I have long been a baseball fan. I was at The SkyDome (now Roger's Centre) watching the Blue Jays win the world series as the games were shown on the Jumbotron back in the early 90s. I was a diehard Yankees fan while living in New York during the "Core Four" years. I now support my San Diego Padres with the same fervor as the most crazed Buffalo Bills fan, always believing their long overdue championship title is just around the corner. My two sons have both played for years, and I do my best to never miss a game, watching as though I am indeed watching the World Series every time. And I'll die on this hill: baseball isn’t boring - it’s the best damn sport out there, no matter what football, soccer, or hockey fans say. Which is why last night's All-Star game had my mind reeling more than usual.

Professional baseball, long plagued by a reputation for being slow, outdated, and out of step with younger audiences, just pulled off one of its boldest — and most effective — moves in decades. The 2025 MLB All-Star Game in Atlanta was more than a sporting event; it was a rebrand in real time. From mic’d-up pitchers to a sudden-death swing-off that capped the night, MLB demonstrated what happens when a legacy brand embraces risk, innovation, and modern storytelling.

“By all qualitative measures, the true winner of the 95th such game in MLB history was the sport itself, which saw a half-decade of pulling itself into the 21st century yield the most entertaining Midsummer Classic of this generation,” declared Chelsea Janes in The Washington Post after last night’s electric game. Imagine a headline like this rocking the wine world? Arguably, wine has been waiting for years for a positive declaration like this. But what it doesn’t understand is that headlines like this don’t just happen. You have to create moments that earn them.

For an industry like wine — equally steeped in tradition as baseball, and equally at risk of irrelevance if it clings too tightly to it — there are big takeaways from last night’s All-Star game.

Baseball didn’t tweak around the edges — it overhauled the experience. A first-ever home run swing-off replaced extra innings, mic’d players gave real-time commentary, and the league leaned into entertainment value over strict tradition. “[Baseball is] fundamentally an entertainment product,” Commissioner Rob Manfred told The Washington Post. “We shouldn’t get caught up in we used to do it this way or used to do it that way.”
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Wine can’t be afraid to break format either. Want to capture new audiences? That might mean live-streamed vineyard challenges, rethinking the structure of a wine tasting, or creating headline-worthy moments designed for shareability.

MLB didn’t rely on nostalgia to carry the show. Instead, it highlighted breakout stars and future-facing tech, like real-time umpire challenges, and completely reimagined how the game is experienced. For an industry often obsessed with vintage, provenance, and “how it’s always been done,” wine could use a similar injection of forward motion.

For wine brands, that might mean letting go of perfection in favor of energy, imperfection, and personality — especially on social platforms.

The All-Star Game wasn’t just a game; it was a week-long cultural event, pulling in celebrities, influencers, and fans who may not even care about stats. It had lifestyle appeal. It was, in a word, fun.
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Wine events can learn from that scope. Instead of the usual walk-around tasting, imagine a three-day regional celebration that blends food, fashion, music, wine, tech, and interactive storytelling. The product should be the anchor, not the entire proposition.

MLB made headlines by selecting flame-throwing rookie Jacob Misiorowski for the All-Star roster - not for his stats, but for his swagger. The decision sparked backlash from some corners of the baseball world, but it also reflected a broader strategy shift. And, while traditionalists scoffed, the league understood something essential: performance matters, but personality drives engagement.

Wine’s bench of talent is stacked. But too often, the most engaging, unconventional, or culturally resonant voices are hidden behind estate facades and tasting notes. We need to do more than talk about the wine — we need to showcase the humans behind it. Give the winemakers, sommeliers, and vineyard managers a platform to show up as themselves: funny, smart, opinionated, flawed. Mic them up. Let them go live. Let them be weird. Let them be seen.

In today’s media landscape, marketability isn’t a dirty word — it’s a differentiator. And just like MLB, wine needs its own Misiorowskis, and Ohtanis, and Tatis Jrs to bring energy, identity, and heat.

The All-Star game's tie-breaking swing-off was exciting precisely because it was new, surprising, and not guaranteed to return. It also felt weirdly spontaneous, especially given some of the game's biggest sluggers had already left the stadium. According to WaPo, "Most players did not even know the rule was in place. Those who did, even those who agreed to participate, never expected it to come into play. But when it did, no one seemed to care that megastars such as Shohei Ohtani and Aaron Judge had long since left the game..." 

It created buzz because it was bold and ephemeral. Wine, on the other hand, tends to canonize its biggest moments until they calcify.

