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!
"Socially acceptable" standards are those espoused within a group. There is, for instance, a large group of wine lovers in the U.S. who prefer very full bodied, intensely ripe and oak-rich styles of Cabernet Sauvignon. They rate all wines according to those standards; therefore I'd say this is socially acceptable within that group. There are other groups who now prefer the opposite: higher acid, lighter, even underripe styles of red wine with no oak influence at all. For the latter group, it is just assumed that these styles of wines are superior, therefore more enjoyable when they get together. Really, wine preferences are no different from preferences for music, books, art, sports, etc. Of course, there are many open minded wine lovers who can appreciate wines of all types. But ultimately, to each his/her own.
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 🤣.
Thank you - and yes, I’m so glad you brought up the uncanny valley effect, because that’s exactly it. We might not always articulate why something feels off, but we can sense when authenticity has been replaced by performance.
I think the tension between engineered authenticity and lived authenticity is one of the most fascinating dynamics in wine right now - especially as more producers realise that transparency itself has become a currency. Appreciate your thoughtful read as always!
This view of authenticity as a negotiated identity is firmly post-modernist, suggesting that each party constructs or co-constructs a definition aligned with their values and tenets. If we wished to move toward consensus, we might need to narrow the definitional range of the term, tossing the existentialist implications (significance, purposefulness, righteousness) and focusing instead on historicity. That would open space for philosophical discussions of the net results, not of the wine qua wine but its effects on the person tasting, drinking, and pondering its meaning. On the other hand, it is (astonishingly) difficult for the wine commentariat to reach consensus even about what constitutes a flaw, so a narrowing of definitions in order to advance our understanding is not likely to enjoy success.
You’re right: framing authenticity as a negotiated identity places us squarely in post-modern terrain, where meaning is fluid, context-dependent, and constructed through interaction. In doing so, we move from "Is this wine true?" to "Is this wine rooted?" That reframing doesn’t resolve subjectivity, but it does set boundaries that are at least inspectable: methods, provenance, tradition, intentional deviation. It opens a lane for critical but grounded discussion - one that avoids the evangelical tone of righteousness or the dead-end of personal narrative-as-proof.
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!
Maybe authenticity isn’t a destination, but a spectrum. The best wines don’t just taste of a place - they reveal it.
Also, what is "socially acceptable" and who gets to decide that? That's one for the rabbit hole.
"Socially acceptable" standards are those espoused within a group. There is, for instance, a large group of wine lovers in the U.S. who prefer very full bodied, intensely ripe and oak-rich styles of Cabernet Sauvignon. They rate all wines according to those standards; therefore I'd say this is socially acceptable within that group. There are other groups who now prefer the opposite: higher acid, lighter, even underripe styles of red wine with no oak influence at all. For the latter group, it is just assumed that these styles of wines are superior, therefore more enjoyable when they get together. Really, wine preferences are no different from preferences for music, books, art, sports, etc. Of course, there are many open minded wine lovers who can appreciate wines of all types. But ultimately, to each his/her own.
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 🤣.
Thank you - and yes, I’m so glad you brought up the uncanny valley effect, because that’s exactly it. We might not always articulate why something feels off, but we can sense when authenticity has been replaced by performance.
I think the tension between engineered authenticity and lived authenticity is one of the most fascinating dynamics in wine right now - especially as more producers realise that transparency itself has become a currency. Appreciate your thoughtful read as always!
This view of authenticity as a negotiated identity is firmly post-modernist, suggesting that each party constructs or co-constructs a definition aligned with their values and tenets. If we wished to move toward consensus, we might need to narrow the definitional range of the term, tossing the existentialist implications (significance, purposefulness, righteousness) and focusing instead on historicity. That would open space for philosophical discussions of the net results, not of the wine qua wine but its effects on the person tasting, drinking, and pondering its meaning. On the other hand, it is (astonishingly) difficult for the wine commentariat to reach consensus even about what constitutes a flaw, so a narrowing of definitions in order to advance our understanding is not likely to enjoy success.
You’re right: framing authenticity as a negotiated identity places us squarely in post-modern terrain, where meaning is fluid, context-dependent, and constructed through interaction. In doing so, we move from "Is this wine true?" to "Is this wine rooted?" That reframing doesn’t resolve subjectivity, but it does set boundaries that are at least inspectable: methods, provenance, tradition, intentional deviation. It opens a lane for critical but grounded discussion - one that avoids the evangelical tone of righteousness or the dead-end of personal narrative-as-proof.