Tim James: The peculiar politics of credentials in wine writing

Recently I suffered, you might say, a coincidence involving an article on this website. The bit that happened elsewhere was in a collection of trivial but predictably entertaining musings by Bill Bryson, called I’m a Stranger Here Myself. This particular musing that accompanied my breakfast was about American obesity (and perhaps his own, at least incipiently); browsing the relevant library shelves, Bill was pleased to find a book called Don’t Diet, by Dale M. Atrens, Ph,D. However, he then brought up what he said was a “customary aversion to consulting a book by anyone so immensely preposterous as to put “Ph.D” after his name”.

An aversion to the apparently boastful invocation of titles and qualifications and awards, especially in ostensibly irrelevant places, is one I share. Somewhat connectedly, later that day I noticed (and then read, with interest), the measured article on Winemag listed as: “Dr Justus Apffelstaedt: Alcohol and cancer – how much should you care?” The author is, as the customary description at the end told us, a “surgeon, oncologist, and researcher” as well as a wine-lover, and thus well qualified to offer us such an article. So, to be fair, putting the professional title “Dr” upfront (as with Dale M.Atrens’s Ph.D) is really just a shorthand CV, to assure a possible reader that the writer has, at least ostensibly, qualifications that make his article worth reading – or at least giving a try. It seems a practice that medical doctors who take to print are prone to follow.

The only other significant upfront assertion of a qualification I can easily find on this website comes with the pieces by “Greg Sherwood MW” (and I shall return to MWs later). Dr Jamie Goode doesn’t mention his PhD in plant biology except in the brief note at the end of his articles – although his scientific background is often relevant to what he writes. The note at the end of Dariusz Galasiński’s articles does tell us, relevantly, that he’s a linguist and professor at the University of Wroclaw – but you have to google and find an academic context to learn that he can write “MA, PhD, DSc, DSc” after his name. (And that reminds me, with its un-English repetition, of how amusing I found the wish of the newish owner of Vergenoegd Löw to be recognised as “Professor Dr Dr Peter Löw” – see here.) I can also point out that I myself don’t think it of relevance to my wine jottings to point out that I too have a PhD, as it’s in English literature. In fact, normally the only time I choose to use my title is when filling out the forms in doctors’ and dentists’ surgeries, as I rather hope it will annoy the medics. But I also don’t mention any awards or my Cape Wine Masters thing (is it a qualification?), though it was given in Platter’s when I worked for that, so maybe I’m just being characteristically modest – or doubtful that anyone will be impressed.

Someone who does most egregiously and inevitably like to mention, in wine contexts, both her CWM and her no doubt estimable but here totally irrelevant PhD, is that pleasant and ubiquitous competition and Platter’s judge, Dr Winifred Bowman (“fondly known as Winnie in wine circles”, the Amorim Cork Cap Classique Challenge shares with us). She is, she tells us, “a qualified physiotherapist, biomedical scientist and obtained a PhD in Education (Didactics)”, but doesn’t explain what any of that’s got to do with those “wine circles”. Maybe she feels it somehow gives a bit of gravitas to her judgements, so it might be insecurity rather than inappropriate pride behind the invocation.

I have yet to notice obvious insecurity in any of the Masters of Wine I have had the privilege, and sometimes pleasure, of meeting. And why should there be? Along, arguably, with Master Sommeliers, whose orientation is more service-oriented and a touch less “academic”, they have attained, with dedicated effort, skill and talent, the most exalted reaches of formal qualification in what we should call, I suppose, wine consumption – as opposed to production (where viticulturists and oenologists and scientists can get pretty far in prestigious studious achievement).

It’s hard to think, in fact, of any other qualification that is so relentlessly invoked anywhere. Certainly, in academe you don’t see this forward flashiness with meaningful abbreviations; qualifications are usually confined, if offered at all, to brief and subsidiary accounts of authors. Looking at my bookshelves, I see some written by MWs who let us know their claim not only on the title page but also the front cover: Wine Myths and Realty by Benjamin Lewin MW, Authentic Wine by Jamie Goode and Sam Harrop MW…. But not all. Rhône Renaissance author Remington Norman (an earlier generation, and also rather posh) doesn’t advertise his MW or his PhD, and Jancis Robinson and Julia Harding are equally restrained in the Oxford Companion, World Atlas, Wine Grapes, et al.

I mentioned “Greg Sherwood MW” on this website – and I see that even Greg’s email address and website URL include the qualification: there’s determination for you! It’s not uncommon, though, is my impression. Tim Atkin’s private email doesn’t mention his MW, but, boy, he makes up for it elsewhere; it’s on his website, instagram account, every one of his publications – there’s even an “MW” as well as “Master of Wine” squeezed onto every single one of his lucrative score stickers for bottles, so two assertions in that tiny space.

All this is also inevitably something of a triumph for the Institute of Masters of Wine in pushing their excellent brand. Why not? It’s a brash, shouty and self-assertive world we live in, our little wine corner included.

• Tim James is one of South Africa’s leading wine commentators, contributing to various local and international wine publications. His book Wines of South Africa – Tradition and Revolution appeared in 2013.