Take a cue from MLB: create compelling, newsworthy moments that don’t rely on repetition or tradition. Be agile. Build excitement, then reinvent again.

If MLB can go from being the sport of dads and dusty scorecards to becoming one of the most talked-about cultural events of the summer, wine can evolve, too. But not without letting go of some of the sacred cows. Because if the All-Star Game taught us anything this year, it’s this: relevance rewards the brave.

And you thought the bickering over the “clean” wine trend was exhausting. But no, the wine industry loves to fight itself, so here we go with the latest cold war: Old school wine crowd has had enough of the new school wine crowd and a Twitter battle ensues. Seriously. Are “real” cosmetic industry writers this upset about beauty influencers demonstrating their morning skincare routine on Tik Tok?
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I’m not entirely sure what spurred the latest round of anti-wine-influencer articles – perhaps the fact that we are all spending a whole lot more time on our devices thanks to COVID restrictions – but something appears to have stoked the coals on the whole “wine influencers aren’t influential” argument, and I am not here for it. 
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While reading James Lawrence’s recent piece in Wine-Searcher.com, “The Incurable Plague of Wine Influencers,” I found myself clenching my jaw. My pulse actually quickened. I even yelled at my husband about it, as though he had somehow played a role.

In his searing critique, Lawrence writes, “More than two million people dead; massive disruption to our lives; job losses and depression – but take heart, the world's influencers have managed to keep snapping.”

But, he has managed to keep writing totally unhelpful, condescending smackdowns of said influencers, has he not? In what way is this better?
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He continues, “Personally, I would have thought that societies living under lockdown would have scant need for their brand of nauseating self-aggrandizement. When you're filing for divorce and claiming unemployment benefits, smug posts about banana daiquiris and Prada surely come as little comfort.” 

​Is reading smug articles like his then supposed to serve as a panacea? Should we do away with all forms of mindless (or mindful) entertainment until the world is a better place? Did no one else binge watch Tiger King during lockdown, or was that just me? ​
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Considering that taking stylized bottle and vineyard shots is how some influencers actually earn their living – or at least their wine money (the spending of which helps the wine industry) – these posts may very well be keeping them from having to file for unemployment.
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Let’s take it one step further. If an influencer, with their eye-catching bottle shot, gets one person to head to a winery’s website to make a purchase, or follow a winery’s account on social media, or make a mental note to visit when things open back up, is that influencer not doing more for the business of wine – which has been hit pretty hard thanks to lockdown orders, as we all well know – than Lawrence is in criticizing them for taking selfies? At the very least their feed isn’t clogged with static posts talking about how terrible and useless “real” wine writers are. 

​This isn’t a zero-sum game. It’s possible for some wine enthusiasts to exist in their grouchy and judgmental wine world, while social media stars exist in their aspirational, technicolor fantasy land, without the planet self-destructing, I promise. Both will have their fans. They may even get along if we let them.
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Wine writer Tom Wark’s response piece, “Stalin, the Khmer Rouge and Wine Influencers” was somewhat gentler, and certainly far more helpful. He offers practical advice for brands considering working with influencers, equating a social media post to a form of advertising. But there is still a whiff of disdain as he observes, “Most wine writers attempt to tell a genuine story. Wine Influencers attempt to find the right light.” I suppose it depends on what sort of story the consumer wants to read. I know plenty of wine lovers who spend a pretty penny on their annual wine consumption who would rather get a root canal than read certain high profile wine journals cover to cover. 

​​And, let’s be real – many people purchase wines based on interesting or striking labels, so something can still have value – and tell a story – just by virtue of being nice to look at.
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To this day, I still struggle to fully understand what the anti-influencer crowd is so up in arms about. Is it that they are worried influencers are threatening their jobs, or their place among wine consumers? The very integrity of wine itself? I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again for those in the back: Let’s please remember that wine – while certainly worthy of in-depth discussion and analysis – is ultimately a product consumed by the majority of wine consumers for pleasure. I’m not sure writing condescending, dismissive, arrogant pieces against social media influencers seeking to promote it is helping the U.S. wine market’s cause.
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Ranting to my husband aside, I’ve tried to examine why these rages against influencers make me so upset, and I think it comes down to three things: 

First, the level of vitriol in some of the anti-influencer rhetoric hints at the ongoing sexism within the wine industry. The wine influencers that tend to be referenced in these pieces are indeed female, and it feels like their work – again, as hard as it is for some people to believe, this is how many of the best of them make a living – is being undermined by men. The narrative also often fails to recognize the breadth and diversity of wine influencers out there, lumping the educational in with the irreverent, and the irreverent in with the aspirational-lifestyle-driven… and ultimately dismissing them all. 

