Several months ago, there was an obscure posting in the Brewers Forum from Charlie Papazian. He was passing on a request he’d received for a brewer to speak about sustainable brewing issue at a conference taking place in San Francisco. Since I’ve written about organic beer and green breweries several times now, it piqued my interest. The conference was EcoCity World Summit, and it took place April 21-26 at various location in the Bay Area. I wrote to them to get press credentials on the off chance that a brewer did participate, and also because I was curious to see what else might come up related to the recent agricultural shortages with barley and hops. It turned out that Greg Koch, from Stone Brewing, had agreed to be on one of the panels, on Saturday April 26. His panel was titled “The Future of Food For Cities.”
After a gala opening at the Herbst Theatre and two days of academic seminars at Berkeley’s Extension Center at Third and Mission, the remaining three days of the conference all took place at the Nob Hill Masonic Center on California Street. A number of the panel discussions focused on the future of various infrastructures, and had titles that all began “The Future of …,” with future glimpses of transportation in cities, energy to power cities, consumption, population, equity, architecture and urban design.
Below this interesting mural were a couple dozen tables with local organizations, media and other related ecological agendas with fliers, magazines and books. There was quite a lot of interesting stuff to see and read.
The first speaker on “The Future of Food For Cities” was particularly interesting. Eric Holt-Giménez, Director of Food First, which is also known as the Institute for Food and Development Policy, gave a lot of information about the myths surrounding the current food shortage. The most important of these is that he doesn’t believe it’s a shortage at all. He pointed out that the many food riots taking place around the world are not even riots, but rebellions. They aren’t being staged by starving populations, but by the poor angry about how quickly food prices have risen, about a growing entitlement gap and lack of democracy. Worldwide, average food prices have gone up a staggering 83% over the last three years, and 45% in just the last nine months. We all know about barley and hops, but wheat is up 130% and rice 66%.
At the same time, the big food companies are reporting record profits: ADM 25%, Monsanto 45%, General Foods 61% and Cargill 86%. But Holt-Giménez claims there is no shortage whatsoever, that reserve stocks are fine. To account for the higher prices he goes to say that across the board the rising prices are and will continue to blamed on the following:
I’m not quite sure what to make of that. As he was ticking them off, I noticed they were pretty much the exact reasons that we’ve been told barley prices are rising and are some of the reasons for hops, too. With hops, having fewer acres planted — especially of aroma hops — is undoubtedly the primary cause and yields are still down as a result. But it’s hard not to wonder if some of the rising costs are due to some chicanery on the part of what Holt-Giménez refers to as the Industrial Agri-foods Complex.
He gave a lengthy explanation of the root causes, but the ones that seemed the most problematic to me were these. The so-called Green Revolution of the 1960-80s concentrated ownership of the world’s land into just a few very large corporations. As a consequence, we’ve lost 75% of food diversity to the point where cotton, maize, wheat, rice and soy account for 91% of all crops grown. That makes for a vulnerable food system where a problem with just one crop could have a ripple effect across the entire economy. Some of the other things he cited included the removal of transit barriers, dismantling marketing boards, free-trade agreements and food subsidies to the tune of $1 billion per day.
What Holt-Giménez sees happening is a collapse of the food and fuel systems into one, except that the biofuel solution is no solution at all. He calls it the “Grand Mythology,” that we “can’t consume our way out of over-consumption.” There a couple of essays at Food First that go into a bit more detail about this, if you’re interested. I’d suggest The New Green Revolution and World Food Prices, The Great Agrofuel Swindle, and Pouring Fuel on the Food.
Greg Koch went last, telling a receptive audience a story familiar to all of us, but which was largely new to a good portion of the crowd. Koch talked about how “the U.S. is now the most exciting place for beer in the world, bar none.” He told the story of beer’s history, from the golden age to its recent renaissance.
He discussed the malt and hops shortages of late and the statistic about the average American living within 10 miles of a brewery. Koch also brought up his own brewery’s efforts to be green, then delving into a broader examination of what many others were doing as well, painting an honest picture of just how green the craft beer community is.
After each panelist spoke, the three of them, took lively questions from the audience. From left, Greg Koch, Carol Whiteside, President of the Great Valley Center in Modesto (and Modesto’s former mayor), and Eric Holt-Giménez, from Food First.
It was certainly an interesting experience and I was glad to see craft beer playing a role in thinking about the future of humanity and we should go about securing it.
Alan over at A Good Beer Blog has a post today entitled More On That Code Of Conduct Idea, itself prompted by something written by Andy Crouch at his Beer Scribe website, called Media Draft: Anheuser Busch, Paid Travel, and the Ethics of Beer Writers…. Start with Andy’s thoughts and then read what Alan responded with before launching into what’s below here. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
This is clearly an issue that’s not going away. Not everybody seems able to agree on what is acceptable behavior for a beer writer and as with most things involving morals and ethics, there really aren’t any hard and fast rules that can be applied to every situation. There can be guiding principles, of course, but they have to conform to the day to day working realities, otherwise they’re meaningless. Ethics is defined, according to my OED, as “the moral principles governing or influencing conduct.”
To me this debate is important because I had an idea last year to start up another Beer Writers Guild to replace the North American Guild of Beer Writers. This time around, I felt the right way to do it was to have a guild that was by writers, for writers, so I enlisted as founding members the help of five colleagues to get us off the ground: Stephen Beaumont, Lew Bryson, Stan Hieronymus, Lisa Morrison and Lucy Saunders. The idea was to set things up and then invite all of our fellow writers to join us. We’re all pretty busy, of course, and things have been moving forward, but at a snail’s pace due, at least in part, to my own lack of spare time to work on the project.
