Key Takeaways
- In the 18th century, Canadians consumed roughly 15 times more alcohol per person than today, almost exclusively in the form of cheap Caribbean rum.
- Historian Allan Greer argues that rum functioned as a tool of “alcoholic capitalism,” enabling employers to depress wages by trapping seasonal workers in debt through inflated rum prices.
- The same coercive mechanisms were applied to Indigenous peoples, who were pressured to trade furs for rum, creating social turmoil and reinforcing lasting stereotypes.
- Indigenous resistance to alcohol emerged as early as the 1670s in communities like Kahnawake, settler‑wide temperance movements only gaining traction a century later.
- Contemporary scholarship shows that the stereotype linking Indigenous peoples with alcoholism is inaccurate; surveys indicate lower reported drinking rates among Indigenous populations than the national average.
- Greer’s book Canada, in the Age of Rum expands the Atlantic‑world narrative of exploitative commodity chains, demonstrating Canada’s reliance on rum despite the absence of large‑scale enslaved labor.
Introduction: A Bartender’s Curiosity Sparks a Historical Inquiry
Montreal bartender Jackson Long, a self‑described rum connoisseur with Jamaican roots, grew uneasy about the gaps in Canada’s rum‑related history. While preparing to open his bar, El Pequeño, in Old Montreal, he remarked that large swaths of this past remain “buried” until a historian decides to dig deeper. Long’s enthusiasm set the stage for a conversation with Allan Greer, whose forthcoming book aims to illuminate those forgotten chapters.
The Scope of Rum Consumption in 18th‑Century Canada
Allan Greer’s research reveals staggering drinking habits: Canadians in the 1700s consumed about fifteen times the alcohol per capita that modern Canadians do, and virtually all of it was rum. In certain regions, the annual intake exceeded thirty litres per person—far beyond today’s norms. Greer emphasizes that this massive consumption was not a matter of personal taste alone but was shaped by economic forces that made rum cheap, ubiquitous, and, ultimately, exploitative.
Rum as a Tool of “Alcoholic Capitalism”
Greer coins the term “alcoholic capitalism” to describe how rum facilitated profit for colonial enterprises. Seasonal workers—fishers, fur‑trade voyageurs, lumberjacks—were often paid in rum sold at four to five times its retail price, plunging them into debt by season’s end. To settle these debts, many felt compelled to sign on for another season, effectively binding their labor to the very companies that supplied the spirit. This mechanism allowed employers to depress actual wages while keeping their businesses afloat.
Impact on Indigenous Communities
The historian also documents how traders from urban centers such as Montreal used rum to acquire furs from Indigenous peoples. By introducing an addictive substance to communities with little prior experience of alcohol, traders created a dependency that disrupted social cohesion. Greer notes that Indigenous groups quickly recognized the harm; resistance emerged as early as the 1670s in places like Kahnawake, where community members organized against the rum trade long before settler‑wide temperance movements appeared.
Settler Temperance Lag and Persistent Stereotypes
While Indigenous resistance surfaced in the late 17th century, settler communities only began serious advocacy against alcohol’s deleterious effects around the 1820s—a full century later. Despite this delay, the stereotype linking Indigenous peoples with alcoholism persisted, shaping public perception for generations. Dr. Omeasoo Wahpasiw, an associate professor of Indigenous studies at Carlton University, stresses the importance of confronting this myth, pointing out that surveys show Indigenous peoples are actually less likely to drink alcohol than the broader Canadian population.
Challenging the Alcoholism Stereotype
Dr. Wahpasiw cites Statistics Canada data indicating lower rates of reported drinking among Indigenous communities compared to non‑Indigenous groups. She argues that the enduring stereotype obscures the reality of colonial exploitation and distracts from addressing the true drivers of substance‑related harms. Recognizing this discrepancy is essential for both accurate historical understanding and effective contemporary policy.
Connecting Canada to Atlantic Exploitative Networks
Dr. Anya Zilberstein, a historian at Concordia University, praises Greer’s work for situating Canada within the wider Atlantic world of exploitative commodity chains. She notes that while Canada lacked the plantation‑scale enslaved labor seen elsewhere, rum still served as a conduit for profit derived from African labor and Caribbean sugar plantations. Zilberstein expresses surprise at the extent to which Canada relied on rum, underscoring the book’s contribution to a more nuanced view of colonial economics.
Responses from Rum Enthusiasts and Scholars
Lance Surujbally, author of the rum blog Lone Caner, found Greer’s revelations about debt bondage and indentured servitude eye‑opening. He notes that rum’s role extended beyond mere consumption to shaping labor relations and social control. Similarly, bartender Jackson Long expressed excitement, urging Canadians to appreciate the spirit’s modern enjoyment while acknowledging its troubled past. Both voices highlight the book’s potential to spark broader public dialogue about alcohol’s societal impact.
Conclusion: Lessons for Modern Consumers
Jackson Long hopes that readers of Greer’s Canada, in the Age of Rum will savor today’s rum responsibly, armed with an awareness of its historical role in coercive labor practices and cultural disruption. By connecting past exploitation to present‑day appreciation, the work invites a more conscious engagement with one of the world’s oldest spirits—one that acknowledges both its pleasure‑giving qualities and its darker legacy.