Secondly, once again, the old guard of the wine industry is stubbornly refusing to meet consumers where they are. I watched a session at the recent Direct to Consumer Wine Symposium led by brilliant industry veteran Brian Baker in which he asked consumer panelists how they felt about wine ratings and where they got their wine information. Most said scores didn’t influence their wine-buying decisions. One panelist specifically referenced looking on social media for wine recommendations. She even mentioned gravitating to – gasp! – Cameron Diaz’s new wine brand (and the industry’s punching bag du jour) “Avaline” because of how engaging the content promoting it on social media was. Granted this was a small sample size, but it doesn’t take a statistician to take one look at the past few state of the industry reports and realize more needs to be done to capture and engage new and younger wine audiences.  ​

And, lastly, the criticism isn’t solutions-oriented. These missives never feel inclusive and helpful, nor do they give the supposed offenders a chance to do better. These articles just feel like a worse form of preaching to the choir – whining to people who look and sound like you, and already agree with you. 

One day, when social media influencers have been eclipsed by the next shiny new thing, I hope they will have the adaptability to prolong their relevance to the industry… or at the very least the class to support others who are trying to keep wine flowing into glasses. That’s what we’re all here for, right? ​

​A few months ago, I admittedly got a bit disenchanted with wine influencers as well, based on a few negative experiences working with them, and almost did an online rant of my own.
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However, in reflecting on this disenchantment, I don’t think I was mad at the institution of the influencer, but merely the lack of professionalism of a few individuals who also happened to be influencers. As a business owner, a freelance writer, and PR and marketing professional, I have experienced the same frustrations working with journalists, partners, vendors and beyond, so the bad behavior isn’t unique to the well-lit selfie set.  But, this piece is about influencers so, in the spirit of solutions-based writing, I would like to offer influencers a few tips on how to work best with brands and PR firms, and hopefully stave off some of this criticism from the other side… that is, if they even care to.
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You’d think some White-Claw-Drinking “influencer” had just come out with a Hitler-themed wine brand with the amount of hate pieces that cropped up after Cameron Diaz & Katherine Power launched their new “clean” wine brand, Avaline. I don’t think I’ve seen this level of vitriol since the Court of Master Sommeliers scandal.
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From Vinography’s “Clean Wine is a Commercial Scam” to The Guardian’s “The Goopification of wine: why ‘clean wine’ is a scam,” and the widespread supportive sharing of these pieces among the wine industry’s own set of A-listers, it’s clear that people are ANGRY.

​But WHY?
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Vinography points out that, “Avaline wines are actually just commercially produced organic wines that have several more additives than many small-production winemakers would consider using.” While this may be true, then why aren’t these small production winemakers banging the gong about their wines? Why are we mad at the ones who saw the marketing opportunity and ran with it, instead of ourselves for not perceiving the potential threat and preempting it, like any good business would?

Should we not be asking why the wine industry itself isn’t taking every opportunity possible to fight back against other competitors in the beverage space, and capture the hearts and minds of new wine drinkers, by educating the public about why and how wine in general is the ultimate natural beverage? But then this is the very thing wrong with the wine industry. We would rather dig in on our traditions and pride than actually get out of our comfort zone and innovate. 
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​Clean wines are derided as nothing more than marketing gimmicks aimed at the “wellness obsessed,” at least so says a well-known wine journalist whom I respect and admire. But I find myself asking, so what? What do you think slapping an augmented reality label on the bottle and partnering with Snoop Dogg is? What do you think Jean-Charles Boisset’s ambassador program is? Is anyone outraged by House Wine partnering with Cheez-Its for the ultimate wine/snack duo?  Actually, don’t answer that.
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I count myself as someone who is wellness…focused. I work out between five and seven days per week. I try my best to eat well, opting for whole grains, fruits and vegetables, and lean protein where possible, but also not shying away from fried chicken, bacon, chocolate, and the occasional fast food indulgence. And I have also dedicated the last 15 years of my life to the study of wine. I take some offense to being dismissed as someone who can’t possibly be serious about wine if I am also serious about taking care of my physical and mental health. I have been very outspoken about the culture of over-consumption and risky behaviors that pervade the wine industry, regularly questioning if we drink too much in this drinks business. To see any brand – whether they’ve earned their stripes or not – bringing to market a product that at least starts to address themes of wellness and transparency is encouraging.