One of the things I noticed early on, talking amongst the six of us (and other writers as well) was that it is very difficult to agree on what rules of conduct should be set out for the group. Some wanted almost no rules, others some loose standards and I suspect from talking with Andy more generally about this in Germany that he would lean toward having some very rigid rules, possibly involving a prohibition or disclosure of any received from a brewery or beer company. The way he explained his position to me in Bavaria has softened somewhat in his recent blog post, but I still felt the same frustration when I read “[a]re you absolutely convinced the person wasn’t influenced by the free plane ride, shuttles, hotel room, day trips, beer, meals, and other activities?” (Full Disclosure: we had this conversation at an Anheuser-Busch beer dinner during an all-expense paid trip to Bavaria sponsored by the Bavarian Brewers Federation, an Agricultural Trade organization whose exact name now escapes me, and others.) I tried to persuade Andy then that his position was too rigid and unrealistic given that beer writing doesn’t really make anyone a comfortable living all by itself, but I don’t think I got very far.
In Andy’s post he quotes Ray Daniels from his own disclosure of paid travel, suggesting that if anyone had a problem with that, they didn’t really understand the reality of writing about beer for a living, as follows. “If you think that beer writing pays enough for anyone to bring you this kind of information without brewer support then your perception of the beer world is twisted like some M.C. Escher block print. Either that or Mad Cow disease has finally become manifest in America. In either case, you need to have a beer, read the piece and then decide for yourself what you actually think. Jumps to conclusion, knee jerk reactions and other un-pondered perspectives need not apply.” Amen, brother, and I credit Andy for sharing that perspective, too.
But as Ray so cogently points out, beer writing doesn’t pay the bills, for most of us it’s a labor of love. No one I know actually makes a living writing “only” about beer. Even ones that come close, Beaumont for example, also write about travel, food and spirits (and he also has a restaurant). Michael Jackson (who we know accepted travel and such) also wrote about whisky, and in fact was better known for that in his native England. It’s simply too narrow a topic to sustain a cadre of writers all by itself. So that means it’s utterly impossible for anyone to live up to a standard where no one ever accepts anything and also can make a living. To me, it’s academic ivory tower thinking that ignores reality. It may look good on paper or as a theory, but out in the trenches it just doesn’t work.
And I can’t help but think that trying to discredit everyone who does accept freebies does no one any favors, either? If everybody does from time to time accept a press junket or a free beer dinner, who then is left above the fray? I hate to suggest that something is acceptable just because everybody is doing it, but perhaps everybody’s doing it because it already is acceptable? Under such circumstances, to not ever accept would put a writer at a disadvantage in terms of stories he or she has access to. No one has ever insisted what I write about, only that I am encouraged to write about the experience.
At what point do we draw the line? Most would agree receiving samples to review is acceptable. But what about a case? And what about press credentials for attending events? I just got back from the Craft Brewers Conference in San Diego. As a member of the press, I could attend any number of seminars that brewers had to pay for, and I’m pretty sure they weren’t cheap. Should I have had to pay my way to every event, to avoid the appearance of bias or being compromised in my opinion? As media credentials are also a time-honored tradition for getting news coverage, should they likewise be thrown out, too, since they might bias the journalist? My point simply is where does it end? Where do you draw the line between the legitimate and the unethical? And who gets to decide? Has getting into movies before they’re released for free made movie reviewers unable to pan a horrible flick? When I was a record buyer for the now defunct Record Bar chain, headquartered in North Carolina, a record label flew me to Chicago for the weekend to see a new band whose record they wanted me to buy. The band sucked and so did the record. They wanted end caps; I think I put in one record per high volume store. Was I influenced by the fact that they flew me to the windy city? Not one iota. I had a job to do, which was to make the best buying decision based on how many I believed the chain of record stores I worked for could sell. That’s no different from being a professional journalist. I believe I can separate the job from the perks. I’m an adult. That’s what the job requires. If I muck it up enough times, saying something bad is good, my readers will stop paying any attention to me. If I’m continually out of step with popular opinion, I’ll stop getting writing assignments.
So what to do? My wife, who’s an attorney like Andy Crouch, picks up the tab for me and my two children. In exchange, I take care of the kids and do stuff around the house, which is where I work from. In my writing, I personally don’t ask for anything beyond a sample I may need. I pay my own way almost all of the time, and on my taxes show a loss every year with more expenses than income from beer writing, primarily because of the high cost of air travel. I hope that will improve and change, but for now that’s the way it is. If someone offers me a sample, a t-shirt or yet another keychain, I will often graciously accept. If someone invites me on a trip or to a dinner, etc., if I’m available I will also generally accept. I take the position that I won’t ask for something, but if offered I will usually accept, provided there are no obvious expectations created that I find personally troubling. To hear Crouch talk about it, I may as well not bother writing about it because apparently I’ve sold my soul to the devil of bias, especially if I don’t follow his requirement that all disclosures must be in full and up front. Perhaps every beer writer should just start every article they write with a standard boilerplate disclosure, that will sure make for some entertaining copy guaranteed to really draw in the reader. I know in his blog post, Andy’s just raising the question and saying it’s something to be aware of and watch out for, but since I already know where he falls on the debate and what even raising it says, I think we can move past that to what he’s really suggesting, which is that he strongly dislikes the practice and appears suspect of anyone not walking the road as elevated as his own.
