5 days ago
Which is worse: advertising two-for-one drinks or selling Class A drugs on Facebook?
Or more pragmatically, which will land you in more trouble? Emma Gleason finds out.
For The Golden Mile's bars battling through decline, revitalisation and those fearsome Courtenay Place gulls, getting punters in the door in the first place can be a hurdle. You're competing with every other watering hole in the neighbourhood, trendy green beverages, pigeon poo, and the grim fact that some people would rather stay home and watch TikToks. What's a proprietor to do?
In the case of The Residence Bar, a blackboard chalked up with jaunty martini glasses and a two-for-one happy hour offer seemed to be a good idea – until it wasn't. Owner Jose Ubiaga scrubbed it off after an email from the Wellington City Council, but six months later, it landed him in front of the Alcohol Regulatory and Licensing Authority for the 'irresponsible promotion of alcohol'.
The offer had breached the Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act 2012, which deems it an offence to promote a discount that 'leads people, or is likely to lead people, to believe that the price is 25% or more below the price at which the alcohol is ordinarily sold'. And because the sign could be seen outside the premises – also deemed 'irresponsible' by law – that was another no-no. The Authority decided on a 48-hour suspension and a negative holding for The Residence, while dismissing the complaint against Ubaiga's other business, The Dakota Bar, which promoted a similar deal on social media.
These online platforms have their own codes of conduct, and if you were to advertise the sale of alcohol or, better yet, magic mushrooms on Facebook, you'd risk having your listing removed.
Offline, the consequences of breaking the rules are a bit harsher. Ubiaga closed the bar for two days and reckons he lost thousands of dollars in potential earnings. While he accepted the mistake, he's been critical about the council's licensing policies in the past, calling them a contributing factor in the liquidation of his other bars, Rubix and SugarWoods, last year. He's not the only one; another Courtenay Place bar owner accused the council of 'ganging up' on the party precinct.
Licensing standoffs in the country's cities and regions make regular headlines (news reports explain grievances and rebuttals, while dutifully pointing out the harm caused by alcohol in communities) as communities and agencies try to curtail the social impacts of getting on the piss.
Selling booze is more complicated than a moustachioed mixologist's most inventive concoction. Bars, pubs and restaurants need an 'on-licence' licence. Getting one requires supporting documentation (including scale plans of the venue, menus, and host responsibility policies) and a fee, which ranges from three to four figures, depending on the business risk category and region. A sprawling Amohia Te Waiora flowchart outlines the complex process, including public notifications, consideration by District Licensing Committees and the Alcohol Regulatory and Licensing Authority, judgements and appeals and hearings. Some businesses have to wait months for approval. Others are flat-out declined.
The Sale and Supply of Alcohol (Community Participation) Amendment Act 2023 now allows anyone, excluding trade competitors, to object to an application, and is geared at giving communities a voice and minimising harm. In Gisborne, a kura principal appealed the licence granted to a new tavern located 30 metres away from the school.
Once a business gets a licence they have to keep it, a process that includes renewals. Rules are strict (don't serve anyone wasted or under 18) and someone with a manager's certificate has to be on duty whenever alcohol is being sold or consumed. A pub in Tauranga lost its liquor licence after repeated breaches, including serving someone underage. Some, like the infamous Edinburgh Castle, appear to have given up altogether.
Those that secure a licence are faced with promoting a relatively pricey, non-essential category of beverages with highly publicised health risks (and out-of-date guidelines) amidst shifting public perception and habits. Happy hour deals are a common format with a long history, offering cheap drinks and food, appealing to anyone who wants a bargain or had a bad day.
It's winter, everything feels awful, and people are looking to ingest mood-altering substances of one kind or another to take the edge off. But rather than visit the staunchly regulated neighbourhood bar, many are turning to the wild west of Facebook Marketplace.
A recent investigation by the Herald's Michael Morrah found 56 different listings for illegal drugs advertised on the platform (which requires only slightly more effort than chucking sneakers on the power lines). Want mushrooms? Go on Facebook Marketplace. Weed? Same answer. There's even apparently cocaine and ketamine to be found amidst the secondhand beds, dehumidifiers and pre-owned engagement rings.
Slinging controlled substances on there isn't without its risks. Meta may take your post down if someone complains or their moderators find it. If your side hustle is heroin, fentanyl or cocaine and they sniff it out, you're looking at the grim outcome of a disabled account. (Get caught selling Class-A drugs on the street and, according to sentencing guidelines, you'll likely be facing imprisonment if convicted.)
The ads the Herald investigated remained up until it flagged them with Meta, which removed them for violating its community standards. But, like blue meanies in an optimal growing environment, more had reportedly sprung up by the next day.
Entrepreneurial Kiwis who hate admin will find no complicated forms, flowcharts or even fees (unlike Trademe) when listing on Facebook Marketplace. Anyone with a Facebook account can simply click on Marketplace, hit 'sell' and 'create listing', chuck up a picture of that air fryer your mum gave you, decide on price, category and condition (description is optional) and hit publish.
The process would be the same for the mushrooms, gummies 'and more!' unearthed by the Herald. A not-stoked justice minister Paul Goldsmith declared the whole thing 'outrageous' and told Morrah he'd be asking the tech giant some 'tough questions', but acknowledged the 'global context' of regulating the platform, which isn't liable for third-party content.
Buying drugs online has seen a 'surge' in Aotearoa; the 2024 New Zealand Drug Trends Survey showed an increasing number of transactions were taking place on digital platforms like Facebook/Messenger and Snapchat. The marketing and commerce of controlled substances has been reshaped by digital convenience, much like entertainment, retail and hospitality.
How easy is it? I stumbled through the tumbleweed and cowboys of Facebook Marketplace and found plastic sandwich bags stuffed with dried mushrooms and carefully labelled as golden teachers (aka psilocybe cubensis) being sold in New Plymouth, with similar listings for Auckland. Booze is harder to find, but if it's 13 litres of ethyl alcohol you're after, there's some in Mt Eden. You might have to drive past some plaintive happy hour signs to get it though.