Let’s also not forget that the wine industry created this problem to begin with. By not requiring wines to have ingredients labels on them – regardless of which side of the aisle you’re on when it comes to that battle – our very industry set up a status quo that practically rolled out the red carpet for enterprising winemakers and marketers to fill a need on behalf of consumers asking these questions.
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And, by not making the effort to educate consumers on why ingredients labeling on wine may or may not be necessary, we have added fuel to this fire. Imagine if the wine industry had actually come together for once to create an entertaining and inclusive large-scale educational campaign to explain, in layman’s terms, things like how many of the additives allowed in wine are often precipitated out and thus no longer really “in” the wine as an ingredient. What if we had taken real steps to show fearful consumers that “Mega Purple” – which may sound horrifying and possibly chemical to the likes of Power and Diaz – is simply super concentrated, high sugar grape juice, even if you as a winemaker choose not to use it? We have missed a huge opportunity here to engage the consumer, and, in the meantime, other entrepreneurs got there first, and actually met inquiring and aspiring wine drinkers where they are.
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The way I see it, if brands like Avaline, FitVine, Dry Farm Wines, or Scout & Cellar get Chad from the gym who benches 350 lbs, carries around one of those plastic gallon jugs of water wherever he goes, and usually only drinks Michelob Ultra with his other bro-y dudes to check out the wine space, everyone wins. If it gets hipster Sienna who prefers hard Kombucha, single-origin pour-over coffee, and CBD to give the wines a taste, everyone wins. Isn’t the goal to expand the wine market, not shrink it out of exclusivity?
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I just browsed through a fascinating twitter thread kicked off by VinePair’s Erica Duecy, who asked her network “What is the biggest threat facing the wine industry right now?” So many sharp minds in the biz weighed in, listing things like “Baby Boomer attrition” and “Lack of speed/interest to adapt,” and ”Apathy…on the part of producers who believe (and are encouraged to believe by some media) that they have the right to exist w/o changing”. Jacqueline Coleman’s observations were particularly spot on. She cites “An inability to accept curious consumers who aren’t ‘experts’” as one of the biggest threats right now, noting that, “The industry in general is still very stuck in its ways, & losing potential newbies fast by being judgmental & cranky about every new thing.” PREACH, sister. 

So WHY are we still seeing hate pieces about every new brand that comes out with something offbeat or, dare I say it, gimmicky? I saw at least one of Erica’s respondents share one of the anti-clean wine stories. It’s belittling to consumers who may be branching out into wine for the first time, as well as to long-time wine lovers who want to try something different, lapel pin or not. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, I say.
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Wunderkind sommelier Victoria James made some brilliant points in her piece for Esquire, “Celebrities Could be Making Good Wine. Instead, They’re Making Bad Wine for Good Money.” Her articulate push for celebrities to use their influence for more meaningful pursuits in climate change, social and racial justice, and politics, when creating their wine brand made me openly swoon.
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She also observed that wine, “Can express a taste of terroir, a somewhat mystical term that describes a sense of a place. The simplicity of this notion is what makes it so sacred.” Perhaps this is where she and I diverge. While I agree with her wholeheartedly on the beauty of the history, traditions, climate, and agriculture that make up a spectacular wine, I believe wine’s sacredness as a whole lies in so many other things: namely, that it is a product of pleasure that has the power to bring people together, and provide a social lubricant that enables conversation, intimacy, and moments of joy.  
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She goes on to note that the wines that celebrities lend their names to, “Seem to avoid exploring this idea of terroir [Don’t tell Alecia Moore/AKA Pink!], and instead fall prey to marketing teams who favor the lifestyle categories of wellness and luxury, as viticulture and vinification methods take a back seat.”  
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I suppose I would ask… but what is wrong with this? Does being a celebrity who wants to create a wine brand necessitate speaking of terroir in order to appeal to the consumer? I have personally watched people glaze over during wine events I have hosted for everyday consumers when I start waxing poetic about this exposition or that soil type. Some of the biggest wine brands out there, regardless of how you feel about them, wouldn’t know terroir if it goosed them at a party. And that’s not a bad thing. Can we not have the Chateau Margauxs and Screaming Eagles and Quintarellis – and celebrate everything extraordinary about those wines – but also have the other stuff too? The stuff for those who just want a glass of something that aligns with their needs, wants and aspirations, whatever, whenever, and why-ever those might be? Context is everything in life and in wine.
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Let the terroirists have their dirt and drink it too. But let everyone else who just wants to drink some wine with some friends do so without feeling like they are getting it wrong, even if it’s a bottle of Skinnygirl Pinot Grigio. If this industry is ever going to survive, we are all going to need to be able to play in the same sandbox (sandy loam box?). Who knows, we may even learn a thing about sharing – or terroir – while we’re at it. 