But unless you’re independently wealthy, why say no? Why create an ethical standard that only the wealthy can adhere to, especially when no one else is terribly concerned about it? According to Lew Bryson, Crouch told him “if you can’t afford to write about beer, you should do something else.” The full quote, from a comment posted on the Appellation Beer Blog is as follows.
I think I’ve been pretty clear that I acknowledge not having to make this entire leap due to an outside, full time job. And I’ve acknowledged that said full-time job allows me the fiscal freedom to follow a certain set of guidelines that I have described here and elsewhere. To those who say they cannot make a full-time living without crossing some ethical lines, I’m sorry to say, you should not be writing full time. Just as a lawyer (to take my trade) who cannot fiscally operate a solo practice without breaching a few conflict of interest rules should get a different job (either with a larger firm, a non-profit, or out of the legal trade). I think it’s better practice to write part-time and get a second or different job rather than cross certain standardized ethical guidelines in order to make an extra few bucks.
As Andy himself admits, his law practice far outweighs his beer writing in terms of income. Knowing that, how can that statement not be taken as class politics? Here’s what’s wrong with what he’s saying, at least in my opinion. Crouch suggests that a lawyer who can’t make a living, shouldn’t be a lawyer. I’m okay with that statement, since there are numerous examples of lawyers able to make a comfortable living. There are many, many people and organizations willing to pay substantial sums for legal services. Can the same be said for writing about beer? Of course not, and for that simple reason I don’t think you can compare the two. The occupational opportunities are vast indeed, especially when set side by side with that of beer writing. Even with the in roads made over the past few decades, the profession of beer writer is a struggling one with no clear career path, specific schools or recruiters waiting to snap one up. There is nobody that’s making a living writing full time only about beer. Give me one name of someone, anyone, who makes a living, decent or otherwise, ONLY writing about beer, with either no additional topics or a second or day job? Stumped? Me, too. That’s because there aren’t any. Even if you could find one, somewhere, that still suggests it’s a very difficult thing to achieve, impossible or nearly so. Beer writing simply is not a well-paid job. No one’s clamoring to get into the field as their ticket to fame and fortune. And quite frankly, this inflexible prohibition on accepting things would also deal one more blow to people writing about beer. It would make it much harder for new writers to enter the field or for part time writers to be able to compete with the more established among us. And that, I believe, would be bad for not only the writing community, but for the industry itself. There’s room for many more voices to talk about better beer. We should be making it easier for beer writers, not more difficult.
I really don’t want to sound insulting (and Andy I’m really not trying to be) but it seems easy to take such a black and white position with regard to accepting free trips and the like, when you already have a decent income that allows you to afford to pay your own way, and I acknowledge that you’ve said so. But it just feels a little like class superiority. I really don’t think that’s your intention, but I can’t help but hear this voice in the back of my head every time this argument comes up, saying “why don’t those commoners know their place, this profession is for reserved for those of breeding.” When you try to impose your ethics on the rest of us, suggesting no one can accept something of value as a part of doing their job, despite your acknowledgment that it’s a time-honored tradition (albeit one you disagree with), it’s like you think you get to decide who can actually DO that job by making rules very few people can afford to live up to, and I don’t think that’s realistic or, quite honestly, very fair. When you say writing about beer can only be done by those that can afford it, pip pip, you need to be wearing a monocle and top hat. The poor need not apply. That just fries my lower middle-class upbringing into a frenzy.
Andy, I think I can speak for the six of us in saying we hope you’ll be a part of the new Beer Writers Guild (once we get our shit together) but I can guarantee you that our code of conduct will not include a prohibition on accepting travel or other items of value, nor will we require a specific type of disclosure for any article we write. I believe that has to be a decision made by each individual writer. Perhaps you’ll think that will make our fledgling group a nonstarter from the get go, but I would argue that there are more important issues to tackle than a practice as common as the press junket, such as raising the quality of writing and getting us all better pay, more work and contracts that are more fair. That will go a long way toward creating an environment where beer writers could actually make a decent living. As Lew puts it, “give me fair pay for my work, and let the readers be a bit more demanding, and you’ll GET quality writing, and ethical writing.”
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
Happy Earth Day everybody. This is the 39th annual celebration setting aside a day to reflect on the big blue marble that sustains us and makes every second of all our lives possible, including enjoying some wonderful beer, organic or otherwise. I did a feature earlier this year on Green Breweries called It Ain’t Easy Bein’ Green in All About Beer magazine. In addition to writing about organic beer, I packed as many stories of ways breweries are running their business in sustainable ways as would fit. But the reality is that in doing research for the article what I discovered is that the number of breweries and the numbers of ways that breweries voluntarily adopt green practices is, quite frankly, staggering. And as far as I can tell, most of them do so just because it’s the right thing to do. There are economic advantages for some sustainable decisions, but by and large they’re not necessarily the least expensive way to do things. I was really struck by this as so many places stepped up to tell me what they were doing, so many in fact that I couldn’t fit anywhere near what they told me in the article. So as Earth Day has me reflecting on this while enjoying a frosty beverage, I’m proud to be a part of one of the greenest industries around. It’s time to fire up the iPod and put on a favorite old song: The Most Beautiful World in the World, by Harry Nilsson. Please join me in drinking a toast to our Earth.
