The etiquette and politics of whisky write-ups and reviews

Reader discretion advised:  Rant incoming, partially triggered by a whisky producer who didn’t take kindly to some feedback I gave them about their whisky.  It seems the etiquette and politics of whisky write-ups and reviews might be evolving. But first I’ll set the scene….

I’ve been writing about whisky for over 20 years now; I wrote my first review of a whisky and some accompanying tasting notes for a publication back in 2003.   Apart from deadlines and constraining word-limits, writing for magazines over the years – whether feature articles, editorial columns, or reviews and tasting notes – was relatively easy stuff because there was a degree of formality and respect between writer and brand and, also, you were often at arm’s length from your subject.  Unless it was an interview piece with the distillery’s master blender or similar, you mostly dealt with the editor or a PR rep, rather than the person who actually made the whisky.

Whisky & Wisdom launched as a blog eleven years later in 2014 to allow me a different voice that was separated from the prominent whisky organisation I was associated with.  Writing as an independent whisky blogger certainly changes one’s landscape:  There are no word-count limits, there’s no wholesale carving up of carefully-constructed paragraphs by editors, and – perhaps more critically – you can be completely honest and not have to worry too much about towing a company line or worry about biting the hands that feed you.  If I may say so myself, Whisky & Wisdom earned a reputation for honest writing that didn’t pull punches and was prepared to call a spade a spade.  And more than a few spades have been called out over the years.

The issue for many whisky bloggers, particularly in that period from 2010-2020 before Instagram became more influential, was that their content, or indeed their entire website, revolved chiefly around whisky reviews.  Editorial or feature articles were rarely their raison d’étre; it was all about reviews and spreading the word about new releases.  So, to achieve this end, they either spent their personal hard-earned to buy full-sized bottles of each new release, or they depended on receiving free samples from the distributors, PR firms, or marketing departments.  It was usually the latter of these two!  And this is why I used the phrase “biting the hands that feed you” earlier.  If you wrote a negative review about a new whisky release, you could almost guarantee you’d be omitted from the recipient list when that brand’s next new release came out.   With many bloggers/writers not wanting their supply of free samples to dry up, the situation made for either bland write-ups that did little more than regurgitate the press release or, worse still, could lead to sycophantic reviews that kept the relationship with the brand harmonious but bordered on being dishonest. 

Etiquette

It’s not often you’ll read a scathing review of a whisky – well, not in the more mainstream channels, at least – but there’s an unspoken etiquette many writers follow:  If we receive a sample and think the whisky is poor, flawed, or has few redeeming features, the etiquette is to not write or publish anything about it, but instead to write quietly and privately to the brand and to let them know why you’re choosing not to talk up or promote the product.   Of course, if the whisky is a large, mass-produced, global product, then there isn’t much point giving your two cents’ worth back to the master blender and the team that’s just released 24,000 bottles of Glen Bagpipe 12yo to the world.  However, for the much smaller artisan or craft distilleries with a new or debut release on the market – which describes the majority of Australia’s whisky distilleries right now – such feedback is often worth giving and is usually well received, particularly for the newer distilleries that are still in their early start-up releases and still finding their feet with production and maturation.  That said, it’s not hard to inadvertently rub feathers – I gave some honest but discreet feedback to two distilleries a few years ago, one in Tasmania, one in South Australia; I note they subsequently removed me from their Christmas card list and I haven’t received samples of any of their new releases since.   And that’s okay.

Press releases and reviews

I was reminded of the mechanics of all this recently when a relatively new-ish Australian distillery reached out to me with a press release.  I rarely, if ever, write articles off the back of just a press release and, ordinarily, I would have ignored it.  However, there were two aspects to this news piece that attracted me to it.  Firstly, it was a from a distillery whose whiskies I’d not yet tried, and secondly, I’d seen and heard a bit of chatter about the distillery in various circles.  So I had a suggestion for them:  I’ll write a profile piece on your distillery; give you a full feature write up; and I’ll fashion it in the context of your whiskies and their point of difference.  Accordingly, I suggested they send me some samples of their whiskies, and I could then tell the distillery’s story and history; I could shine a light on what they’re doing; I could taste, understand, and review their whiskies in the context of their operation, and then I could actually mention and discuss the news item that was the basis of the press release they sent out in the first place. 

It all started swimmingly well.  I researched up on the distillery, I sent their whisky maker a series of questions which he answered and filled in some blanks for me; I built a narrative and wrote about 70% of the copy for the article.  And then the samples arrived.  And we hit a speedbump.  I thought the whiskies were flawed. Badly so.  They exhibited the classic trait and fault that befalls almost every Australian distillery that insists on using small-sized casks e.g. 50 litre barrels:  The whiskies were hot.   They exhibited more heat than flavour, even if the flavour underneath was well-crafted.  It is a classic, well-demonstrated, and consistent symptom of small-cask maturation in the Australian climate, particularly for the distilleries who find themselves in the drier, less humid regions.  The resulting whiskies are somehow over-oaked, yet under-matured.  The one blessing in this instance is that the distillery favours casks coopered from American oak ex-bourbon barrels, so at least they weren’t overly tannic (as is often the case for distilleries using small-format French oak, ex-wine casks), but there was no escaping the heat and that the whiskies were unbalanced.

