UK hospitality is battered. Three venues closing every day, employment costs spiralling, a government that piles on venues and an industry it should be protecting. In that environment it's hardly surprising that interest in and investment into hospitality career paths is at an all-time low. And yet, I'd argue that cutting investment in people is precisely the wrong response during challenging times.
The UK used to have several national groups which set the standard for on-trade training. And in turn set a standard for the wider industry in developing their people. Many of those groups no longer exist, and those that remain largely aren't doing the same amount of it. There are honourable exceptions of course – we are proud to work with them – and are notable precisely because of their talented teams. Investment in people and commercial success have a habit of travelling together.
The patience problem
There is a wider issue that nobody talks about enough, which is patience (and the alarming shortage of it) on both sides of the bar – the old model of starting as a bar back, watching, absorbing, gradually taking on more responsibility. Venues often don't have the time for that ladder anymore, and increasingly, neither do the people coming in. We look so often at efficiency; how quickly and accurately can one serve a customer?; but I’d argue if we do too much of that, we’re going to lose something. The special something when a bartender lingers for a chat, takes time to provide a recommendation or add something to your in-venue experience.
Simultaneously, good bartending itself is being simplified. Batched cocktails, standardised serves, the relentless pursuit of operational efficiency – all understandable, all commercially rational – but let’s look at what we can do to retain the connection, alongside these efficiencies. More time for warmth, conversation, the imparting of knowledge and love of good spirits. And this is stuff we can train into our teams, with just a little care.
Romanticising the bottom rung
‘Starting at the bottom’ is such an undesirable approach these days. Nobody wants to do it – and yet it really is the very best place to start. It teaches you so much more than skills behind the bar; it teaches you about people, about the products, about resilience. Some of the most talented people I know started at the bottom, and it’s how they became as brilliant as they are.
The flip side of that particular coin is on us as employers. If we want people starting from scratch, we also need to make work worthwhile in practice. Hospitality is creative, fun, and a bit sexy, but it’s also long shifts, antisocial hours, and physically demanding. I think we do the next generation a disservice when we wave them away with tales of how character-building it all was. The industry is competing for talent against sectors that offer more predictable hours and better optics. We need to be honest about what we're asking of people, and then actually invest in making the journey worth it.
When I speak at universities – Oxford Brookes, Manchester Met, Cranfield, the Adam Smith Business School, to name a few whose students I’ve bored recently – I encounter students who are smart, motivated and ambitious. I respect that. They know the theory, they've read the case studies, but so few have stood behind a bar on a Saturday night and figured out, in real time, how to keep eight people happy simultaneously. No module covers that. Instead, its learned through experience.
Don’t get me wrong – this generation is not soft or disengaged, rather they're discerning. They want to understand why they're doing something, not just be told to do it. And that's actually a good thing, if the industry meets them with all the good stuff, to make the hard work worth it.
Education, education, education
At Mangrove, and our wider parent group SPIRIBAM within Groupe Bernard Hayot, education is fundamental to what we do and why we do it. Our masterclasses are free to the trade and we run them because we believe in the liquid we represent. We appreciate that a bartender educated in your product is an asset – an advocate – but beyond that it makes them better at their job. Understanding what's in the bottle changes how you talk about it, and how you talk about it changes whether someone orders another one.
There are fewer and fewer companies making this investment in education now. But I stand by it – and bartending community, I’m speaking directly to you now – if you grab those education opportunities with both hands, you will set yourself apart, professionally. Because in a market where nothing is cheap and consumers are increasingly unforgiving, the difference between a good night and a great one is almost always the human behind the bar.
Take my advice…
If I had someone new to the industry in front of me, first I’d tell them to get some hours behind the bar. Then, I'd tell them this: learn two or three facts about each spirit on your back bar and suss out how to make your customers happy. There is a commercial value in that, as well as ethical value.
Enter competitions. The Giffard West Cup (of which Mangrove is a sponsor), and others like it, are not vanity exercises. They give you exposure, they sharpen your skills, they demonstrate your capability to people who can change your career, and they really do open up a world of opportunities. Worst case you lose, but learn a ton. What exactly is the downside?
I care about this industry – deeply and, yes, self-interestedly. We recruit people with a depth of experience in the spirits and hospitality industries. Many of my team’s careers started behind the bar. In more ways than one, Mangrove's success depends on a hospitality sector that's thriving, curious and well-trained. So does my enjoyment of going out. So, I implore all parties involved to do their utmost and make a career in hospitality one that’s worth working hard for.
Nick Gillett is MD of premium spirit specialist Mangrove UK.