At 12:01 a.m., 75 years ago, beer became legal for the first time in thirteen years, but in only 19 states. Though it would be eight more months until Prohibition officially ended (on December 5), President Franklin D. Roosevelt kept his first campaign promise by encouraging Congress to modify the Volstead Act and they passed the Cullen-Harrison bill, which FDR signed into law on March 23. The bill allowed the sale and manufacture of low-alcohol beer (3.2% alcohol by weight/4.0% by volume), along with light wines, too. For brewers, it represented a return to brewing and those that had remained opening making non-alcoholic products quickly retooled. Those that had been shuttered for over a decade had a harder time re-opening, but some did manage it. Ultimately Prohibition did irreparable harm the industry as a whole and less than half of America’s breweries did not survive.
|
The Brewers Association in Boulder, Colorado, is again celebrating the day, this time as “75 Years of Beer,” marking the 75th anniversary of when 3.2 beer could again legally be sold before the formal repeal of Prohibition eight months later on December 5, 1933. That should gladden the heart of historian Bob Skilnik somewhat, though he’s still hard at work making sure everyone knows the true facts. Less than a month ago, things were still not too good in the media or the blogosphere. Skilnik, writing on March 13. “It’s already started and I find myself this week screaming at my computer screen, the TV and a few newspapers, and as it now appears, beer writers, breweries, and at least one brewing trade organization. April 7 does NOT signify the end of National Prohibition. National Prohibition ended on December 5, 1933.” He also added, magnanimously that “Julia Herz (the Brewers Association’s Craft Beer Program Director) has, however, gone out of her way and changed their website info in an effort to get the history right. And for this, I tip my hat to her and the BA and their 75 Years of Beer celebration.)” |
The Brewers Association this year cleverly called the celebration “75 Years of Beer” since this year is the 75th anniversary of 3.2 beer being legalized in 19 states. But that won’t work next year, because “76 Years of Beer” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. From their press release:
Historians note that Prohibition officially ended on December 5, 1933, with the ratification of the 21st Amendment. But earlier that year, newly-elected President Franklin D. Roosevelt took steps to fulfill his campaign promise to end the national ban on alcohol. He spurred Congress to modify the Volstead Act to allow the sale of 3.2 percent beer in advance of the Twenty-first Amendment being ratified. Thus on April 7, 1933, Roosevelt himself received newly legalized beer at the White House to toast what was the beginning of the end for Prohibition. In the 24-hours that followed, more than 1.5 million gallons of beer flowed as Americans celebrated.
“April 7th is a day to recognize the past 75 years of beer and the beer community’s contribution to American’s quality of life. The explosion of creativity and innovation by those who make beer is an American success story,” said Charlie Papazian, President of the Brewers Association.
“As we celebrate this significant day in the history of beer, we also recognize the incredible contributions beer has made to our nation and the economy over the last 75 years,” added Jeff Becker, President of the Beer Institute. “Today, our industry contributes nearly $190 billion annually to the U.S. economy and provides more than 1.7 million jobs to our nation’s workforce.”
“April 7th is the perfect time to highlight the entrepreneurial spirit and economic contributions America’s beer industry brings to our country. Americans now have access to nearly 13,000 labels of beer — within the safest alcohol distribution system in the world — because of the state-based regulatory system that was established 75 years ago,” added Craig Purser, president of the National Beer Wholesalers Association (NBWA).
See, that’s a lot of angles that have little to do with repeal or the specific history of the event but which capture the spirit of the celebration, namely a holiday talking about beer’s virtues.
Another historian that I greatly admire, Maureen Ogle (author of Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer) tells the true story of the events surrounding April 7 in an op-ed piece in the L.A. Times.
She writes:
Today, we look back on Prohibition as an exercise in temporary insanity, but the 13-year experiment in sobriety was rooted in our quintessentially American faith that we can perfect the world. A broad cross section of people — men and women, urban and rural, young and old — supported the ban on alcohol because they believed that it would reduce crime, alleviate poverty, strengthen the family and nurture a more perfect union.
That lofty vision collapsed under the weight of reality. Prohibition spawned an underground economy devoted to making, shipping and selling booze. The officials trying to enforce it earned more from bribes, kickbacks and the resale of confiscated alcohol than from their meager salaries. The poison of such corruption permeated daily life. It undermined respect for the Prohibition amendment and, by extension, for the Constitution itself. Worse, Americans realized that in banning the production of alcoholic beverages, one of the nation’s largest and most heavily taxed industries, they had closed the spigot on a significant source of both jobs and revenue.
Maureen also has a number short stories having to do with April 7, 1933 on her blog that are worth reading.
Bob Skilnik also sent out his own press release in an effort to make sure the right story is told.
April 7th is Not the 75th Anniversary of the End of National Prohibition “What was was once a trite beer history canard has become an outright lie,” says beer historian Bob Skilnik. “I can only hope that the apparent rewriting of U.S. brewing history is either an innocent result of poor research and not a shameful display of industry greed, just for the sake of a bump in beer sales.”
Bob Skilnik, author of “Beer & Food: An American History” (ISBN 0977808610, Jefferson Press, Hardcover, $24.95), argues that industry embellishments and poor research have distorted the true date of Repeal on December 5, 1933, which signified the revocation of the 18th Amendment and the enactment of the 21st Amendment and brought back the manufacture and sale of all alcoholic beverages.
“Congressional events leading up to April 7, 1933 allowed only the resumption of sales for legal beer with an alcoholic strength of no more than 3.2% alcohol by volume (abv), weak by today’s standards. Congress had earlier passed the so-called Cullen-Harrison Bill which redefined what constituted a legally ‘intoxicating’ beverage. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed the bill on March 23, 1933. The bill’s passage took the teeth out of the bite of the Volstead Act of 1919 and raised the Prohibition-era legal limit of alcoholic drinks from .05% abv to 3.2% abv.”
