There’s been a structural shift in consumer spending habits but Edmund Weil reckons that with it comes an opportunity for bars to create a broader spirit of enjoyment. 


As we head further into 2026, the industry feels both squeezed and stretched, caught in a demographic pincer movement that is forcing us to rethink the very nature of hospitality. We are squeezed in the most literal sense: disposable income has been hollowed out across almost every segment. But we are also stretched, as venues are forced to reach further across the demographic spectrum than ever before to keep bums on seats. 

 The data confirms this structural shift. According to RSM UK’s 2026 Outlook, 35% of consumers are actively cutting back on the frequency of their nights out, while Barclays reports a generational gear change in spending. For those of us behind the stick, the most concerning trend is the fading from the scene of the reliable cocktail connoisseur. These are the enthusiasts who lived for the craft culture of London’s pre-pandemic  

glory days, and could be seen out and about three or four nights a week. Today, many of those familiar faces have aged out. 

My editor and I recently discussed how we have become part of this very statistic. We like the idea of going out, but there are oh so many impediments: kids, work, travel, money, early starts, the onset in one’s forties of intriguing but horrific new flavours of hangover. With five venues to my name, I find myself struggling to visit all of mine in a month, let alone make it down to exciting new openings or revisit old favourites. The connoisseurs are still out there, but fewer and further between, concentrated in the high-status, award-winning niches rather than spread across the city. 

 Different rules 

This leaves us with a younger demographic that plays by different rules. While they’re still showing up, many will nurse a glass or two of house wine through a two-hour jazz set to secure an experience on a budget. From a P&L perspective, that table is losing the venue money. While cover charges or minimum spends can mitigate the damage, they often act as a transactional barrier to the very magic that we all strive for: that contract between the host and guest that says “I’ll show you a good time and you’ll spend lots of money”. Jeremy King, perhaps the greatest ever British restaurateur, referred to it as “The Fun: that disembodied spirit that, if you create precisely the right conditions, makes its way around a room, tickling guests and filling up glasses.” 

Conjuring the The Fun is not easy. It’s an abstract, ephemeral entity: we all know it when we see it, but putting your finger on how or why is another matter entirely. In pondering these questions, my mind was drawn to the legendary seventies alchemy of Studio 54. Steve Rubell famously described his Manhattan nightclub as a “laboratory of fun”, a carefully curated social experiment where bankers, celebrities, and the queer community were tossed into a blender together and partied. It was the ultimate demographic stretch and, for a brief cultural moment, was probably the most exciting place in the world for a night out. That same spirit of radical inclusivity – the understanding that anyone who likes a good time, young or old, rich or poor, knows the fun when they see it – is exactly what we need to recapture. 

This is where the stretch becomes an opportunity.  I believe the bars that thrive across the coming decade will be those that eschew hyper-niche concepts and embrace a broader hospitality to create the perfect culture for that spirit of fun to thrive. It’s about restoring the balance: the venue provides the stage, the staff provide the warmth, and the crowd provides the chemistry. Get that mix right, where banker, boomer, bohemian and tourist are all tickled by the same magic, and the glasses will stay full.

Here’s to The Fun!