You never hang your hat on a whisky off the back of just one tasting, so I put the samples to one side and came back a few days later.  Same result.  I left them a week and returned a third time.  Still hot.  Still unbalanced.  The negative impression I had formed was at odds with some of the positive chatter I’d heard in other circles about the distillery, so I sought reinforcement and quietly reached out to four whisky colleagues who work in the industry and whose palates I trust.  I asked them what their experiences had been with the distillery.   Three of the four confirmed and corroborated my own estimation, stating that the ones they’d tried had been hot or “out of whack”.  One of the palates I approached is a retailer who actually retails the brand in question; he said, “I sell it but it’s not great – it’s hot and unbalanced”.   The fourth said she’d not tried their whiskies personally, but she’d heard similar observations of “too hot” from others. 

Integrity

With all this in mind, I had to change tack with the article.  I’d pre-written some of the copy before sampling the whiskies; I now felt obliged to edit and re-write some of what I’d previously written.  I re-fashioned the article somewhat and changed the narrative.  I elected not to write individual reviews or tasting notes for the four whiskies I’d been sent samples of, but – in the interests of honesty and integrity – I did devote a few sentences to address that the four different expressions I’d tried carried some heat and that I felt the spirit would benefit from longer maturation in larger barrels.   Following the etiquette discussed earlier in this piece, I then wrote to the whisky maker to explain why I wouldn’t be providing individual tasting notes and reviews of the four expressions in the profile piece, and I gave him the reasoning and feedback behind it, even leaning into some of the wisdom from this article here.   I thought that the feedback I gave was constructive; it was given in good spirit with honourable intentions, and it was genuinely sent with the hope that it would assist them in improving their whisky and making a better product.  Turns out, all I did was tell him his baby is ugly.

Offence

It seems the feedback was not well received.  I received a reply the next day; it was incredulous, sarcastic, facetious, and dismissive in tone.  Apparently, it’s my palate that was wrong.  Evidently, I’m ill-equipped to comment about maturation, as he’s been doing it for all of seven years.  Perhaps he wasn’t acquainted with the 12 years I spent tasting, selecting, and importing casks for the Australian branch of The Scotch Malt Whisky Society?  Or serving as a judge in several whisky and spirits competitions for 20 years and sitting on or chairing – literally – hundreds of tasting panels.  The fact that Serge gave one of their whiskies a favourable review was apparently strong evidence that I don’t know what I’m talking about.  I guess I should hand back my two Icons of Whisky awards and my Keepers’ quaich.

I get it that no one likes their work being criticised, but it surprised me that a young, small, emerging distillery competing in an exceptionally crowded and competitive marketplace would block its ears to feedback and shoot the messenger.   One of the problems start-up distilleries face, certainly in Australia, is that honest feedback is hard to come by.  It is all too easy to develop a distillery palate; to surround yourself with “yes people”, and to live in an echo chamber.  Punters don’t like to offend, so they veil their comments at whisky fairs and tastings.  “Hmmm…that’s different” or “Wow, that’s big” serve as euphemisms for “It’s out of balance; I don’t care much for this.”  Punters and consumers exercise the whisky equivalent of “quiet quitting” – they’ll pat the distiller on the back and say, “Keep at it, buddy”, but never actually buy a bottle.  The tragedy in this is that the distiller continues to hear favourable comments, but wonders why sales aren’t increasing…and so they send out more and more press releases and get louder and louder on social media. 

Politics and marketing

It’s left me wondering where the politics and mechanics of writing about whisky sits, particularly when it comes to profile pieces and whisky reviews.  Long-form whisky blogs like this are still around and still have a readership, although they’re no longer viewed by PR firms or marketing executives as a vehicle to promote new product launches or activations.  The marketers would rather put the whisky in the hands of Instagram & TikTok influencers who flash the bottle up for a story that lasts 24 hours, rather than commission a feature piece or an article that goes into detail, genuinely tells a story, and can still be read many years later. 

It was a theme Whisky & Wisdom explored a few years ago in this piece here.  It’s now four years later and the situation has leaned deeper into void.  Influencers (sorry, content creators) are sent sample packs, or get invited to event launches and their brief is simply to produce a post, a reel, and a story on Instgram.  Insert flashy lights, add a hashtag, show you’re having fun, lay a soundtrack over the top, regurgitate the press release, and then fly the gig ‘coz you’re due at the next jewellery and shoes event in an hour, plus you’re overdue with the content from yesterday’s Chinese restaurant opening you scored an invitation to.   You would not believe how many whisky launches I attend where I’m surrounded by influencers who don’t even like whisky, but they’ve been invited along because the PR firm identified that they have a large number of followers.

I’m not saying none of it sticks, but we can’t seriously be saying “This is how whisky should be marketed” in the same breath we use to bemoan that the whisky industry is currently in a massive sales downturn, the likes of which we’ve not seen for four decades?  

The best whisky marketing is word of mouth that comes from lived experience.  Compare these two contrasting lines you might hear from a friend:

“Oh, I actually tasted that whisky just last week.  It was really good; plus it’s great bang for your buck.”

“Oh, I saw a reel about that on Insta last week; some guy was spruiking it.”

Which is more powerful?  Which recommendation are you more likely to act on?  Which one will inspire a consumer to walk into their local retail outlet or jump online and buy a bottle?  

Let’s get back to marketing whisky by putting liquid on lips.  If we need reviews and promo, then involve the whisky writers who actually enjoy whisky and care about its industry…rather than self-styled, lifestyle influencers who don’t care what they spruik, as long as they’re spruiking and getting likes.  The etiquette and politics of writing about whisky and reviewing new releases haven’t changed that much, but we’re not in a good place if it ain’t founded on honesty and sincerity.

Cheers,
AD

PS…if you found aspects of this article interesting or thought-provoking, you might enjoy these other articles of ours that explore similar themes:

• The changing face of whisky marketing
• Is diversity bringing down the quality of whisky?
• Too much information
• Scoring whisky – does it add up?