“Bringing breweries back online on April 7, 1933 in states whose legislatures agreed to go ‘wet’ again gave a tremendous shot in the arm of an economy in the throes of the Depression. In just forty-eight hours, $25,000,000 had been pumped into various beer-related trades as diverse as bottling manufacturers to the sawdust wholesalers whose product lay strewn on the floors of saloons. For the first day of nationwide beer sales, it was estimated that the federal tax for beer brought in $7,500,000 to the United States Treasury.”
In the next few months, scores of states held constitutional conventions which led to the passage and enactment of the 21st Amendment, the first time a constitutional amendment had nullified another. It also gave municipal, state and federal governments the time to sort out the taxation and regulation of the entire drink trade, a legacy that continues.
On December 5, 1933, the true end of National Prohibition became a reality when Utah signed on to the Repeal amendment, satisfying the requirement of needing at least 36 states for the enactment of the 21st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.
I certainly admire his tenacity in trying to set and keep the record straight. As a history buff myself, I’m keenly aware that a lot of our history that we take for granted is simply wrong, for a variety of reasons. It’s quite remarkable to contemplate, but much of what was in our history textbooks is simply not correct, not exaggerations or off a little, but completely fabricated or with most of the facts incorrect. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but James W. Loewen’s Lies My Teacher Told Me is a fascinating study on just how wrong is so much of what we were taught in school.
But I’m also a calendar geek (I guess we need a new word for that, too — perhaps holiday head or time bandit?) and the way holidays come about has almost nothing to with reality or the truth of when the events that are being celebrated took place. Christmas is the classic example, with their being no actual certainty when Jesus’ birthday was, and I’ve read accounts placing it in the spring, as well as other times of the year, too. Thanksgiving, if it ever really took place at all, was not when we celebrate it. The Declaration of Independence was actually adopted on July 2, and both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson believed that would be the date we celebrated American independence. It took two more days of making changes to the document which was then ratified with the modifications on the fourth. The rest is, well, history. You get the idea.
But there’s no law or ethic or whatever preventing a group of people from celebrating whatever they want whenever they want. What’s tricky is merely reaching a tipping point where enough other people agree to recognize the date as well. Mother’s Day, for example, is a relatively modern invention, with our version of it originating just after the Civil War, even though its roots are ancient. But different countries celebrate it on very different days. The actual date doesn’t really matter in the end nearly as much as the spirit of what is being celebrated. If we keep alive the notion that prohibition was a failed experiment that exacted a terrible cost on our nation, that legislating morality is a bad idea and you can’t really stop people from doing something that they find pleasurable, then who among us should be bothered by whether it’s remembered on April 7 or December 5? I realize the difference here is that we know with historic certainty that repeal did not take place on April 7, so we should definitely avoid calling it Repeal Day; that honor should go to December 5. But I see no reason not to also celebrate on April 7. With the neo-prohibitionists nipping at our heels once more with the vigor of a junkyard dog, setting aside two days each year to remind our critics that Prohibition will not work and celebrate how much beer enriches our lives, our economy and our society in positive ways seems like a good idea to me. Since it is the day that beer once more legally flowed after thirteen years, we can justifiably called it “The Return of Beer Day” or “3.2 Beer Day” or “Back to Beer Day” or even “New Beer’s Eve” as it was originally known.
To learn more about the history of Prohibition, here are some interesting links:
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
For our 14th Session, the topic has turned decidedly personal. Our host, Stonch, has chosen the topic “beer people” with the knowing wisdom that “enjoying beer is as much about people as it is malt and hops.” It seems great minds do think alike, because I’ve actually been thinking about this a lot lately, but more on that later on.
|
In a broad sense, I think the beer industry and its legions of true fans (oh, what to call them, what to call ourselves?) are all so closely involved precisely because of the people. We may all be drawn in by the beer, but we stay because of the people. I’ve worked in many different industries from the military, music, video, retail, and even the law and I’m here to tell you that far and away the finest people I’ve met are beer people. Sure there are great people everywhere, but there is a much lower ratio of assholes in the beer business than in any other I’ve encountered. So great literalist that I am, I’m going to write today not about a single individual but about the great collective beer people. We’re here and we love beer! |
I’ve been involved with beer since I was a kid, really, and I started thinking about it in a more studied way when I lived in New York City in the late ’70s. My involvement grew again after moving to California in the mid-80s, but became much more serious for at least the last twenty years sometime after I started homebrewing and wrote a bar guide to Silicon Valley in the early 1990s. Since then, I’ve been a beer buyer, contract brewer, festival volunteer, judge, tasting organizer, magazine manager and writer. In all those pursuits, I’ve encountered great swaths of people from all walks of life, socio-economic groups, ages, etc. all thrown together by one commonality: beer.
Having been on the business side of beer for a number of years, I got to know a lot of the folks at distributors, along with brewery sales representatives, brewery owners, merchandisers, marketers. In many ways, it’s a different world from craft world, the big companies have so many layers of people each doing one small part of the whole. And even though I often criticize the big brewer’s products and especially their business practices, for the most part the on the ground employees are usually pretty terrific people. It’s especially true at Anheuser-Busch, where I’ve met enough fine people to be impressed with their hiring methods. And Miller and Coors have some great people working for them, too. Seriously. You might not think so for all my complaining, but notice I’m rarely ranting against the employees, only the policy and decision-makers, and more often the consequences of those decisions.
