What Does 'Authenticity' in Wine Really Mean - And Who Gets to Decide? (II)
A topic that is ever-evolving and multi-dimensional
I’ve been pulled into Dave Baxter’s Wine Conversations series to riff on the ever-loaded topic of authenticity. This is one of the few written wine series I actually look forward to reading - smart, personal, and full of the kinds of questions most people avoid. So when Dave asked me to contribute, I said yes before I finished reading the DM.
In Part 1, George Nordahl (of Down the Rabbit Hole fame) opened a great loop. I’m here to go deeper into it. Possibly sideways, too.
Since joining the MW program, I’ve started writing with a lot more structure - mostly essays, always with some form of critical analysis. I like pulling topics apart, holding them up to the light, and asking who benefits. So that’s what you’re getting here too. Less “here’s what I think,” more “here’s what I think we’re not asking.”
Hope you enjoy the ride.
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Introduction: A Contested Concept in a Changing Industry
In an industry steeped in tradition yet constantly shaped by innovation, the concept of “authenticity” in wine remains both powerful and contested. Consumers, critics, winemakers, and marketers frequently invoke the term to assert quality, identity, and legitimacy - but its meaning is far from universal. For some, authenticity lies in adherence to historical practices; for others, it is about transparency, minimal intervention, or a genuine sense of place. This essay explores the evolving and multi-dimensional nature of authenticity in wine, examining how it is constructed, communicated, and contested - and crucially, who has the authority to define it.
Tradition as the Benchmark of Authenticity
At its core, authenticity in wine is often associated with origin and tradition. Wines from well-known regions with long histories - such as Burgundy, Barolo, or Rioja - are frequently perceived as more “authentic” because they conform to established appellation rules and cultural expectations. For example, a favourite of mine, Davide Abbona’s Barolo - using Nebbiolo, long macerations, and large botti - would likely be considered authentic by traditionalists, precisely because it reflects generational continuity and typicity. Similarly, the wines of Charles Symington in the Douro, rooted in the Port trade and the dramatic terraces of the region, gain authenticity through historic legitimacy.
However, authenticity is not synonymous with tradition alone. Many contemporary wine drinkers - particularly those drawn to the natural wine movement - view authenticity through the lens of minimal intervention, ecological farming, and transparency. For these consumers, a wine is authentic not because it follows rules but because it reflects the raw, unfiltered reality of a place, a season and a winemaker’s philosophy about that place or season. The legendary Owen Latta of Eastern Peake, for example, may produce Chardonnay and Pinot Noir that eschew SO₂ or fining yet are deeply expressive of their Victorian terroir. These wines challenge conventional notions of quality but claim authenticity by virtue of their perceived honesty and lack of artifice.
The natural wine movement, however, has also exposed the fragility of authenticity as a concept. Wines spoiled by mousiness, volatile acidity, or oxidation are sometimes defended as “authentic” because they are unmanipulated. Critics argue that this redefinition risks turning authenticity into a stylistic shield rather than a meaningful standard. Who decides whether a cloudy, unstable wine is authentic or simply flawed? Does sincerity in intent override technical stability or sensory enjoyment?
Conversely, high-tech or commercial producers may also claim authenticity, albeit on different terms. The big boy Concha y Toro, for instance, produces wines at scale that are technically sound, regionally expressive, and highly transparent about viticultural and winemaking practices. While these wines may lack the romanticism of a hand-harvested Jura Chardonnay, they reach millions of consumers and offer a consistent, affordable experience - arguably a form of authenticity rooted in accessibility and reliability.
The role of regulation and certification further complicates the picture. Appellations (AOCs, DOCGs, etc.) are designed to safeguard authenticity by codifying origin and method. Yet they can also stifle innovation and favour dominant interpretations of what a region “should” be. The exclusion of orange wines from some appellations in Italy or restrictions on varietal experimentation in parts of France illustrate how official standards can marginalise alternative forms of authentic expression. As such, institutions codify one version of authenticity, often reflecting entrenched power structures and economic interests.
Digital Uprising: Storytelling as the New Certification
In contrast, the digital age has democratised authenticity, allowing consumers, sommeliers, and small producers to shape narratives outside traditional channels. Social media, blogs, and natural wine fairs enable wines once ignored by critics or regulatory bodies to develop cult status and loyal followings. Producers like Koerner in Australia or Gut Oggau in Austria have built global reputations not through institutional endorsements but through compelling storytelling, visual identity, and perceived integrity.
This leads to the question: who gets to decide what is authentic? The answer depends on whose values dominate the conversation. For traditional wine lovers, authenticity may be decided by regulatory bodies, wine critics, and regional heritage. For millennials and Gen Z consumers, it may rest with peer communities, influencers, and personal alignment with sustainability, labour ethics, or cultural relevance. In this pluralistic landscape, authenticity is no longer a fixed attribute but a negotiated identity, shaped by competing forces of tradition, innovation, commerce, and perception.
In conclusion, authenticity in wine is not a singular truth but a layered, evolving construct. It can refer to tradition, to transparency, to identity, to honesty of intention, or to accessibility - and these definitions often sit in tension with one another. Rather than ask whether a wine is authentic, the more useful question may be: authentic to whom, and for what purpose? The authority to define authenticity no longer resides solely with institutions or critics, but is increasingly shared - and contested - among producers, consumers, and the wider cultural context in which wine is experienced. The future of authenticity lies not in standardising its meaning, but in embracing its multiplicity.
As always, thanks for reading - stay thirsty, stay curious. If you would like to further support me, you can follow me on Instagram or LinkedIN or tell your friends about this newsletter.
Aleksandar
Authenticity, I believe, is far less difficult to define than thought. Ultimately, it's wines expressing sensory qualities true to its origin, be it a region or specific vineyard. Since there are many ways to skin a cat, this objective is often achieved by producers of any scale, from big commercial wineries to the smallest handcraft brands which don't own a winery at all. It can be achieved through farming and winemaking employing so-called conventional methods as well as through sustainable, organic or regenerative farming connected (as it often is) to minimal intervention or natural style winemaking. Authenticity is not so much a matter of "who gets to decide." The biggest factor is undoubtedly intent. That is, sense of place prioritized over all other objectives, be it varietal character or branding, or even standards of quality typically measured (in most of today's media) by numerical ratings. To be "authentic," it's more important for a wine to taste like where it comes from, and all the cultural and historical aspects associated with that place, than even being "good" or socially acceptable. Not much different from being an authentic person. You don't have to satisfy everyone's expectation of what is normal or respectable. As long as you are true to yourself, and where you come from, you are "authentic." And when it comes to wine, many wine lovers (such as myself), consider this to be the defining attribute of the most interesting and compelling wines of all!
What a great read! You hit all of the points that initially came to mind when I saw the topic.
"authenticity is no longer a fixed attribute but a negotiated identity, shaped by competing forces of tradition, innovation, commerce, and perception" - love this!
"authentic to whom, and for what purpose" probably sums up my feelings that authenticity stems from the intention of the producer (writer/artist/etc).
It's funny how easily human beings can spot a product that feels inauthentic...that uncanny valley unease. Though, it's also funny how great marketing can deceive us with artificially orchestrated authenticity...and in this case, I embrace the genius of great storytelling and design 🤣.