Why Wirtshaus?

Austrian lessons on commerce, community, and communication

Fortepan / Bauer Sándor

„What is more beautiful than an empty stage? An empty Wirtshaus! Empty chairs, empty, weighty tables. An empty Wirtshaus! With nothing but the host inside! Well, unfortunately, that’s not a recipe for success.“

—Albert Ostermaier, Gästebeschimpfung (guest vilification), 2017

Inn, pub, tavern: The German-Austrian word Wirtshaus (literally: house of the host) is hard to translate. It denotes a traditional establishment that serves alcoholic beverages and hearty food in a rustic atmosphere that encourages conviviality and conversation. When I was younger, I pictured Wirtshäuser as places where older men sat in dark, stale-smelling rooms, drinking way too much beer and schnapps, loudly, often controversially talking garbage. Whether that image held much truth or was merely a cliché, my opinion of the Wirtshaus changed thoroughly – and, it seems to me, that the Wirtshaus itself did as well. There’s a surprising number of things to learn at the Wirtshaus about commerce, community, and communication. When I was last in Vienna, I did some research in a rather pleasant way.

Wirtshaus and commerce

There’s no shortage of complaints when the conversation turns to gastronomy: lack of staff, bureaucratic barriers, outdated concepts, health-obsessed guests, concerns about the future that kill the mood for spending and celebrating – you name it. Vienna, however, a city renowned for its exceptionally high quality of life, presents a different picture. The city not only boasts a long-established culinary culture but has also revitalized it in intriguing ways. During my last visit, I ignored both Würstlstände and Michelin-starred restaurants, choosing instead to frequent half a dozen Wirtshäuser, some established in the 1950s, others launched just a few years ago. There was a lot to learn about the hospitality business.

Nowadays, many venues are choosing lighter wood paneling, which, unlike the traditional dark varieties, eliminates a heavy feel while still providing a warm ambiance. Seasonal and locally sourced dishes combine ecological consciousness with economic resilience and a strong sense of place, without rejecting international influences. The new Wirtshaus offers a simple, straightforward menu yet pays meticulous attention to detail, as expressed, for example, by the standard practice of providing oven-fresh, house-baked bread served with whipped salted butter. Special offers, such as exclusive bottlings from winemakers connected to the venue, often served by the glass, create a unique profile and ensure that a place delivers more than just the continuity of classics.

The perfect pacing of the courses, the graceful movement of the staff in the dining area, the seemingly effortless attention to every single diner: Excellent Wirtshäuser offer patrons a professionalism in service informed by fine dining, many times blended with genuine passion, cheerfulness, and wit. It’s the small details that matter, such as complimentary tap water or reading material provided to single diners. Sometimes, for the sake of digestion, smaller off-menu portions are offered, or ordering another course is discouraged, as guests who wake up feeling well the next morning are much more likely to return. And yes: some special treats are only served when a guest proves worthy—a refreshing remnant of inequality that can be overcome through achievement, rather than leveling down to the lowest standard for all.

It can be observed in many places: When restaurants embrace the concept of the renewed Wirtshaus, they are fully booked. What unfolds here, however, holds significance beyond mere pleasure; there’s more to learn at the Wirtshaus.

Wirtshaus and community

In 1965, the Austrian, LSE-trained, unorthodox economist Leopold Kohr published his book Freedom from Government. It contains a chapter that – in the German edition – is titled „Der Wirtshausstaat.“¹ Drawing on Aristotle, Kohr attributed the state’s origin to the human desire for social interaction and the joys of a good life. The state, he claimed, is essentially a neutral gathering place – just like a Wirtshaus. For Kohr, the Wirtshaus was the epitome of communal living, providing shelter, sustenance, and a place for social connection.

He saw the advantage of the Wirtshaus metaphor in that it reminds us that the state is an “earthly institution” that must serve human beings and not abstract entities like „the nation“ or „social justice.“ According to his „sociability theory,“ the state’s authority is subject to „unalterable constraints“ because it was meant to cater to individuals, not to „intrude upon the intimate sphere of personal existence“ in the name of grander goals. In other words, the host shouldn’t impose his views on the guests. However, Kohr acknowledged that the common ground Wirtshaus/state can also be a place of serious disagreements and disputes, where the host’s role might be to “restore order and pleasant living.“