With the small companies, as you’d expect, there’s a lot of multi-tasking with most employees (and usually the owner/brewer) doing all of the jobs. With them, there aren’t many layers from top to bottom, and as a result there’s much more transparency, warts and all, with the way they operate. But surprisingly, even with being so overworked, most still manage to have a positive outlook. It’s actually quite amazing to me. I’m sure they must be as busy, stressed out and pulled in many directions as any other overworked, underpaid segment of the economy. But for some reason, they manage to be enjoyable company, too, somehow. Not surprisingly, most are someone you’d like to have a beer with, and it’s remarkable to me that this is nearly universal, at least in my experience. It’s the primary reason I’m so supportive of the industry and generally will do whatever I can to extol the virtues of good beer. It may have been the beer that got me involved in the beer world, but it’s the people that keep me passionate about it and make it a joy to be a part of.
Eight days ago, it was Michael Jackson’s birthday. It would have been his 66th. One of the things I always liked about Michael’s writing was how much of the brewer’s story he liked to tell. Oh, there was always a lot about the beer itself, the process by which it was made, and so forth, but at the heart of his writing was always the personal story about the men and women who made the beer. I’ve always thought knowing the back story about the beer and the brewery adds something intangible to enjoying the beer, too. I suppose the more you know about anything, the more or better you’re able to appreciate it. I know there are a lot of people who insist “it’s all about the beer,” but I strongly disagree. Like anything crafted by the hand of man, the beer did not magically appear in a vacuum. The blood, sweat and tears of the brewer are what brought the beer into existence. His experiences and the decisions he made up to the point he made that beer you love has a lot to do with how he made the beer, why he decided to make it that way, and how it tastes. To deny those factors is like trying to appreciate Van Gogh’s Starry Night without knowing anything of his life, his trials and tribulations, his challenges with mental illness, his relationship with his caring brother and so on. For a fascinating illustration of how knowing more about the artist adds to your appreciation, rent the DVD collection the Power of Art by Simon Schama. He takes eight well-known artists’ most famous pieces and give them context, by telling the story of how each painting came to be. It’s an amazing glimpse into the creative process and brewers are no less artists for using a palette of hops, malt, yeast and water.
|
INTERNATIONAL BREWER’S DAY
Ever since I saw this “Have You Hugged A Brewmaster Today?” sticker on the door to the brewery at San Francisco’s 21st Amendment Brewery & Restaurant, the idea of starting a holiday to honor the men and women who make the great beer we love has been percolating in my brain. So I’m proposing now that we set aside a day as International Brewer’s Day, a day to raise a toast and honor all the brewers in the world. For the date, I’m proposing July 18, which is the feast day for St. Anou of Metz (also known as Arnulf, Arnould, and most famously as St. Arnold), one of the patron saints of beer. This is the way holidays begin, just by a group of people deciding to start one and spreading it from there. The real trick is acceptance as a holiday. So I suggest we start out small and on July 18, similar to the Sessions (but only once a year), as many who are interested write about a brewer you feel is worthy of recognition. |
|
I’ll post and send out details later this month and I’ll create some graphics and put up a website for everybody to use and link to. If you like the idea, consider helping to spread the word about it. But in the meantime just think about a brewer you’d like to profile. The idea, in my humble opinion, would be to tell their story in whatever fashion you feel comfortable with, be that an interview, essay, video or what have you. Hopefully, over time it will grow. Perhaps one day there will be events honoring the best brewers out there at breweries, bars and restaurants all over the planet. We probably won’t see cards at Hallmark anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.
Brewers have given so many of us the pleasure of their artistry and enriched our lives with their beer since civilization began. So I think it’s time we recognized their efforts by celebrating their lives, their commitment and their craft. We’re all beer people, but without the brewers what would we be drinking?
As the old Czech saying goes:
“Blessed is the mother who gives birth to a brewer.”
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
I try not to let my personal life intrude too often into the Bulletin, but as regular readers no doubt know, it does happen from time to time. Today is one of those days, because April 2nd has been designated “World Autism Awareness Day” and I’m going to take this opportunity to help make more people aware of it.
When my son Porter was born the night before 9/11 in 2001, we awoke that next morning in the hospital, exhausted and a little nervous at being new parents. Our nurse came to tell us something was going on in New York, and we turned on the television just in time to watch the the plane fly into the second tower. Like everyone else, our lives were changed forever that day, but my life also changed for a very different reason. My son hit all his physical milestones on time, and a few even earlier, as he began walking at nine months. At times he didn’t react to loud noises and we were worried about his hearing, but were reassured after a hearing test declared all was right with his ears. By his first birthday, he wasn’t saying anything yet, but the pediatrician and our friends all told us not to worry, as every kid develops in his own time. We continued to be concerned, but bided our time, fully expecting him to start chattering away at any moment.
Porter at his first birthday party, trying unsuccessfully to drink some Russian River beer.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite that way. By eighteen months, he’d said only a few words, primarily nouns for the things he wanted; food, milk, etc. By age two, things had not much improved and we took him to the Oakland Children’s Hospital. They said nothing beyond a speech delay and suggested we enroll him in preschool where he’d be around other kids who might encourage him to start talking by example. We did just that, and although things did improve somewhat, he continued to lag farther and farther behind his peers in terms of language development. When I’d pick him up, I’d sometimes watch him off playing quietly by himself while the other kids all played together. It was a heartbreaking sight and one which still chokes me up just remembering it. He looked so lonely in those days. He looked like he wanted to play with the other kids, but because he couldn’t talk to the other children he was essentially isolated much of the time.