I just got back from this year's Unified Wine & Grape Symposium, North America's largest industry expo and trade show. I have been going for a few years now, and I always come home feeling energized and excited about the industry I have been a part of for nearly twenty years. 

However, this year, I left feeling a little bit, well, sad. 

It may have been the fact that the temporary relocation of the event to Cal Expo -- presumably an amazing place during the California State Fair, for which the venue is intended, but not ideal for this particular event -- made this year's Symposium feel disjointed and cold (literally and figuratively). Sessions were sparsely attended and, at least for me, the magical sense of community I normally feel at this event just wasn't there. This was perhaps a result of the sheer magnitude of Cal Expo -- walking between sessions felt like trekking across a massive college campus to your next class. But I'm worried it was also because of something else... something that I'm hoping to put into words here...

I left last year's Symposium worried for our industry, but also excited about the opportunities ahead. I reported on my key learning (singular) last year with a simple warning: Adapt or die. 

There felt like the beginnings of some momentum. Many nodded their virtual heads in agreement. The mirror was held up to us during the many 2019 breakout sessions and keynote addresses. We observed, took note, welcomed advice. We had our marching orders and were sent away to execute.

And yet we didn't. 

This year, more than once, I found myself swearing I had seen that exact same presentation slide last year. The one about millennials being important, and the wine industry needing to figure out how to communicate with and to them. The one about alcoholic beverages moving into new occasions and how we need to meet consumers where they are -- movie theaters, axe throwing, the beach... The one about new packaging. The one about how important experiences are. The one about the next creeping competitor -- last year it was cannabis; this year it was White Claw. We heard again this year about transparency and authenticity and labeling. About how critical it is that we figure out how to deliver better, faster and more engaging direct-to-consumer capabilities. It's not that we aren't doing any of it. It's that this should all by now be automatic to us as an industry keeping up, not revelations worth re-reporting. ​

While I was delighted that a few speakers dug deeper on themes of health and wellness, and urged our industry to take wine back as the original natural beverage -- a brilliant take on and response to the unnerving sober curious movement -- and an emphasis on using the data that is already there for us to do better, smarter, more consumer-focused business, there was little else that felt new. Perhaps I was being naive, but I truly believed after last year's wake-up call that we would have all been spending this Symposium celebrating the incredible moves we had made in 2019. How we had started to take some steps to move back into a leadership position in the world of alcoholic beverages. Created our own White Claw juggernaut. 

Instead, it always feels like we are playing catch-up. Defense. Reacting to the industry and competitive sectors, but no longer setting the standard ourselves. Since we grabbed onto the French Paradox all those years ago and ran with it, we have languished. And that paradox can no longer carry us alone. 

I don't blame any of the speakers or panelists. The sessions I sat in on were polished, well-presented and engaging, and I left with plenty of ideas and inspiration. I blame us collectively -- myself included -- for going home last year and falling back into the predictability of business as usual, and for maybe being tempted to do so again this year. There are some out there setting the pace and pushing the boundaries of what this industry is capable of. But there are too many of us waiting for others to take the lead, hoping we can get on the bandwagon when the time feels safer to do so.  

As a PR professional, a marketer, and a writer in this industry, I pitch and engage with hundreds of stakeholders at various levels all year. I had the immense joy of creating a few "transformational" proposals for new business to potential clients this past year -- clients who were specifically looking for something out of the box -- all of which were, sadly, turned down. "We're just not ready... maybe in 2021," I heard. Perhaps I'm not the one to execute on these wild concepts. But it seems like no one else is either. Instead, the majority of us stay where we are comfortable -- with our vineyard shots, and our yawn-inducing tasting notes, and our walk-around wine events. Again, we are talking to one another, instead of the world of consumers out there that we need to either win over, or keep in our corner. 

And so I am putting this out there to all of you wine misfits and visionaries: If you want to do something different, let's talk. This isn't a business pitch; it's a plea to collectively think outside the box. Get uncomfortable. Take some risks. Solve some problems. No one individual or brand can do it alone, but I suspect a few of us can make a dent. Let's sit with a glass of wine and figure out how we can spend next year's Symposium celebrating the great comeback story of the wine industry. 

