These are scary times and the whole country feels on the brink of chaos. Tony Blair has called it the 'English disease'; the police are worried bobbies may have to patrol all night; domestic violence is predicted to rise sharply in consequence; and all English gentlemen are reportedly about to mutate into wife-beaters.

This plague about to engulf Britain has a name: the Licensing Act. Many of you are convinced that you won't survive the extended opening hours of pubs and bars and that your national penchant for the booze will be your downfall. I say, relax!

Look at the figures. Your beloved neighbours, namely the French, drink much more than you do; they actually drink more than anybody else on the planet. Buy a copy of the OECD Health Data for 2005 and you'll sleep better. The wine producers have always been heavier drinking countries. Compared with France, the UK shows some relatively modest alcohol consumption: 11.2 litres per person in 2004 against 14.8 litres in France.

A slight worry for you is that while alcohol consumption has been decreasing in France since the 1960s, it has kept rising in the UK. If this goes on, in 10 years, you'll have beaten the French. A satisfaction on one hand, a health hazard on the other.

There is only one solution for you: learn how to drink like the French, as judge Charles Harris called for on the Today programme last Tuesday when he said: 'Continental-style drinking requires continental-style people.' The venerable man seemed to believe that this would be the nation's salvation.

'But why should we want to be more like the French when it comes to drinking?' you might ask. Maybe because while the French drink much more than Britons, it hardly ever shows.

Unlike the British, even intoxicated French don't roll under tables, slurp at parties, vomit in the streets, show their breasts or buttocks to passersby, brawl with strangers, wake up in the morning in unknown bedrooms with unknown people.

The secret is not how much you drink but how, what, why and with whom you drink.

How to drink. Seated, eating, talking. Not standing up, nibbling crisps (if anything) and throwing pints down your neck as if your life depended on it. Drinking is not a race against time; it's either a pleasure or an illness. You choose. The French drink while eating. And as they like to think of themselves as the last philosophers on the planet, they like to think before they drink. They wonder what kind of wine would go well with the dishes they've chosen to eat. There is nothing pompous in this; it is in their blood. Did you know that Brittany cider goes very well with seafood? No need to go for chablis or sancerre blanc if it gives you a headache. As for red wine, it's not anathema to drink it with fish as long as it's light, like a sancerre rouge. See, it's easy.

Oh yes and you must talk. The French talk a lot, about everything and anything, fundamental matters like the latest aubergine caviar recipe and world geopolitics. A sip to lament the stupidity of George W Bush; a sip to mourn the end of France; a sip to dream of fomenting a devastating attack against Starbucks, a sip to celebrate a new idea. If you want to be a continental drinker, don't forget to take yourself very seriously and look inspired.

When the time comes to say goodbye to their fellow drinkers, the average Frenchman and woman may have drunk more than their British counterparts but will feel only tipsy, walk reasonably straight, still behave more or less courteously, be able to find the keyhole of their flat and still be able to make love.

What to drink. Wine, mainly. Red or white, although red is better for you. There are no alcopops in France and having a G and T in the afternoon is almost unheard of. Beer is only for football matches or if the country is seized by a heatwave.

French teenage boys don't drink so much; they're busier polishing their seduction skills. What gives them a kick is not a stiff drink but the prospect of taking a girl to see a risque film or a horror movie, one that will make her find refuge in their arms. Kissing in the dark is the ultimate aim of a French teenager, not puking in the gutter.

Why to drink. Because you're happy or unhappy - it doesn't matter - but never for the sake of getting plastered. The French drink for the taste, the physical pleasure they get from it, the unctuousness on the tongue and the warmth in their throat. I know this sounds ridiculous but if you think I'm joking, think twice.

Whom to drink with. I often wonder why the British have to binge drink once or twice a week instead of drinking two glasses every day. They drink when going out, often when with the opposite sex. Do they drink because they are afraid of the other, of the possible attraction they might feel to the other? Do the British drink to feel stronger in front of a man or a woman? The French don't drink too much when with the opposite sex precisely in order to make a good impression and, peradventure, make love. What else is there in life ?

But rest assured. There is something the French can't do and that the British are the best at: genius and drink. Shakespeare for one. So, à votre santé et à la gloire de l'Angleterre!

· Agnes Poirier is the London correspondent of Libération. Her book, Les Nouveaux Anglais, will be published next year by Weidenfeld &amp; Nicolson