My wife is addicted to her water bottle – we must end our hydration obsession

One of the surprising things about the great heatwave of 1976 was how few schoolchildren collapsed and died of dehydration in playgrounds. To my knowledge, there were none, and I was there (I’m 56).

No reports surfaced of playing fields strewn with children panting their last breath. Back then, we didn’t even have sun hats or sunscreen. We miraculously survived by gulping a few tepid mouthfuls from the communal water fountain. The biggest danger was cold sore transmission.

That was before the Water Enlightenment. Today, we know better, don’t we? Water is revered and borne aloft in fancy receptacles like a religious talisman. Every kitchen has a drawer full of indestructible water bottles, mostly unused, mainly plastic. One of life’s great ironies is that millions of years after the water dries up and climate change has evaporated humanity from the face of the Earth, alien archaeologists will study our civilisation through the strata of plastic water bottles we left behind.

Water is no longer liquid that comes from the tap. It’s a social signifier. We divide into “hydro tribes”. There are the dependable mainstream water consumers: Buxton, Volvic; the old money drinkers: Evian, Perrier; and the status-signalling wellness water gluggers: Voss, Fiji Water. How you carry your water also defines you. Are you an adult-baby with your outsized Stanley sippy-cup, or do you strut around the gym with your two-litre “chug jug”?

That we’ve reached peak H2O was evidenced in a recent court ruling in Italy where a woman tried to sue a hotel for €2,700 for the emotional distress of being refused tap water. The claim was dismissed by a supreme court judge who ruled there was no law in the country requiring hotels and restaurant managers to provide customers with tap water. Let them drink San Pellegrino, the judge (probably) proclaimed. In the UK, it’s still perfectly acceptable to ask for table water in licensed premises, which are legally obliged to serve it to you, but fewer of us do. According to the British Soft Drinks Association’s 2025 annual report, year-on-year sales of bottled water rose by 3 per cent. The 3,065 million litres we drink a year account for nearly a fifth of total soft drink sales.

This flood of popularity is down to marketing, misinformation and, in my opinion, gullibility.

It began with Perrier. Over a century ago, it was a niche favourite with the English aristocracy, receiving royal warrants from Edward VII and George V. Then in the 80s, yuppies latched on to it, keen to show their continental elitism. Sales in the UK rose from 30 million litres a year in 1980 to 420 million litres by 1990, when routine testing in the US found traces of benzene in 12 bottles. This led to the destruction of 280 million bottles worldwide and a collapse in sales.

But by that time, Evian was shifting the water narrative away from water as a status symbol to water as a wellness product. The introduction of PET (polyethylene terephthalate) plastic bottles made water lightweight and resealable, perfect for upwardly mobile professionals and gym-goers.

For decades, our thirst for water has been driven by a core belief that, to stay properly hydrated, we need to drink eight glasses a day (around two litres). According to this doctrine, we need to stay hydrated to avoid problems ranging from lack of concentration and fatigue to kidney damage. Dehydration can, of course, be dangerous. Water is the single largest component of the human body, making up 50 to 80 per cent, and plays a vital role in most bodily functions. But the human body is designed to coast through life unconsciously maintaining a safe level of hydration. Despite this, we are nannied into drinking more.

The eight-glasses-a-day advice comes from a selective interpretation of a 1945 US Food and Nutrition Board recommendation, which suggested a daily intake of 2.5 litres but also stated that most of this fluid is already absorbed through food. This key bit of information was lost in translation. And despite numerous peer-reviewed studies that found zero scientific evidence supporting the eight-glass rule, it has stuck.

The “we don’t drink enough water” belief has advocates in schools, which now insist pupils carry water bottles. Others pushing this dogma have vested interests. For example, Hydration for Health, which lobbies for “healthy hydration as an integral part of public health nutritional guidelines”, was created by, and is sponsored by, Danone, producer of Volvic, Evian and Badoit bottled waters.

The inconvenient truth is that although people do need between two and 2.5 litres a day, this is easily achieved through a combination of water, everyday foods and other beverages, including tea and coffee. We don’t need to constantly attach ourselves to water bottles.

As proof, I write this on one of the hottest days of the year, having survived until 11.30am on just one cup of coffee. I am not a camel. My wife, on the other hand, is crippled by water insecurity and always needs at least one bottle to hand. Several two-litre bottles roll around in the footwells of her car in case of drought and she can’t sleep unless there is hydration within arm’s reach.

So, while it is sensible to drink “enough” during hot weather, unless you are dealing with extreme athletic exertion, old age, or specific medical conditions, you should relax and let nature do its job. Drink when thirsty – apart from booze, any liquid will do – and ensure your urine remains a pale, straw-like yellow. These are the only scientifically sound diagnostic tools you need for optimal hydration. Everything else is muddying the water.