I really enjoyed listening to
Jessica Kogan tell her story about how she and her husband founded Cameron
Hughes. I found it interesting to learn about their business model and the
secondary market for wine, where people can come buy ready-made wine and
re-bottle it under another name. One thing that really stuck out to me was the
idea of key-man risk in this business. According to Jessica, the eponymous
brand would not exist were it not for Cameron’s special palate, which allowed
them to identify incredible wines and develop a brand that people associate
with quality. What happens when Cameron dies? Is he still so critical to the
business today, or do the existing relationships with wineries maintain the
brand’s high quality into the future? My gut tells me that with good business relationships,
Cameron Hughes (the brand) could find someone with a good enough palate to keep the business going strong. But where is the
line between good enough and great?
In an even
more explicit point than Cameron Hughes, the idea of key-man risk keeps
bringing me back to Robert Parker, the arbiter of taste. I remember reading a
book on wine several years ago, where the author’s thesis was this: just
because Robert Parker prefers his wines a certain way does not mean that everyone should like them a certain
way. Why then does the industry continue
to depend upon his rating to determine the grade of a wine? There’s a certain
“emperor has new clothes” aspect to this dynamic that gives me pause. Is he really
wearing clothes, or are people just not telling him that he is wrong?
It is hard for me to think of other
industries where so much power rests in the hands of single individuals. In fashion, there are a lot of prolific designers, but they seem to share power in a way that Robert Parker shares with no one else. In business – for the most part – even the most powerful
managers share responsibility to those below them. Why has the wine industry developed
in such a way that the rest of us yield our taste preferences to people with a biologically
different palate than we have? As for me, I’ll continue to drink what tastes good
to me, thank you very much.
Thanks for sharing this post! Lately I've been thinking a lot about how one of the things many people in the wine industry tell me is that there is no wrong answer when it comes to tasting wine. Someone can taste plums and cherries in the same wine that someone else tastes citrus and it really doesn’t matter if you like cheap wines or fine wines – it’s just want you taste and what you like. I’ve also pondered subjectivity vs. objectivity in wine – is there really an objectively good wine?
ReplyDeleteOne of the more interesting articles I read recently talked about philosophy professor Barry Smith at the University of London, who mentioned that there are right and wrong answers when it comes to wine. He likens wine to music, and says that someone who thinks an unsophisticated wine is better than a complex wine is simply wrong, just like someone who says Barry Manilow is a better musician than Bach is wrong. His argument is that even though some people may like Barry Manilow better, there’s something that makes Bach a superior as a composer and musician.
I’m not sure I know what I believe but I’m definitely in your camp on this one – I’ll drink what I think is good!