Ten years ago I went to my GP, complaining of headaches. His suggestion? A glass of wine at night, to relieve tension. Were a doctor today even to hint at such a thing it would probably be cause for disciplinary action, yet at the time it was well-meant, a recognition of the relaxing properties of pinot blanc or chianti, when taken in moderation. How far attitudes have altered in a decade. Faced with a similar ailment today, a doctor is more likely to advocate joining a military exercise class than encourage a sip of fermented grape to slip past the tonsils.

Since the announcement of the latest guidelines on how many units we can consume without seriously damaging our health, many of us have been making an unscientific calculation about the point at which the harm of drink outweighs its benefits. On Friday evening I passed a friend on his way to our local. “Just off to have my week’s allowance,” he said cheerily, heading for the gantry, where the first of several pints was probably already awaiting him. And who can blame him? Our pub is a sociable middle-aged haven, where beer connoisseurs hug the bar so closely they could be attached by Velcro, and the rare mixing of a cocktail is watched with horror, such a concoction being an offence to the eye as well as the palate in an establishment that prides itself on sepia-coloured decor and beverages. I suspect some of the regulars take more than is wise, but in all the years I’ve been going, there’s never been any sign of unacceptable drunkenness, nor a moment’s trouble.

The new guidelines have caused muttering about killjoys and the nanny state, but who wouldn’t want to be better informed? Nor is there any doubt that we need to tackle this country’s diabolical relationship with drink. It was reported that after midnight on New Year’s Eve, the Scottish ambulance service was taking 225 calls an hour about alcohol-related illness or accident, while the number of A&E cases that involve intoxication, whatever the month, points to a woefully destructive attitude to the bottle. It’s as if some of us go out of our way to become ill, paralytic, or violent. Nor, as the bourgeoisie would like to think, is this a problem solely of the young or the ill-educated. A friend who was giving a dinner party and had taken one glass too many lifted his casserole out of the Aga, without oven gloves. He’ll not be at his keyboard for a while yet.

Useful though they are, such guidelines are the equivalent of thawing an iceberg with a candle. Only those receptive to advice will pay attention, while the majority will ignore them. The only way to make a difference quickly, and help those oblivious to reason or stark facts, is to make alcohol more expensive. Holyrood is to be praised for trying to bring in minimum pricing, but the disturbing levels of resistance this proposal faces suggests that economic interests carry undue weight with legislators. At the moment, following a challenge to the government’s plans by the Scottish Whisky Association, the European Court of Justice is deciding whether such a step compromises free trade. Luxembourg's legislators have suggested that this tactic would only be acceptable if no other means of protecting the public’s health were available.

As the court deliberates, both sides await its decision. Meanwhile, health and social services, police, education departments and the courts – not to mention ordinary individuals – continue to pick up the broken pieces of a population that simply cannot handle booze. How can it be right that a direct, simple way of reducing intake, regardless of the individual’s ability or willingness to calibrate risk, is deemed potentially illegal? You’d think a violation of human rights is lurking in the midst of this confusion, because reducing harm, and saving lives, is surely the priority.

Obviously the long-term ideal is to bring about a permanent change in the culture, whereby we are enlightened about the consequences of beer, wine or spirits and begin to quaff more responsibly, rendering price less important. Such a shift in habits, however, cannot happen overnight, but will take a couple of generations at least. While we wait for this, members of the hospitality industry would do well to embrace rather than resist minimum pricing. Some already do so, of course, showing a far-sighted appreciation of the issue. No doubt they also foresee a time when more sophisticated drinking patterns will be to their advantage. But those who at the moment challenge tougher retail measures might one day regret it. For it is abundantly clear that if we do not get a grip on a problem that is close to a public health crisis, even more draconian measures might be around the corner.