Is the Daily Mail encouraging its readers to beat their wives? Unlikely as this might seem, the evidence would suggest that it is. Earlier in the month it carried a two-page feature in which was spelt out the central position in the binge-drinking culture played by Stella Artois lager. So well known had it become as a provoker of violence, wrote Victoria Moore, that many referred to it as the "wife beater". She added: "For those familiar with its reputation, the idea of asking for 'a pint of Stella please, mate' is rapidly becoming about as appealing as the idea of ordering the down-and-outs' favourite, a pint of Special Brew."

Fortunately - or maybe not - for Daily Mail readers, they will not necessarily have the embarrassment of having to make that order. They can sit at home with cases of the stuff on hand - having been made aware of its availability in a supermarket, at a bargain price, through an advertisement in their favourite newspaper. On the very day of Ms Moore's 'why-oh-why?' whinge the Mail published a large the advert for Asda. In it the brew that used proudly to proclaim itself "reassuringly expensive" was offered for as little as 33p a can, provided that you buy three cases (60 cans) of it. Plenty of fuel for wife-beating there.

Ms Moore's article had made great play of the fact that discounted supermarket deals of this sort had contributed to the bad name that Stella had earned. Discounting had the effect, she said, of attracting customers who were "good for sales but certainly didn't fit the profile for a high-quality product". She quoted a 'brand expert' called James Osmond, who said: "This often happens when a brand gets so enormous that it tries to appeal to everyone. Either it becomes ubiquitous and begins to lose credibility. Or it's bought by the wrong type of customer."

But hasn't Stella always been bought by customers out to get themselves smashed in double-quick time? I believe it has. My knowledge of the product goes back to its earliest days in Britain, in the early 1970s, when it was test-marketed by Whitbread in the area where I lived. Boozers of my acquaintance (and there were many) soon became aware that a few pints quickly led to inebriation, which was a state many wished to achieve. The fact that it also tasted very good meant they were in a win-win situation.

Its makers were winning too, for sales took off very speedily. Shall I tell you why this was? It was not because Stella Artois called itself "reassuringly expensive" - that advertising slogan came much later. It was because the product was firmly aimed at a section of the population that would eventually be called (first by Home Secretary Douglas Hurd, I think) the lager louts. I remember advertising slogans - am someone, for instance, who knows why the lights were going out all over Britain (because "everyone's doing the Galaxy dark room test"). I remember's Stella's early campaign and the slogan it used: "Stella's for the fellas who like their lager strong."

Given that drinks companies exist to sell drink - and as much of it as possible - they can hardly be blamed for adopting whatever means they can to achieve this end. Ought we expect them to show social responsibility (though they have long liked to pretend that they do)? It is up to society to curb their ambitions, which is what the licensing laws used to do rather well. Now, of course, the powerful drinks lobby has successfully arranged for their relaxation. The effects of this can be seen nightly in such places as Oxford's George Street, which the Daily Mail tells us is called (though I had never previously heard the name) "Vomit Alley".

But what can be seen? Mail columnist Stephen Glover, who lives in the city, told his readers on November 15 - quite a day for Mail anti-booze rants - that "here after midnight on any day you may observe the youth of Oxford, whether students or townsfolk, enjoying their pleasures: drinking, puking, lying down in the street and, as it may be, hitting one another over the head".

One wonders how he knows all this because - yellow belly that he is - he never goes near the place at this time of night. He told us so: "As an inhabitant of Oxford of some years standing, I would rather wander into the Gaza Strip carrying a placard saying 'British journalist' than stray into Vomit Alley after midnight." Can he be serious? If so, perhaps I should advise him to get a life. To stay away from part of our city because of imagined fears for his safety is merely playing into the hands of those he styles yobs. He is creating a no-go area where one doesn't exist. Reclaim the streets, man!

I walk quite often through George Street, and on into the associated clubland of Park End Street. It makes me feel rather old, admittedly, but I don't feel intimidated. Youngsters out having a good time are hardly likely to attack or rob a total stranger. Our safety is provided in their numbers. It was much more hazardous to walk west from the city in the days when the streets were quiet and empty. I once evaded a pair of muggers by crossing quickly to the station and hailing a taxi home. After I apologised to the driver for only going 400 yards, he told me not to worry. He understood the need; he had emergency calls like this all the time.