Dariusz Galasiński: The arrogance of empowerment in wine communication

If there is one thing that irritates me no end in wine communication, it is when individuals and organisations say their goal is to empower wine drinkers. Their message is something like: “Our aim is to empower wine lovers, so they can choose the right wine for them” (this is a distorted quote from an empowering website). This article is about why such messages are counterproductive.

The verb empower can, of course, be swapped for encourage, enable, involve, push boundaries or any number of phrases that suggest prompting someone to think, feel or act differently. But however well-intentioned such messages may be, they remain unhelpful, patronising and divisive—serving chiefly to position those doing the empowering as somehow superior to those on the receiving end.

Empowering means that you are capable and authorised to give me power, authority, or ‘support’ my potential or ability. It also means that I am powerless, in need of the expert’s intervention. No matter how I feel or what I need, no matter how educated, clever, old, experienced or, indeed, happy I might be, I am incapable of getting on with my wine life on my own. I need you, the ever so knowledgeable expert, to tell me what the right wine for me is. You know better what wine I will like.

Such messages divide the world of wine into those who know and those who do not. Despite protestations, there is no togetherness, there is no joint enjoyment of wine. First, I need to be empowered and only then will I be a proper member of the wine drinking community. I am not enough as I am. Those who do not know, and they are legion, are not confident, inevitably troubled and overwhelmed when faced with choosing a bottle. When you lack wine knowledge, you are simply not good enough. Indeed, the implied value judgements passed on regular wine drinkers are the most pernicious part of ‘empowering’.

Let me stress: introductions to wine are helpful; some more, others less. They can be a useful tool in getting to know more about fermented grape juice, if you wish to learn. But they are only a tool for learning more about wine, they are not psychological devices for changing my confidence, thinking, or the boundaries of my wine world. Empowerers, do know your limits and your place!

It is as OK to drink just for pleasure (so often scoffed at by the wine worthy), as it is OK to analyse every sniff and sip till you are blue in the face. It is perfectly fine not to give a flying hoot about variety, balance, length, intensity, complexity or typicity, about soil, aspect and climate, or about the winemaker’s family tree. Those who simply drink wine because it tastes good, and they are by far most wine drinkers, must not be stigmatised into thinking there is something wrong with them. So, yes, offer them tools, teach them, but do not tell them that they need to be empowered to drink right. They do not. Incidentally, increased confidence is not needed for a pint of beer.

Whenever I read about being empowered, I also think about wine snobbery, as perennially indignant wine writers denounce it on my behalf. I wish they did not because, in contrast, I think wine snobbery is an important part of the winescape. I shall do better: I think the world would be poorer without people insisting on how to hold a glass or how to smell what is in it correctly. Who would we make fun of?

What is worse than this kind of wine snobbery is to claim yourself better. Telling me that you know how I should go about wine, that I must ‘gain confidence’, that I need you to empower me, is snobbery proper. I prefer a name-dropping snob any time as they take care about what and how they drink, sometimes boring me brain-dead with winesplaining, to one who makes me into a wine ignoramus in need of help packaged in the shining armour of faux modesty and humility. It is not the Savonarolas of the wine world, forever telling me how to hold the stem, who make wine miserable. They give it colour. Ban snobbery and you will ban about a half of conversations over wine. Ban empowering and you will never have to feel inadequate again.

I am happy with the mistakes I make; I even enjoy looking blankly at the wine wall. For me this is part of my wine journey and it is mine to walk. What I cannot stand is the superiority of the self-congratulating sommelier who wants to take me out of my comfort zone. So, tell me about the wines you taste in my stead, tell me also about the complexity of wine and its world. But do stop presuming that the relationship between us is that of your superiority and my inevitable need for your words of life instruction. Do stop ‘empowering’ me.

• Dariusz Galasiński is a linguist and professor at the University of Wroclaw in Poland. He has been writing on experiences of mental illness and suicide. He also drinks wine and does research into how it is spoken about both by amateurs and professionals.