In an article in the newspaper the other day (yes, some of us still read those), there was a discussion about how much films have depended on reviews to generate interest. The piece was making the point that box office receipts, in fact the difference between success and failure for newly released motions pictures, was predicated directly on receiving positive reviews. Reviews have had an impact on a lot of things over the years…movies, restaurants, books, and, of course, fermented beverages. But the gist of this article was that, these days, reviews are pretty much a life and death proposition for films.
Is this really news? People are busier and the competition for consumer dollars is fierce. There are so many choices for virtually everything, and consumers, faced with making decisions about entertainment, dining, appliances, etc., like to have someone to turn to for advice more than ever. The critic fills that role and is put in a position of elevated power as a tastemaker these days. It has to be frustrating (to say the least) for a studio to invest millions (tens of millions?, hundreds of millions?) into a picture or TV series only to have the whole thing derailed by a couple of bad reviews. Talk about life on the edge. But while this may be a frightening scenario to Hollywood types, all we in the wine biz can say is, ‘Welcome to our world’.
We have been doing this long enough to remember a time before everything was dictated by reviews. OK, maybe that isn’t entirely true. In olden times, wine scribes would write about wines in newspapers, offer their opinion using (gasp) words! One guy talked about a wine he liked, people would read it, and perhaps go out and try it. But then the paper would go in the recycling bin and eventually those flowery words would be forgotten. Three things changed that had far reaching effects on the power of the review.
First was the review format itself. Rather than occasional pieces and regular columns in a newspaper, or something published in a food-centric magazine that was usually no longer timely when it finally got into print, there were wine specific publications that came out on a regular basis that dealt specifically with wine. The second thing was the familiar 100-point rating system which effectively ranks the wines in some kind of digestible pecking order. People could save the books, magazines, or issues, and refer to them whenever they wanted to find out something. Unfortunately these printed formats did have to be manually gone through when someone needed information.
As it has with so many other things, the internet changed all of that. A wine buyer today can call on databases from a number of different publications 24/7 and has the ‘answer’ (if you want to call it that) right at their fingertips. Consumers have the critic in their pocket, as well as price search tools, and even maps should they actually decide to drive somewhere in the context of wine buying. It has never been easier to get information.
Now there has been plenty of discussion on these pages about how a critical, scored review is like a photo, a picture of a wine at a particular moment in time, within the context of all kinds of variables including bottle development, wine temperature, barometric pressure, the biodynamic calendar, and a whole host of other things, all affecting the showing. Then you have the critic interpreting what they see at that very fluid moment in time and passing judgment on the wine, absolutely and forever. Finally all of this information is encapsulated and expressed in a single number that defines everything, and measures the wine’s value in the marketplace vis-à-vis other choices available to the consumer.
Ultimately that ‘number’ will be the most significant tool in the majority of decisions made about any particular wine by most people. Does that seem fair? Would you like your entire ‘being’ subjectively evaluated based on a single day or couple of days, for all of eternity? Of course not! Yet that is exactly what is happening with wines (and apparently a lot of other things these days) on a regular basis. What is particularly disturbing is that this whole mentality has trickled down to the most peripheral of wine buyers and folks who aren’t particularly ‘dialed in’ on wine ask about rating validation before purchasing.
One supposes it’s easier that way, and someone can merely react to a perceived validation rather than wade through a lot of ‘winespeak’ (buttery minerals, creamy jimmies, blah, blah). Busy people need fast answers, even if those answers don’t necessarily hold up under scrutiny. What does a ‘92’ taste like? Hey, we get it. Though we don’t necessarily embrace it, we’ve learned how to play it. A lazy industry handed the critics the power long ago, and that has been the way of things for three decades. But as things continue to develop, and more would-be reviewers come on line, how is the consumer best served?
It has to be getting more difficult for consumers these days. There are so many reviewers flinging scores out there, and often those numbers get detached from the actual reviewer and exist in a vacuum. We do this every day and we have trouble keeping it all straight! We’ve have gotten to the point (truth be told we have been this way for a long time) where we take nothing at face value. Purveyors interject a score into a conversation without reference, and we ask who it is from. Then we look it up. The ratio of how often we are given the wrong data by suppliers, either cavalierly, ignorantly or with intent to deceive, is appalling.
But even if all of the information is correct and appropriately conveyed (good luck with that part), it is still a rather muddy proposition. It’s a simple fact that big numbers sell wine. You’ll have someone grouse about how a reviewer is too generous with their scoring, yet that same person isn’t likely to buy a $40 Cabernet that ‘only’ got 91 points, even if that is a strong recommendation for the particular critic that gave the score.
The person who makes a $50 Chardonnay is incensed when a critic gives him a ‘90’ even if there are only a couple of other wines that scored higher. The problem isn’t the review in the publication, because no one will see it (most buyers won’t read down that far). It’s that the score will be there for all eternity when people look it up. Is the consumer really served by this? Does a 90-point $10 Chardonnay taste the same as a 90-point $50 example? Is the price taken into account? Critics don’t address those questions, or make any statement about what the ratings mean. So what is the takeaway?
As more reviewers crowd the field, the ‘numbers’ will only go higher. Purveyors and merchants aren’t going to talk about how this or that wine got ‘89s’. In the real world, no one cares or takes the time to calibrate, even if that 89 represents an enthusiastic tout for the particular reviewer. Writers know that, and it is a real balancing act for them to generate reviews that people will quote while at the same time maintaining credibility with subscribers (we presume they think about that stuff).
Why do the writers care about being quoted by the industry? Most of them won’t admit it, but that is their best form of advertising. A review service is, after all, a business that relies on people paying into it. The industry is a big supporter from a research standpoint (we now subscribe to six and very loosely follow a few others). But consumer followers are clearly important, too. Yet as the number of review services expands, we have to wonder how much the influence of each will be diluted. Given that, who will be the ones that people follow (if any, maybe everyone will just read Yelp…ugh)?
The newer ‘services’ seem to generate somewhat higher scores. Are they trying to deliberately get people to pay attention with more ‘quotable’ work (i.e. higher numbers), or are they just more enthusiastic? Who’s to gauge whether it isn’t incrementally more exciting finding a sensational wine under $20 than an icon for the ages? A couple of extra points aren’t hurting anyone if it guides people to cool stuff, right?
At the other end of the spectrum are the reviewers that score conservatively. Respected writers like Stephan Tanzer (Vinous) and Alan Meadows (Burghound) don’t give away points like Halloween candy. So even though they are specialists, and typically deal with pricier goods, their scores don’t seem very thrilling in the big arena with inflated scores being the norm these days. A $300 Grand Cru gets a ‘93’ and a $12 Spanish red gets a ‘92’. How is anyone supposed to make sense out of that, even when both reviews are well intentioned?
Take the California editor for Wine Spectator, James Laube (or ‘Angry Jim’ as we refer to him here). The magazine in general, and he in particular, have seemingly taken on a ‘tough guy’ attitude with respect to scores. One has to wonder how many people are going to be compelled to try anything after reading column after column of 91 point Cabernets with $100+ price tags.
The real question is which ‘camp’ is really serving its readers best in this market with a staggering number of choices and numbers flying everywhere? And where will it go from here?