In fairness, I work in the adult beverage industry, and my livelihood largely depends on the purchase and promotion of alcohol -- wine specifically.  However, I have been quite outspoken about the pressures of alcohol consumption that plague this business. I am also no stranger to alcoholism. It has impacted many in my family in painful and destructive ways. 

This piece isn't for them, and it's not for those who truly are at a crossroads, wondering if their drinking is becoming a problem. It's not even for those who just want to take a break from drinking or are, in fact, sober curious. I believe in self awareness and going through life with eyes wide open, and this of course applies to one's relationships -- be they to food, beverage, ideas, jobs or people. I have helped others navigate their sobriety, participated in family rehab, held interventions, and seen the worst of what alcoholism can bring, and I believe in the need for greater resources and tools for those struggling with addiction. I will continue to scrutinize not just those close to me, but the alcohol business itself, to look for real signs of danger, exploring real tools for addressing the issues. 

My frustration is that it is starting to feel like the media and messaging surrounding the sober curious movement is suggesting that we are all at that crossroads. And, even if we don't think we are, there is this gentle nudge for us to take a long, hard look at our "unhealthy" habit of alcohol consumption. I have friends who are moderate drinkers suddenly starting to over-analyze whether or not to have a glass of wine at dinner. While I think a good gut check is never a bad idea, there is a new paranoia that has crept in. Never underestimate the power of suggestion -- especially when it's in the name of wellness. 

The messaging at times feels crusading and laced with judgement. I will not do Dry January, and I am not sober curious, but I am also not a train-wreck who wakes up feeling ashamed or unproductive every day, as some of the rhetoric might suggest. I, too, spent January 1st without a hangover, although I did enjoy a phenomenal bottle of Grower Champagne the night before. Much like the message in this post isn't for those on the extreme ends of the spectrum, perhaps the sober curious aren't talking to me either, but for some reason I can't help but feel lumped in. When I read things like, "Choosing not to imbibe is the ultimate health choice one can make," blasted to a social media audience in the tens of thousands, I wonder if that's not unfairly demonizing something or someone. 

I resent the shaming of the "wine mom." I am a mom. I love wine. And I love to drink wine with other moms. And yes, at times this happens before noon and is a momentary escape, about which we bond and laugh. There was a time in history when alcohol was used to numb the pain of a tooth extraction. Why can this not apply to the experience of potty training a defiant toddler, which makes a drug-free tooth extraction seem like a walk in the part by comparison? The jokes we share surrounding "Thank God for Wine" moments don't define our relationship as women and fellow mothers, nor do they necessarily signal a problematic relationship with alcohol or an inability to parent without anesthesia. 

I follow some sober-curious-themed social media accounts and, in writing about the benefits of mindful drinking over teetotaling, have done my share of research about the movement. My WSET Diploma case study exam was about the growth of the low- and no-alcohol business. There are brilliant voices on the mindful drinking side of the aisle encouraging us to return to viewing wine as part of a pleasurable lifestyle, and a ritual in self-care itself. Perhaps these are the beginnings of the pendulum swinging the other way and I hope this is the case. In the meantime, these voices seem to be muted and a little bit nervous, as my own is right now. 

For every study outlining the benefits of moderate alcohol consumption, five others appear about how terrible it is for us. And yet, to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure there is a study out there that could convince me to put down my glass of wine. Does this make me an addict? A skeptic? Or someone who just weighs the risks in life against the potential pleasures and makes a decision, in the same way I decide to get into my car each day, drink a cup or two of coffee, wear deodorant, cook with butter, cut with sharp knives and travel via airplane. I'm not even sure the decision is an entirely informed one -- how can it be when the science is ever-changing and someone keeps moving the goal post? 

Because something is difficult to give up does not somehow by definition make it an addiction or even a problematic behavior. There are plenty of benign habits and even wellness-focused acts -- exercise, eating, sex, cleaning, you name it -- that, when they cross over into the extreme, are no longer healthy. But that crossover is hopefully the exception, not the norm. 

There is an entire world of people out there for whom alcohol is one of life's enjoyments; who would genuinely have a hard time giving it up -- not because they have an unhealthy relationship with it, but because it is part of their lifestyle. I don't believe this means they are flirting with addiction. I simply think it means that, like many other things in our lives, this small, daily, weekly, or monthly pleasure is a non-negotiable. And, as the wine business struggles to keep up and compete, I personally want to know that this world of people isn't being overlooked, or, worse, shamed. I see you and I am one of you. This piece is for you.

Wine is still one of life's smallest and greatest pleasures to me -- its mindful consumption an act of self-care and happiness, which, I would argue, go hand in hand with health. No study or campaign is going to change that. 

