By the time you read this, conference season will be winding down. Lanyards stuffed in drawers, trophies placed triumphantly on mantelpieces, supplier freebies handed out to the kids as penance for their parent’s absence.

If you scroll back through the photos from the last few months, there’s a pattern that’s hard to miss.

Morning selfies on the 07:42 to Euston: cans already cracked open. LinkedIn stories from the exhibition floor: “It’s only networking if there’s Prosecco, right?” After-party shots of people clutching bottles of beer like the award they didn’t quite win.

And you do start to wonder: when many of us head to conferences and industry awards, what’s the real main event?

Is it the learning? The networking? The recognition of hard work? Or is it… getting absolutely hammered?

“Go on, just have one…”

Full disclosure: I’m not writing this from atop a temperance wagon. I’ve never been a big drinker, but I’ve absolutely had my moments of weak willpower and next-day regret. I’ve felt the social pressure, the eye-rolling and the faux outrage when I’ve said, “Just a Diet Coke for me.” I’ve declined a drink and had one handed to me anyway on numerous occasions.

And I’m ashamed to say there have been nights where I’ve drunk far more than I intended to, because saying “no” felt more awkward in the moment than saying “go on then”.

In fact, I recently got so fed up with having to explain myself that I concluded it would be easier just to give up drinking entirely, and industry events have become much more enjoyable.

But making that change has also made me notice just how soaked our industry culture is in alcohol.

So, just in case I was being needlessly pious, I went looking for the data.

The ABV of Estate Agency

There isn’t a neat, peer-reviewed study titled “Exactly How Much Estate Agents Drink At Conferences And Awards Dinners”, however a large UK Biobank study found that among women, the group labelled “estate agents and auctioneers” had more than double the prevalence of heavy drinking compared with the baseline.

Then there was the recent media investigation into one of the largest national agencies, which described a “culture of heavy drinking where drunk-driving was commonplace”. The firm subsequently removed alcohol from meetings, a fairly strong hint that things had got out of hand.

Zoom out to the wider world of work, and the pattern is more pronounced. 64% of UK workers say they drink alcohol for work-related reasons. Around one in three workers has called in sick after drinking at or after a work event; among 18–24-year-olds, it’s closer to 43%.

Between 22% and 32% of employees admit to turning up to work hungover after a work event. 24% of staff say they feel pressured to drink at work events, rising to 38% for younger workers. Around 84% of workplace social events involve alcohol, and roughly 20% of employees say they end up drinking more than they meant to because of peer pressure.

Surprisingly, despite the “work hard, play hard” myth, many people actually don’t want this.

Recent research suggests that only about one in four UK employees actually prefers alcohol at workplace social events. In other words, three-quarters of workers would rather their socials weren’t built around booze.

So we’ve built a professional culture where drinking is expected, over-drinking is normalised, many of us don’t really want it… but feel we have to go along with it anyway.

If you’re thinking “That sounds an awful lot like the average industry do,” you’re not alone.

“He’s had a few” is not a personality type

There’s another, more uncomfortable reason we need to talk about this.

It isn’t just about hangovers, dodgy dance moves or the CFO doing karaoke… it’s about behaviour.

A couple of years ago, at a property conference, I found myself in a situation I still think about.

It was about 8.30pm. Not exactly the witching hour.

A very drunk man was getting far too familiar with a young woman he’d bumped into at the bar: hands where they shouldn’t be, face far too close, completely ignoring her body language and verbal cues. She looked frightened and trapped.

I, somewhat clumsily but instinctively, put myself between them and steered him away. When I handed him back to his colleagues, they laughed and said, “He’s had a few.”

Versions of that scene play out all too frequently in professional life, and not just in property. In law and finance, heavy drinking has long been recognised as a problem; one estimate suggests 15–24% of lawyers will suffer from alcoholism during their careers, with alcohol-fuelled client hospitality a routine part of the job.

When you mix free bars, power imbalances, and a culture that shrugs and says “He’s had a few”… you get an environment where harassment and assault are more likely, and more likely to be brushed aside.

If your drinking negatively affects the people around you, you shouldn’t be touching the stuff at all. That’s not puritanical, it’s basic professionalism.

So… does estate agency have a drinking problem?

If we’re honest with ourselves, I think the answer is: yes – or at the very least, a drinking culture problem.

Not because every agent is secretly an alcoholic, and not because every event ends in chaos. But because our big industry moments are still overwhelmingly designed around alcohol, the data suggests that professional workers drink heavily for work-related reasons, and suffer health and productivity consequences as a result, and too often, bad behaviour is excused or minimised with a shrug and “He’s had a few.”

We work in a high-pressure sector. Long hours. Big targets. Emotional conversations about money, homes and life plans. It’s not surprising that many people reach for “a drink to take the edge off”.

We absolutely do deserve opportunities to blow off steam and celebrate.

But if those plans always revolve around drinking… what does that say about us as an industry? And what is it actually doing to our health, our reputation, and the next generation coming through?

Where we go from here

I’m not suggesting we replace the property awards after-party with a mindfulness circle and a herbal tea bar.

But we could, collectively, decide to do a few things differently:

Design events where alcohol isn’t the main character. Make it one option among many, not the organising principle. If your invite reads more like a bar menu than an agenda, that’s a clue.

Offer proper alcohol-free choices. Not just warm orange juice in a flute. If 75% of workers would prefer socials without the booze at the centre, let’s give them something decent to hold.

Set and enforce behaviour standards. “He’s had a few” is not a defence. Event organisers and employers should be crystal clear about what’s acceptable – and what the consequences are when lines are crossed.

Talk honestly about pressure. As leaders, if we’re the ones saying “Go on, just have one,” we’re part of the problem. If someone says no, that’s the end of the conversation, not the start of the sales pitch.

Model alternatives. Senior people who nurse pints of water at the bar are quietly radical. They give permission for others to do the same.

For me personally, not drinking has made conferences and awards feel sharper, kinder and more interesting. I go for the content, the conversations and – if the DJ deigns to play a bit of Motown – the dance floor, but I leave with my dignity (mostly) intact and my memory functioning.

Consider this: What kind of industry do we want to be when we’re sober?

Toby Martin is chief content officer at We Are Unchained, and is great fun at parties.