A recent Daily Telegraph cartoon shows a couple arriving at a dinner party. One of them hands the host a small box with the explanation, "We didn't bring a bottle; we got you these tablets for mild alcoholism instead".
This refers to a new programme - perhaps it should be called an experiment - initiated by the UK's health watchdog, the National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (which goes by the acronym Nice), to enable what it terms "mild alcoholics" to reduce their consumption.
This is how it will work: GPs will be instructed to quiz patients about their alcohol intake, regardless of the reason for their visit or whether or not they display overt symptoms of overdoing it. Those who admit to "mild alcoholism" - men who drink three pints of beer and women who drink two large glasses of wine a night - will be told to cut down.
If they can't or won't cut down within two weeks, they will be prescribed the drug nalmefene which supposedly works on the reward part of the brain to reduce the urge to have more than one drink.
This exercise will cost the British taxpayer $560 million a year. And with the iron certainty the health bureaucracy evinces when telling us what's good for us, Nice declares it will save 1854 lives and prevent 43,074 alcohol-related diseases and injuries over five years.
It raises a number of issues, starting with the patient's relationship with his or her GP. If you consult your GP about a matter that affects your wellbeing and causes you concern, are you volunteering to be interrogated about your drinking habits at the behest of a faceless agency embedded in the public health bureaucracy? Does the GP have any choice in the matter?
And if the patient is a socially well-adjusted, law-abiding citizen who, through a process of trial and error, has settled on a routine and lifestyle that enable them to be a functioning and productive member of society, what is the medical and ethical basis for this intervention?
Then there's the not-so-small matter of what's being done to the English language here. Since when can you be a mild alcoholic? Isn't that a contradiction in terms like part-time fanatic, one-off serial killer or occasional junkie?
As most people understand the term, you're either an alcoholic or you're not, and if you can regulate your self-indulgence to the extent it qualifies as mild, you're not. You are what used to be known as a "moderate drinker".
One of the side-effects of the attitudinal shift known as political correctness is a tendency to concoct euphemisms to avoid undermining people's self-esteem. Thus problems are challenges, the blind are visually impaired and rubbish collectors are waste management and disposal technicians.
This tendency has been satirised by the likes of the late comedian George Carlin: "I use the word 'fat'. I use that word because that's what people are. They're not bulky, they're not large, chunky, hefty or plump. And they're not big-boned. Dinosaurs were big-boned. These people aren't overweight. This term somehow implies there's some correct weight. There is no correct weight. 'Heavy' is also a misleading term. An aircraft carrier is heavy; it's not fat. Only people are fat."
I guess the medical profession deserves some grudging credit for bucking this trend, although calling moderate drinkers mild alcoholics seems to be an over-correction.
That said, we should acknowledge that the stereotype of the alcoholic - the hollow-eyed compulsive imbiber whose prime concern is where his next drink is coming from; the poor wretch swigging sherry from a flagon under Grafton Bridge - probably needs fine-tuning. And we need to recognise that it's possible to be a functioning member of society while overdoing the recreational drugs but there may be consequences down the track.
For its part, the medical profession might care to ponder whether baby boomers are a special case who should be treated accordingly.
Baby boomers tend to exercise regularly and eat healthily. Far from ignoring health issues, they consult Dr Google at the first hint that all is not exactly as it should be. If you take away their boutique beer and pinot noir, many of them will hang around long enough to get a message from Buckingham Palace congratulating them on cracking the ton.
Maybe alcohol is nature's way of ensuring baby boomers don't overstay their welcome.