It’s an ad for Bud Light. Not a small-production craft beer, which one might expect to tout this sort of credential. But for “America’s favorite light lager,” the stuff of college parties and tailgating. The beer giant also put out a press release announcing the move. In the months following, a heated debate about what should and shouldn't be included in the labels of our favorite adult beverages has been brewing (pardon the pun). ​

​Ingredients labeling has become the norm in the food industry because it’s required by the FDA. However, to date, the adult beverage industry does not require ingredients to be listed or nutritional information outlined on labels unless a specific health claim is being made such as “low carb” or “low calorie.” In fact, current law allows for a laundry list of additives -- some of which sound, well, distinctly chemical, that can be used but don't need to be included on the label. While we are seeing the occasional brand volunteer these details, there are no current regulations requiring alcohol brands to go beyond the basics on their labels. ​

​Amanda Thomson, Founder and CEO of Thomson and Scott, makers of a line of low-sugar, vegan sparkling wines, is outspoken on the issue of transparency in wine labeling, pressing the wine industry to introduce stricter rules and regulations on this front. “We all want to know what’s in our food. Why aren’t we asking what’s in our wine?” ​
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While wineries like Ridge Vineyards and brands like Atlas Wine Co. are making a point to list ingredients on their labels – Ridge Vineyards’ 2016 Paso Robles Zinfandel boasts nothing but “Hand-harvested grapes; indigenous yeasts; naturally occurring malolactic bacteria; oak from barrel aging; minimum effective SO2” on its back label – others don’t feel it’s a necessary or particularly good thing for the industry.

​Fellow Temecula Valley winemaker Olivia Bue of Robert Renzoni Vineyards agrees with McPherson. “There are a few additions we do add, such as bentonite, for fining and clarifying purposes prior to bottling,” she says. “It’s important for consumers to understand that many additions are designed to bind with an oppositely charged organic compound in wine, then drop or precipitate to the bottom of the tank to be left behind after racking. In other words, they leave behind no traces of material.”

​For those winemakers going beyond basic fining, filtration and stabilizing agents, and adding things designed to enhance the flavor, color or sweetness of a wine, it’s understandable why a winemaker may not want the industry to push for label reform, for fear these tactics are painted as “cheating.” But many wholesalers and retailers see transparency as a powerful selling tool. ​

​According to a 2018 article published in the Washington Post, several studies have shown that nutritional information posted on restaurant menus has little impact on consumers’ actual caloric intake. Some dieticians have even suggested that posting this information can have a triggering effect for those suffering from eating disorders. However, the Post points out that, aside from encouraging consumers to eat better, menu labeling laws are also aimed at getting food producers to make lower-calorie products, and that they may be succeeding in at least this piece of the goal.  Whether or not consumer behavior follows the same patterns when it comes to alcohol remains to be seen, but if labeling laws encourage winemakers to produce the cleanest, least-manipulated and sustainable products possible, one could argue in favor of the practice, regardless of its impact on actual consumer behavior.
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Roger Bohmrich is a New York-based Master of Wine – one of the first Americans to earn this prestigious title. He, too, sees the danger of too much transparency. “The mostly unjustified concerns about sulfites show the unintended consequences of ‘tell-all’ labeling,” he says. But he does see value in this movement toward transparency in the pressure it puts on wineries to employ sustainable or organic practices in the vineyard.

“The larger question centers on the vineyard and the chemicals that might be employed, as with any agricultural crop. It's virtually impossible to avoid chemicals entirely, simply because they may be present in the groundwater itself. I am very much in favor of organically or biodynamically grown grapes, where that is economically feasible, and those approaches are slowly communicating added value to wine drinkers. For most wines, on the other hand, I'm afraid we have to live with trace additives, as we do with apples, peanut butter, or bread.” 

At the end of the day, it’s tough to argue against transparency for the consumer, especially if it encourages an increase in quality products. However, the real question surrounds what defines transparency, and what its limits should be.

“Does [greater transparency] de-romance the wine aisle? Perhaps,” says Stewart. “Would I drink less wine? Probably not. Would I change which wines I purchased based on these labels, but still stay in the wine aisle? Probably!”

Notes McPherson, “None of the added ingredients go beyond a brief interlude and then are dispatched via settling or filtration. Or, we are simply augmenting what is already there. Tannins are already present. Sulfites occur naturally as a yeast by-product, and we just boost their presence so that the wine will be shelf stable longer. What did I add that wasn’t already there? If it isn’t detected was it really ever there?”

