When you hold a glass of wine in your hand, you’re actually gazing into the noble grape’s important role in world history. “Wine was the foremost of luxuries to millennia of mankind,” Hugh Johnson wrote in Story of Wine, and was its “one source of comfort and courage, his only medicine and antiseptic.” Wine has been a source of wealth, social status, free enterprise, trade, liquid currency, and a valuable commodity during times of war.
Another war over wine is currently being fought, but this one is different from the others. It’s related to the fierce competition between domestic and international winemakers. There are more wineries situated in different countries than ever before. The choices between everything from private stock to cost-cutting varieties of plonk are endless. Globalization has either become the most valuable or regrettable component in this sobering battle for wine supremacy.
Mike Veseth examines this brave new world of grapish libations in Wine Wars II: The Global Battle for the Soul of Wine. The author, a professor emeritus of international political economy at the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, Washington, is well suited to discuss this subject. He’s run the Wine Economist for years, which was named “Best in the World” wine blog by Gourmand International in 2015. He’s also written several books on wine and global economics, including Globaloney: Unraveling the Myths of Globalization, Wine Wars: The Curse of the Blue Nun, the Miracle of Two Buck Chuck and the Revenge of the Terroirists, and Around the World in 80 Wines.
Veseth weaves an intriguing tale of history, politics, philosophy, personal observations, trade, and economics in one thin albeit entertaining volume. He clearly enjoys using a humorous, wine-related play on words such as “Da Vino Code” and “War on Terroir.” (Terroir is the French word for the idea that certain places’ coil is just ineffably better suited for the growing of the vine.) He even finds subtle ways to incorporate prominent people such as Albert Einstein, Barack Obama, Joseph Schumpeter, and Adam Smith and fictional characters such as Secret Squirrel, Pogo, Charlie Brown, and Asterix the Gaul into his general conversation.
Globalization is “quite literally redrawing the wine world map,” Veseth wrote, “pushing it out from the Old World, where most of the earth’s wine is still produced, to many New Worlds, where both production and consumption are on the rise.” While many countries remain partial to the consumption of domestic brands, the International Organization of Vine and Wine, which is depicted as a “sort of United Nations of the wine world,” noted that 45% of today’s wine crosses at least one international border. This surge in international brands has led to an increase in “Two-Buck Chuck” bottles of inexpensive vino that Trader Joe’s and other stores specialize in. This has helped turn off the “terroirists,” whom he depicts as people that “seek to preserve and protect an idea of wine that is more natural, more connected to the earth, more deeply embedded in culture.”
The wine wars aren’t solely limited to Old World vs. New World. Veseth believes wine is suffering through an “identity crisis” and that the “biggest threat to wine’s identity is something inherent to wine’s existence: alcohol.”
What does he mean, exactly? While most people believe wine is “just grape juice with alcohol,” it actually doesn’t “taste much like the grapes it is made from except for in a few specific cases.” Rather, it’s the fermentation process that transforms the product into what we know as wine, which he believes is under attack due to a rise in “anti alcohol forces.” In Veseth’s view, “it seems like those who see wine as a social or health problem, not an essential element in our culture, have seized the momentum. If wine doesn’t know who it is and what it is and cannot tell its story to the world, then how can it survive?”
The battle lines in the wine wars are rather complex, it seems.
Veseth analyzes how different wine-producing countries have used the global economy to their distinct advantage. The New Zealand wine industry, for instance, is “remarkably globalized,” has become a prime destination for “flying winemakers,” and has grown in stature due to the influence of British missionaries, Canadian investors, and California-based consultants. Britain’s wine industry has grown in leaps and bounds due to large supermarkets such as Sainsbury’s, Waitrose, and Tesco, the latter of which arranges contracts with wineries to sell products under its own private label. The growth of Two-Buck Chuck varieties can be attributed to winemakers like Ernest Gallo as well as Philip Wagner, a Baltimore-based journalist, viticulturist, and winemaker who believed wine “should be an affordable part of ordinary life and a constant companion at mealtime.”
Branding is another means of achieving success in the wine wars. Blue Nun, Mouton Cadet, and the sauvignon blanc grape grown in New Zealand’s Marlborough wine region have all become household names. There’s also Australia’s Yellow Tail brand, which was the bestselling imported wine in the United States for several years. Not because it was the best tasting but rather due to the realization that making wine “without tannin and acid could be very appealing, especially to the majority of Americans who don’t really like wine or at least don’t drink it very often.” Once Brand Australia was firmly established in America, however, this upward trajectory began to slide gradually to the point where countries like China displaced them. Which is how the free market and competition are supposed to operate, after all.
Trade is part of the global economic formula for wine, too. New Zealand and Chile “embrace globalization as part of a system of liberal market reforms” and have watched their market share expand. Argentina enthusiastically exported to the U.S. and Great Britain, and its wines are now often found in our homes. South Africa’s old, established wine industry survived through boom and bust periods, and limited global access during apartheid, and has become popular over time. Bilateral trade agreements have also included wine products in recent decades, while China’s decision to impose high tariffs on U.S. wine during Donald Trump’s presidency effectively crushed a large export market and sizable profits for wineries like a barrel of ripe grapes.
When it comes to wine-oriented globalization, it’s probably fair to say Veseth isn’t always drunk with enthusiasm.
The author noted in one chapter that France remains “suspicious” of globalization, in spite of the fact it, like other countries, is “simultaneously pulled by its opulent appeal and appalled by its frightening, disruptive potential — just like the rest of us.” That’s not how many people view the rise of the global economy for wine or anything else, truth be told. Then again, he is clearly more on the side of the “thoughtful terroirists.” If you believe winemaking and wine production have certain elements of history and tradition that need to be preserved and protected, and bottles of wine should be enjoyed and savored in the company of good food, family, and friends, then his rationale is at least partially understandable.
Incorporating some of the strategic knowledge from the mind of late defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld, Veseth depicts globalization as a “known unknown.” It’s unclear whether the “global markets’ receding tide as trade barriers appear will be an enduring trend or not.” There are additional wild cards, such as the closing of bars and restaurants during the coronavirus pandemic, climate change, and the cork industry, that could also play a role in determining winners, losers, and even a few winers…err, whiners.
Veseth’s intriguing book and his “grape expectations” have therefore provided some important insights and research about the wine wars, and the future of wine, without leaving any sediment at the bottom of your empty glass.
Michael Taube, a columnist for Troy Media and Loonie Politics, was a speechwriter for former Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper.
