Editorial: Thinking about SA wine’s next decade

Happy New Year. In 2036, ten years from now, I will turn 65. By then, I hope to be stepping aside rather than stepping down, less bound by day-to-day obligations, with greater freedom and flexibility, yet still engaged where it counts: thinking, writing, questioning and contributing when it adds value. That prospective distance prompts a useful thought experiment: what, right now, is within the industry’s power to change and what isn’t?

I don’t believe South African wine is headed for dramatic collapse, but neither is it set for triumph. Rather, we are at a hinge moment. The direction of travel is not yet fixed, but the constraints are brutally clear.

The gains that can still be made

First, the cost-of-production crisis has to be confronted. The idea that “efficient farming” can compensate for structurally low grape prices needs to be abandoned. Greater supply discipline is required, not an instant solution to small margins, but as a necessary step to reduce volatility and break the industry’s destructive boom-and-bust cycle.

Second, South Africa needs to double down on its comparative advantage: site expression at moderate alcohol levels. In an era of climate stress and global palate fatigue, the industry should be leaning into freshness and dryness rather than power. Respect for provenance and restrained winemaking aren’t new ideas, but they need to be articulated more clearly and more consistently. This isn’t just a stylistic choice; it aligns with global consumption trends towards lower alcohol and drinkability, and that shift is only going to accelerate.

Third, the premium narrative needs to mature (and, somehow, volumes at the top end need to grow). The language around “premiumisation” must become more thoughtful and sincere. Less chest-thumping, more specificity. Producers need to be clear about who their wines are for, where they sit globally, and why they deserve their price. The industry has to stop pretending that £8 retail wines can build a national reputation. Intellectual honesty matters.

What won’t change on its own

So where is the industry falling short, or at least failing to act decisively enough?

The biggest failure is timidity. Everyone knows that South Africa has too much wine chasing too little value. Yet meaningful vineyard reduction remains politically and emotionally taboo. We cling to the hope that exports will grow us out of trouble. In reality, the delay means the ongoing contraction that besets the industry is more painful than it needs to be. Timely, coordinated supply reduction could preserve both capital and dignity.

Second, marketing remains fragmented and underpowered. For all the excellence at producer level, South Africa still struggles to speak with a unified voice in key markets. The messaging oscillates between “luxury boutique” and “best value wine in the world”, two positions that largely cancel each other out. The absence of sustained, well-funded market-building in the US and Asia remains one of the great missed opportunities.

Third, the domestic market continues to be neglected. The South African consumer is still too often treated as secondary, seen as price-sensitive, unreliable, not worth cultivating deeply. That is short-sighted. Wine steadily loses cultural ground to spirits, RTDs and functional beverages. Serious effort needs to go into rebuilding wine’s relevance at home, or a generation of potential drinkers will drift away.

Finally, labour reform continues to lag behind the rhetoric. There is plenty of talk about transformation, equity and ethical trade. Progress exists, but it is uneven and often cosmetic. Real skills transfer, management inclusion and worker equity schemes have yet to gain meaningful traction. The sooner these are properly embraced, the stronger the industry’s human capital will be going into the next decade.

As editor, allow me a special word about wine media which sits at the junction of culture, commerce and credibility, and it’s here that leverage is significant but underused. To the extent that wine media exists at all, it still tends to favour self-congratulatory hype. The era of uncritical patriotism is, unfortunately, not yet over. Some critics are prepared to say that prices are misaligned, that certain “premium” wines don’t justify their positioning, and that the system is failing growers — but there aren’t enough of them. As a result, the industry’s internal conversation can sometimes feel naive. Critique is not disloyalty, and that needs to be normalised.

The shortcomings of wine media aren’t hard to explain. Most outlets remain structurally dependent on the industry they cover, relying heavily on producer funding through advertising, competition fees, tastings and access. That dependence places a ceiling on dissent. Uncomfortable truths about oversupply, brand incoherence or mediocrity at certain price points are often hinted at rather than pursued. Independence exists, but largely at the margins. And an industry without independent media inevitably becomes self-referential.

The broader picture is clear, however.  The industry has largely stopped lying to itself about the way forward, but it still doesn’t act boldly enough on what it knows to be true. The diagnosis exists. The prescriptions are mostly known. What’s missing is the collective courage to endure short-term pain in service of long-term health.

The lesson is that wine economics is never just about vineyards and markets. It’s about governance, narrative discipline, and the ability to align production, pricing and purpose. When those drift apart, no terroir, however sacred, can save us.