It's hard to initiate an honest public conversation about alcohol in Scotland because so many of us are dishonest about our relationship with the substance.

People tend to think it's other types of drinking that are problematic and not their own. For many, that might be true but I suspect there's quite a lot of people out there who are either engaging in a bit of self-deception regarding their relationship with booze or have no insight into the truth about the role it plays in their life.

Being a recovered alcoholic, these are two common tropes of the heavy drinker with which I can wholeheartedly identify.

Scotland is by far the most seriously afflicted country in Britain when it comes to the demon drink. In fact, the figures show we are not as far from Moscow as a map of the world might suggest. The problem is undeniable. The scale is politically intimidating and often the issue seems culturally insurmountable. Which is why the Scottish Government needed to act and in 2012 they did with the introduction of minimum pricing.

Minimum pricing would put a floor on the cost of alcohol. It would put an end to 3 litre bottles of cider being sold for as low as £1.60 and push the price of most bottled spirits to over £20.

Essentially, placing a new value on alcohol which is loosely linked to its propensity for harm; potentially limiting access to the substance by encouraging consumers to reconsider the cost - financial or otherwise.

Research by the University of Sheffield estimates that the proposed minimum price of 50p per unit of alcohol would result in the following benefits:

Such reductions are considerable when you bear in mind that every individual case also involves a family on the periphery which usually exists in the context of a challenged community.

When we're talking about alcoholism we're not just referring to chronic alcoholics.

We're talking about hospital admissions for physical injuries, domestic violence, alcohol-related mental and behavioural disorders, alcohol poisoning, violent deaths, cirrhosis of the liver and the cultures of neglect and abuse that often form in alcohol-related dysfunction. Alcohol misuse is associated with everything from physical health problems like cancer and heart disease to offending behaviour, deliberate self-harm, suicide as well as unemployment and homelessness.

It's universally accepted, not least by the Scottish Government, that minimum pricing is not a panacea for this issue. It'll work only as part of a wider strategy aimed at addressing both the supply and demand for alcohol. This means more politically challenging action on poverty and its attendant difficulties as well as the courage to initiate policies that may draw fire from powerful drinks lobbies, like reducing licences to sell booze or inhibiting advertising in some way.

It may also be beneficial to place a levy on certain products that are largely unaffected under minimum pricing, such as alcopops and drinks that contain high levels of caffeine. This would create revenue that could be invested into services for people affected while also reducing the wider financial burden on society.

The point is, nobody believes this measure alone will bring about a sea-change in relation to alcohol - but minimum pricing would be a good start.

Of course, the topic is quite close to home for many and for that reason provokes strong opinions.

Aside from people who are generally unenthusiastic about the SNP, the biggest push back so far is from those concerned that minimum pricing disproportionately affects the poor. This concern is valid.

People from the poorest parts of Scotland are much more likely to be admitted to hospital with an alcohol-related issue than people from affluent areas. But you'd be hard-pressed to propose a solution that didn't impact the poor disproportionately because they are more likely to engage in the harmful drinking these policies are designed to deter.

But the personal cost of minimum pricing is not as much as some people are suggesting.

Modelling of the financial implications for drinkers, based on a minimum price of 40p per unit (10p lower than we now have), showed that if you drank within the recommended guidelines for men and women then it would cost you £6-a-year more. For more hazardous drinkers, between £36 and £39 and more harmful drinkers would be coughing up about £135 extra every year. This is not exactly eye-watering in the context of how much people already spend on booze.

This isn't about trying to impose abstinence on everyone. Minimum pricing is about using an economic lever to encourage people to re-evaluate their lifestyles for the benefit of themselves and society. This isn't about authoritarian control, this is about the government trying to make it easier for you to make the sort of lifestyle adjustments you're always going on about when you're drunk.

People will still be free to consume whatever they want regardless but minimum pricing might encourage some drinkers to have three cans instead of six, or chip-in for a bottle of spirits between four instead of a half bottle each. God forbid, maybe some would even take a weekend off occasionally. Small changes in drinking behaviour accumulate quickly on a national scale which is why this policy, as part of a wider strategy, is an absolute necessity.

Sceptics of minimum pricing say this measure won't deter many alcoholics - implying something already exists in the universe capable of performing such a feat.

Fair enough, the price of a bottle of wine, in and of itself, didn't sway me to get sober. But the cumulative cost of drinking a bottle every other day took its toll and part of that cumulative cost was financial.

The idea we shouldn't be making it any harder for alcoholics to obtain drink is to misunderstand what eventually compels us to stop. Alcoholics stop because we run out of options to exploit, not because of some great epiphany we have in the bevvy isle at Tesco. We stop because we are going to die or because we are going to jail or because our friends and families wash their hands of us completely. We stop because it suddenly hits us that we cannot go on drinking any longer because the cost is too great. It's rare for an alcoholic to cease drinking until all resources are exhausted. Do you think I'd be sitting here writing this article if I could have a drink and get away with it?

With an even more targeted approach, which includes minimum pricing, you could hasten some people's decision to try to put their drinking days behind them. How many gave up cigarettes because of the increasing cost, health implications and social inconvenience? I know I certainly did and I was truly hooked. Let's not forget that decisive government interventions, based on good research, have already catalysed a drastic shift in attitudes towards drink-driving, domestic abuse, road-safety, sexual health, as well as smoking.

So let's get behind minimum pricing. Let's begin confronting the fact that there is a linear correlation between our atrocious public health and our abysmal levels of alcohol consumption. Let's concede that while root causes absolutely need to be addressed that this should not prevent action being taken now - without delay.

The more alcohol we consume the more problems we have as a society and the cheaper the booze the more we drink. Minimum pricing isn't just about alcoholics. It's about sending a clear message to everyone that getting paralytic for less than three quid is no longer an acceptable option in Scotland - end of story.

Enough is enough.

Alcohol is not your friend. It's not even your loyal servant. Alcohol is a powerful, potentially addictive psychoactive drug which is why there are clear guidelines on how much we can safely consume. Alcohol is so powerful it prevents otherwise rational people from grappling with the most basic of truths.

Sadly, its true menace is obscured by pernicious myths often fuelled by the alco hol industry as well as heavy drinkers themselves. But ultimately, beneath the frothy nostalgic appeal, alcohol is a potentially lethal drug that ruins more lives every year than any other substance you care to mention. How many of you would stop drinking today if you thought you could? Be honest.

If placing a minimum price on such a powerful, ubiquitous drug is going to leave some of us noticeably out of pocket, then maybe it's time to think about how much we're drinking and why.

Comment by Darren McGarvey. Darren is a writer and broadcaster and, under the name Loki, a rapper and hip hop artist. His music can be found here.