The issue Kohr raised with his theory has lost none of its topicality: When precisely should the host intervene? This question became the subject of a notable podcast debate on September 16, 2021, involving two Berlin restaurateurs: the German Billy Wagner, who runs Nobelhard & Schmutzig, and the Austrian Willi Schlögl, host of the wine bar Freundschaft. Wagner, who refers to his venue as Germany’s most political restaurant, had caused a stir by affixing a sticker to his restaurant’s door that banned supporters of the far-right AfD party from entering. This, the host explained, was crucial for his company’s positioning. At his venue, where patrons are seated tightly, he stated he has “a certain duty to ensure the right kind of people come in.“²

Schlögl, whose family ran a Wirtshaus in Styria, disagreed. Wagner would exclude all people who, for whatever reason, associate themselves with a legal party. A host, he argued, has a different social responsibility: „I’d bring them in and try to persuade them that their current thinking might be misguided.“ In the atmosphere of his bar, top politicians of this party would soon feel uncomfortable anyway.

In the course of the discussion, Wagner invoked Karl Popper’s Paradox of Tolerance that intolerance should not be tolerated, but, much like numerous debaters nowadays, he misconstrued the (Austrian-born!) thinker’s idea, going against his true intentions. Popper explicitly wrote the following sentences, which are much closer to Schlögl’s position:

„I do not imply, for instance, that we should always suppress the utterance of intolerant philosophies; as long as we can counter them by rational argument and keep them in check by public opinion, suppression would certainly be unwise.“

Yasha Mounck recently reconstructed Popper’s position as “tolerate offensive views—but not violent actions” and thereby highlighted:

„The cartoonish version of the Paradox of Tolerance, in other words, is based on a conceptual confusion built atop an empirical falsehood. It’s a conceptual confusion because it refuses to acknowledge the fundamental distinction between offensive words and violent actions. And it’s an empirical falsehood because it wrongly assumes that intolerant views will, unless they are censored and those espousing them punished, win out in the market of ideas.“

Naturally, Schlögl would never tolerate violence in his premises, but he also wouldn’t issue an outright ban on disagreeable positions right from the start. His position reads like a contemporary version of Kohr’s ideas. Of course, the argument could be made that Kohrs’s comparison between a private company and the state is flawed because a private entrepreneur (like Wagner) can set the rules that apply in his establishment himself, while state legislation binds everyone.³ Yet by highlighting his social responsibility as a host, Schlögl goes beyond Kohrs’ Wirtshausstaat and addresses the Wirtshaus as a place in a democratic society—in other words, as a site for cultivating public discourse. Along with Kohr, he promotes the Wirtshaus as a vital (and occasionally rough) third space for discussion, where the owner rarely imposes a ban, instead relying on the persuasive power of good arguments and the place’s vibe, to which the in contrast to the digital realm limited anonymity of the participants, the style of debate fostered by other guests and the shared joy of good food and drink may contribute.

Wirtshaus and communication

In 1993, a year before his death, Leopold Kohr wrote another piece that refers to the Wirtshaus: „The Academic Inn.“⁴ With its origins in the Greek symposium (literally: „drinking together“) and its resemblance to the dining halls of British colleges, the Wirtshaus could be considered the “last refuge of the humanities.” Between protective, simultaneously liberating and soothing walls, Kohr elaborated, people dare to voice their genuine opinions. An academic Wirtshaus is not about “defending positions,” but about “the search for new approaches to the truth and the discovery of unknown continents beyond the horizon.”

Interestingly, Kohr added that what’s needed here is not so much academic schooling as a lively intellect. He considered the Wirtshaus a place deeply embedded in everyday life that, through the experience of open debate and the shared joy of life, can serve as a paradigm for the polity. One might dismiss that as naive, and indeed, there are situations in which the host/state must enforce the basic rules of coexistence. Yet, remembering the vision of a lively, welcoming place that fosters individuality can only benefit our fear-ridden era.

1. Reprinted in Leopold Kohr: „Small is beautiful“. Ausgewählte Schriften aus dem Gesamtwerk. Vienna 1995, p. 143-167.

2. Wagner’s position quite literally echoes the Nazi-bar-argument which is common in discussions about platform responsibility: „These guys come in and it’s always a nice, polite one. And you serve them because you don’t want to cause a scene. And then they become a regular and after a while they bring a friend. And that dude is cool too. And then THEY bring friends and the friends bring friends and they stop being cool and then you realize, oh shit, this is a Nazi bar now. And it’s too late because they’re entrenched and if you try to kick them out, they cause a PROBLEM. So you have to shut them down.“

3. Conversely, regarding the transferability of Wagner’s position to the state, in addition to the problem of scalability, there is, of course, the peril of a slippery slope and the question of the exact criteria for unacceptable speech.

4. l.c., p. 295-301.