Just before he turned three, my sister-in-law, a librarian and crack researcher, started noticing other things about Porter, probably because she didn’t see him as often as we did and so they stood out more for her. For example, he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. There were enough other language, behavioral and social skills symptoms on the checklist that fit him that we thought we were finally onto something. So we had a doctor with behavioral expertise examine Porter and also our local school district, who are theoretically bound to provide an “appropriate education” beginning at age 3, did their own analysis. Both came back with a diagnosis of autistic-like symptoms. Despite all the horror stories we’d read about autism, we were at least satisfied that at last we felt we knew what was going on, and that provided some comfort. It was certainly better than having no idea what was wrong. So I quit my job as the GM of the Celebrator Beer News to be home with Porter. He attended a special preschool run by the county where we live and we hired therapists, play tutors, and an occupational therapist. I did flash cards with Porter, read to him and just was there for him as much as possible. Little by little, he improved and began catching up to his peer group. By five, he was nearly caught up, though he was still often the odd kid out because of issues with pragmatics and his poor understanding of social skills. The school district pressured us to have him start kindergarten, but we resisted because we didn’t feel he was quite ready to be thrown into the deep end of the pool. They were worried about their budget; we were worried about our son. They refused to give us any additional assistance (it’s sadly a familiar story) and we considered suing them to force then to follow the law, but decided in the end that the money would be better spent on Porter. So we held him back a year and had him attend another preschool that modeled kindergarten but was more hands on in the hopes that the extra year would make him more prepared to start school.
Five years later at his 6th birthday party, shortly after starting kindergarten.
The extra year ended up being great for him and since we moved to a new school district, we happily now live in a place with a more responsive, caring group of educators. He’s been doing great academically through two report cards and has received all satisfactory and excellent marks. He’s not only caught up with his peers, but is actually doing above average these days, and we couldn’t be prouder of how far he’s come. He still has some social awkwardness and certain difficulty with playing sports and games, and interacting with other kids. He’s made a few friends, and he’s certainly better at it than he used to be, but he may always be the odd kid in his class. Given his parents (you know you were thinking it) that may be inevitable. A more recent evaluation suggests that despite his speech delay he may have Asperger’s Syndrome, a higher functioning spot along the autism spectrum of disorders.
What causes autism is the subject of much heated debate. Personally, I believe that mercury, while certainly not the only cause, is somehow linked to triggering autism. But because of what’s at stake, medical, pharmaceutical and government officials will never (at least not in their lifetime) ever admit that they unwittingly caused a generation of children to become autistic. This failure to even honestly address this possibility is at the heart of what bothers me about all of this. Autism was almost unheard of when I was a kid, but today something like 1 in every 150 kids has some form of it. There are thousands upon thousands of parents who watched their children deteriorate after receiving cocktails of government recommended shots, earlier and more often than during my generation, laced with mercury (as a preservative), one of the most toxic substances on Earth. For an excellent account of this, and the politics surrounding this issue, read Evidence of Harm by David Kirby.
Many autistic kids also have trouble with their stomachs, usually called leaky gut syndrome. A form of a gluten-free diet is sometimes recommended, which is how I originally got interested in gluten-free beer. That’s what led me to write an article for New Brewer last year on these non-barley, non-wheat beers.
But beyond the cause of autism, awareness is growing. There are many fine organizations that have sprung up to spread the word, raise money for research and lobby the government to be truthful. Some of these include the National Autism Association, Autism Speaks, No Mercury, and Safe Minds. There are undoubtedly many more, too. Consider one of them when it comes time to make a charitable donation. If you organize a beer festival and are looking for a charity to partner with, perhaps autism would be a worthwhile one to consider. I’m not familiar with any current beer festivals tied to raising awareness of autism, so perhaps it’s time. I’m certainly willing to help. Thanks for reading.
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
I received my samples of the Miller Lite Brewers Collection a few weeks ago, but I’d been waiting until I spent some time with my wife’s family before giving them a try. I wanted to be fair to these three new beers under the Miller Lite brand, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t go to find much I liked about them. It may seem prejudicial to not go into trying them with an open mind, but I would argue it’s because I have a problem with the low-calorie beer category itself. I’ve never liked them, not just their lack of flavor, but the very idea of them. I find them an abomination, an aberration, a triumph of marketing over good sense. Despite my strong feelings, I felt I could actually still be objective, but to be doubly sure I thought I’d enlist some family members to give me their opinions. Three out of four of my familial guinea pigs routinely drink mainstream brands of beer, and at least one does so almost exclusively. I felt they’ve be able to give me another perspective, one closer to the target demographic than me, at the very least.
So you probably already know Miller Brewing is test marketing—in Baltimore, Charlotte, Minneapolis and San Diego—three line extensions to their Lite beer. All three are aiming to be “craft-style,” whatever that means. There’s a Blonde Ale, Amber and Wheat, apparently redone as low-calorie concoctions. According to the press release, “Miller Lite’s Trio of Craft-Style Light Beers Provides the Best of Both Worlds.” They also introduced the tagline for the launch, “Craft Beer. Done Lite.” The press release goes on to claim the new beers “offer real craft beer taste and true light beer refreshment” and “it offers the best of both worlds for today’s beer drinkers who want a more complex and flavorful beer without sacrificing the refreshment and drinkability to which they’ve grown accustomed.”
