyone loves pubs. Even Rachel Reeves. But we haven’t always. Things changed between the First and Second World Wars. In 1916, what became known as the Carlisle Experiment nationalised the pubs and brewing industries around the giant Gretna munitions factory, closing almost half of the city’s pubs. Drinking in them, the argument went, was undermining the war effort. 

 

Infamously, David Lloyd George declared at the time: “We are fighting Germany, Austria and drink, and as far as I can see, the greatest of these three deadly foes is drink.” Field marshall Douglas Haig took the hyperbole literally and suggested that soldiers caught drunk in a pub should be shot. Rather harsh when you consider that a young man about to head to a too-likely death in the mud would probably need a beer or two.

 

Carlisle was a more subtle temperance measure. The State Management Scheme, as it’s properly known, under the guidance of architect Harry Redfern not only invested in the remaining pubs but built its own. Rather than boozers for blokes, they created a new model of spacious community hubs that focused on food and entertainment and welcomed the whole population.

 

After the war, Redfern’s work inspired brewers to build their own “improved pubs”, and while many “unimproved” pubs remained, the experience significantly shifted attitudes.

 

At any rate, once you get into the 1940s, pubs are not seen as the enemy at all but a vital source of morale on the home front. By the end of the war, this new image of the pub becomes crystallised – notably, in George Orwell’s essay on the imaginary Moon Under Water, and elsewhere.

 

Interestingly, crisis is already built into this new conception of the pub as something of social value that was already slipping through our fingers. Orwell’s ideal was, after all, imaginary. Yet the idea that pubs are, perhaps in spite of the alcohol, on balance, a good thing, is now the orthodoxy – including among the public health community.

 

An example of this appeared on the blogosphere last week under the sensational headline “Britain bleeds cheap booze”, splashed over a fuzzy reproduction of Hogarth’s apocalyptic Gin Lane. The 18th century engraving is one of a pair, its partner being the idyllic Beer Street. You hardly ever encounter them together, which means the artist’s message – gin is bad, but beer is good – is lost.

 

Curiously, though, the idea that some drinking is better than other drinking survives in the post. Despite the heading, it’s an interesting and thoughtful conversation between journalist David Hillier and statistician Colin Angus, a professor at Sheffield Alcohol Research Group who’s a fizz at graphs.

 

Hillier’s initial assertion that “alcohol deaths have been climbing since the pandemic” is rather undermined by Angus pointing out that, in the past year, “alcohol-specific deaths in England and Wales have actually reduced by 7.8%”. Nevertheless, the figure remains higher than pre-pandemic levels and, elsewhere, Angus has expressed concern that consumption is not coming down fast enough among vulnerable groups.

 

It's complicated. But never is there any question that the culprit is the “cheap booze” sold through supermarkets. Nor that pub drinking – in moderation, of course – is fine, and that more needs to be done to protect this fine institution. More controversially, for readers of these columns, Angus believes duty freezes are “bad for pubs”. 

 

“It’s presented as something to help pubs. But it doesn’t help pubs,” he says. “Tax is a much bigger percentage of the price of alcohol sold in shops than in pubs. So, when you duty cut or duty freeze – which is effectively a price cut – it’s a much bigger chunk of a £1 shop-bought can than it is a £6 pint.”

 

Yet an increase is still an increase, and it’s doubtful that pub operators cheered when the latest Budget lifted duty by the rate of inflation. Nor will it have encouraged drinkers to decide against a can in front of the telly and go down the pub instead. People will see it as another added cost that means they might be able to go out even less.

 

Not that I think cutting duty will save pubs either, since Angus is correct that it benefits the off-trade more. If our love of pubs is more than lip-service, we need a proper holistic plan, led by government, which reflects their social value and makes sure every community has a place to go for a pint and a chat.

 

Though it was driven by temperance, the Carlisle Experiment recognised that need. State management wasn’t perfect, but it gives a clue to the way forward. The pub trade, to paraphrase a term used by public health, is no ordinary industry. It can’t be left to the whims and winds of the market.