Field Notes

What "Sober Curious" Actually Means (And Why We Don't Use It)

Differ* 3 min read

The term turns up in every article about drinking written since about 2019, usually in quotation marks, usually followed by a statistic about Gen Z.

It's a useful phrase. It describes something real. We don't use it, and it's worth explaining why — partly because the reason is interesting, and partly because if you've been called sober curious and it didn't sit right, you should know you're not imagining that.

Where the phrase came from

"Sober curious" was coined by the British writer Ruby Warrington, who used it for a series of events she was hosting and then for her 2018 book of the same name.

Her starting point was specific and honest: she wasn't an alcoholic, but she noticed she was using alcohol to socialise more comfortably and to avoid sitting with how she felt. The word "curious" was doing real work — it described examining a habit rather than quitting one, and it created room for people who had no clinical problem but did have a question.

That was a genuine gap in the language. Before it, you were a drinker or you were in recovery, and there was nothing in between.

What it accidentally did

Then it became a trend category, and the trend category did two things the original idea didn't intend.

It made not-drinking into an identity. "I'm sober curious" is a label you now wear, explain, and defend. Which means the thing that was supposed to make a drink less of a topic has made it a bigger one. You've gone from declining a beer to describing a worldview.

It attached the decision to self-improvement. Look at how the phrase travels. It arrives packaged with sleep quality, focus, clarity, and a photograph of someone in linen on a Sunday morning. Not drinking became a thing you do in order to become a better version of yourself.

Which is fine, if that's why you're doing it. But it quietly rewrites the premise. It says the reason to not have a drink is that there's a return on it — and that's the same logic as the drink itself, just pointed somewhere else.

The problem with curious

Here's the smaller, more annoying thing.

"Curious" implies a phase. It implies you're trying something out and there'll be a verdict later. It hands the person asking about your drink an invitation to check in on your progress.

Most people who aren't drinking on a given night aren't curious about anything. They're just not drinking. On Tuesday. For no particular reason. That's not an experiment, it's a Tuesday.

What the numbers actually say

The behaviour is real, whatever it's called. The IWSR, which tracks the drinks trade, reported that across ten major markets, no- and low-alcohol volumes grew 13% in 2024, with no-alcohol forecast to grow at around 7% volume CAGR through 2028.

Worth noting what that isn't: it isn't a story about people quitting. The consistent finding across this research is that most of the growth comes from people who also drink alcohol — switching within an evening, or across a week, rather than choosing a side.

Which is the least dramatic and most accurate version of what's happening. Nobody's converting. People just want more than one option.

So what do you call it?

Nothing, ideally.

The strongest position is the one that doesn't need a name, because naming it is what turns it into a conversation. You don't have a word for the nights you decide to have a coffee instead of a tea.

If you need something to say out loud, "not tonight" has never failed anyone.

And if sober curious genuinely fits — if you are examining something and the word helps — use it. Warrington's original point was a good one and it helped a lot of people. We're objecting to what the marketing industry did with it, not to her.

Which is also the answer to the obvious question about us. Differ* isn't for sober people, or curious people, or people on a programme. It's for the fairly large group who'd like a third option on the shelf and would rather not join a movement to get one.

Nothing here is a habit.

Sources

Differ*