Deep.

This debate is only going to intensify as more and more big brands like Bud Light put a stake in the ground on the matter. But it’s probably best to pour ourselves a glass or two before pondering these sorts of heavy, existential questions any further.

1. The Spittoon

First of all, if you are a winery and you don’t offer your guests a spit cup or easily accessible dump-bucket, you are contributing to the perception that going wine tasting is all about getting a buzz. I’ve seen plenty of guests standing around awkwardly as their friends are getting a taste of the next wine in a lineup, trying to figure out what to do with the remaining ounces in their glass. Most of the time they just knock it back, sometimes with the same facial expression they might make taking a shot of Jose Cuervo. Not everyone wants to finish every drop of wine — it’s nothing personal — so it’s important to make them feel encouraged to spit or dump.
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2. The Education

​While those in the biz love to wax poetic about véraison and malo-lactic fermentation, the average consumer glazes over during the “education” phase of a wine tasting, wondering when the next pour is happening, or if there are going to be any of those weirdly satisfying wine crackers coming up. What are you doing to make this experience exciting for your guests?
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3. The Guided Tasting

​Seated, guided tastings are an important offering at any winery, but it’s important to go beyond simply pouring six tastes of wine and going through the motions. I will never forget a guided tasting I did while living in Italy, at Castello di Fonterutoli in Tuscany. We sat down to six pre-poured tastes of Sangiovese from different plots within the same vineyard, to experience the incredible difference a small change in exposure, soil and unique microclimate can make.

Baily Winery in Temecula Valley offers an eye-opening vertical tasting of five to six vintages of their Meritage or Cabernet Franc to demonstrate the remarkable consistency and age-worthiness of their wines. This also serves as a platform to discuss the impact of climate on a given vintage, not to mention the winemaking techniques used as a result.
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I’m about to say something that could make me very unpopular among my colleagues.
Do we really need to drink so much in this drinks business?

Hear me out. Ask anyone who knows me how I feel about the consumption of alcohol — specifically wine — and they will likely describe me as an enthusiastic imbiber. No matter the time of day, I rarely turn down a tipple. In fact, I often can’t remember the last time I literally had ZERO alcohol in my day. My evenings and sometimes days include wine, as I do firmly believe in wine’s rightful place during a meal…and while preparing said meal… and of course while patting one’s full belly while reclining on the couch after said meal…and…and…

But, the more I have been thinking about the balance between the industry I am so passionate about — wine — and my other area of interest — wellness — I find myself wondering what responsibility we have as wine (or beer, or spirits) professionals to drink better.

What do I mean by this?

I asked a few of my wine journalist friends if this was the expectation during media trips, and they all replied with a straightforward, “Pretty much.”

Wine sales trips are even more intense. And, as usually one of the only women at the table, it feels virtually impossible to not “keep up with the guys,” lest my gender create even more hurdles for me in this already male-dominated industry.

I was recently asked to book the Saturday morning flight instead of the last Friday evening flight because there was an understanding that we would be out late enjoying cocktails with our client. It often feels like a game of chicken, and I feel tempted to ask if anyone else is tired and ready to call it a night? But of course I don’t want to be the ultimate buzzkill, and the times I have started to hem and haw about going to another drinking establishment at 11 PM, my protests are met with the usual teasing and cajoling about not being lame.
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I want to challenge my colleagues in this industry to think a bit more critically about this culture of excess. By no means am I suggesting we do away with doing business this way, or blowing off steam with our colleagues a little bit later or a little bit more enthusiastically than we should while on work trips. But let’s please stop pretending that this is a crucial part of the sales or business development process.

I realize I am not completely innocent here. It is up to me — and anyone else who may feel this way — to (wo)man up and politely decline the night caps, holding our ground when pressed. Hopefully the more we collectively begin to embrace a life in the adult beverage industry that also stresses the importance of wellness, we will feel more supported in our decision to do so.

And, let’s start looking at ways to offset these rituals — for example, introducing wellness-focused activities, healthy meal options and allocated time for exercise into team-building and work travel. As leaders in our industry, it is our responsibility to champion a better balance here, and encourage moderation as the key to proper enjoyment of the products we are marketing and selling. I applaud the companies and professionals who have started to engage in this space and look forward to their continued communications and leadership.

And maybe, just maybe, we can do away with the dawn-patrol meeting start times after these late nights as well. I may not need to sleep it off, but I would definitely appreciate the extra time for a morning run or yoga session to set the tone before the wine.

How do you balance drinking for work?