From Misfits to Circuit, we’ve all had our fair share of elbows on the dancefloor and someone nicking your spot in the drinks queue. Post pandemic, have young people left their manners at home on a night out? Or, as clubs and small venues continue to close, have we lost the essence of clubbing etiquette as a whole?

Clubbing is an integral aspect of the majority of students’ uni experience—the sociality, the music, the self-inflicted intoxication and the dancing. But recent figures paint a bleak picture. Since March 2020, 37% of UK clubs have permanently shut their doors, with an average of three clubs closing per week. If the trend continues, UK clubbing could be “extinct” by the end of the decade.

And it’s not just the venues that are struggling. High inflation rates have “put students off” nights out, with one in five working over twenty hours a week just to make ends meet. Clubbing has become an unaffordable luxury, as students juggle rent, bills, the weekly food shop, and the ever-growing cost of living.

In a stark contrast to the glory days of the “superclub era” of the 90s, clubbing in 2025 is a far cry from its former glory and, honestly, a bit shit. Drum’n’Bass, house music, and EDM have instead been replaced by the likes of Joey Essex’s “Reem” and numerous remixes of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso”—and, if that’s not bad enough, Joey Essex himself probably popped in your local Pop World. Combined with the blatant lack of respect and manners—shoving in queues, unsolicited flash photography on the dancefloor and scraps in the toilet—more and more students are simply “not interested” in hitting up the clubs.

So, how did we get here in the first place?

The COVID-19 pandemic led to an entire generation missing out on a year or more of pubs, clubs, and other experiences, and, as a result, their relationship with music is fundamentally more online. Add to that the cost-of-living crisis, and it’s no wonder young people are opting out of nights out. When clubbing feels more like an overpriced hassle than a chance to let loose, it’s easy to see why the etiquette of the past has slipped into the background.

The demand for a better, safer, and more respectful night out is on the rise. Following strict restrictions and social-distancing rules, people now want to enjoy themselves while also feeling safe and comfortable (or as comfortable as you’re going to get after ten Jägerbombs). As a result, clubbing etiquette—once a given, now being rediscovered—has become a central topic for clubgoers and event organisers alike. It’s not just about keeping your elbows to yourself (although, yes, please do), it’s about respecting personal space, being mindful in queues, and not being that person who harasses the DJ for their favourite track.

The revival of clubbing etiquette signals a return to the true values of rave and, hopefully, a half-decent night out. When you’re chucking your keys, phone and half-drunk Smirnoff bottle into your bag, don’t forget to toss your manners in, too.