According to the Miller-sponsored Brew Blog, the brewers collection will be targeted at lite beer drinkers.
Miller Lite Brewers Collection is aimed at mainstream light beer drinkers and capitalizes on three beer industry trends: the growth of light beer; the growing popularity of craft beer; and consumers’ growing willingness to pay more for products that deliver a unique or better experience. Miller selected the three styles because they are popular among mainstream beer drinkers looking to experiment with crafts.
The particulars included with the samples is also curious and illuminating. All three of the new Miller Lites are 4.2% abv, 110 calories and 6.2 carbohydrates per 12 oz., quite an engineering feat in itself. As competitors, they’ve chosen New Belgium Fat Tire for the amber, Coors’ Blue Moon for the wheat, and Bass Ale for the blonde ale. The calories for these three are, respectively, 159, 169 and 155 against 110 for the Miller Lites. That seems odd to me. Since they’re supposedly making low-calorie beers, why compare them to regular beers? I suppose the reason must be to highlight the difference in calories and carbs, but to me that only highlights the inanity of the low-calorie beer.
Even with the beer with the highest number of calories, Coors’ Blue Moon at 169, there is still only a difference of 59 calories. But let’s call it 60, just to talk about it. 60 calories is essentially one slice of bread, half a grapefruit or a medium-sized artichoke. Big freaking deal! And how much physical activity does it take to burn off those 60 extra calories? Ten minutes of playing tennis, half an hour of driving, or even just 36 minutes of standing still will all burn about 60 calories. But the real yet often unspoken reason people choose to drink light beers is because of the perception that they can drink more of them. So if people are drinking more beers per session, they’re really not actually saving any calories anyway, now are they? You may not find that reason championed in any low-calorie beer’s advertising, but all the companies that make these beers are well aware of this phenomenon in how people perceive them. Also, since they are the beer with the lightest flavor, and thus contain the fewest ingredients, they are also the most profitable in any company’s portfolio. So from a profit perspective—and let’s face it for any large corporation that is the only perspective that matters—these are the perfect product: lowest cost, perceived as healthy, consumed in higher quantities and sold for the same price as regular versions. Ka-ching!
Or as Don Russell (a.k.a. Joe Sixpack) put it in a recent column:
We all know, of course, it’s not really diet beer. Most of the guys you see guzzling light beer are about as fit as a bag of potato chips. People drink it not because they’re counting calories, but because its watered-down, ordinary flavor allows them to mindlessly pound one after the other without the inconvenience of actually tasting the stuff.
I presume that only the blonde is actually an ale, since otherwise they’d call the amber an amber ale, if it used top fermentation. So I assume the amber is an amber lager. The wheat is probably also a lager, though some wheat beers are actually hybrid styles. But I would guess Miller would choose the more simple path of making it in a lager style.
My motley menagerie of relatives. From left: my sister-in-law Margaret (drinks mostly craft but has the occasional mainstream beer), her husband Roddi (who drinks roughly half craft and half mainstream), my brother-in-law Tucker (who drinks mostly mainstream fare) and my wife Sarah (who drinks exclusively craft, of course). The five of us tried all three beers Easter afternoon, and here’s what we thought.
WHEAT
Miller describes the Wheat as offering “especially appealing flavor dimensions, with a subtle citrus character for a clean, refreshing beer.” They list its characteristics as follows:
Here’s what my relatives had to say. “Not a wheaty nose, unpleasant. This doesn’t taste a thing like wheat, it has no sweetness, just bitter. It’s not something I would finish. It doesn’t meet the chug test. It’s a sweet Miller Lite, but not as much as a wheat.” I had to agree with them. It seemed to straddle a middle ground where it was neither a wheat beer nor a light beer. It just seemed confused. I didn’t think it had any of the refreshing qualities that I look for in a wheat beer. It was just thin and watery, with hardly any flavorful character at all.
BLONDE ALE
Miller describes the Blonde Ale as offering “a crispness and slight maltiness that’s balanced by a recognizable hop aroma.” They list its characteristics as follows:
Here’s what my relatives had to say. “It doesn’t look like a blonde. The color’s not quite right. I can barely taste the difference between this and the wheat. The nose reminds me of white wine, and it’s kinda’ sweet. I like it better than the first one.” Is this what Ballantine used to taste like? As the only ale, I think I was expecting more. But it was so similar in taste to the other three, that I was hard-pressed to find any differences. I didn’t get any of the fruity or hoppy character that was listed in the press release. I’ve judged light beers before at GABF and it is a difficult thing to discern between beers, because the flavors are so subtle. Unfortunately, you tend to focus on their flaws, because that’s what stands out.
AMBER
Miller describes the Amber as follows. “The color in the MLBC Amber comes from specially selected caramel and roasted malts; it offers a mild hop character for a bold yet refreshing flavor.” They list its characteristics as follows:
Here’s what my relatives had to say. “Some water, some drink. I like the blonde better. There’s not much there. I don’t get it. If I had to drink one I’d choose the amber.” I didn’t think the color was remotely what I’d call amber. The “I don’t get get it” comment got a lot of play, as my relatives all mused on what Miller had in mind for these beers and who might buy them. The consensus was that they knew craft beer drinkers wouldn’t buy them, but they also couldn’t fathom why mainstream drinkers would. And apart from my wife, the other three regularly drink light beers. They felt that if you wanted craft beer flavors, you’d just buy one of those if that’s what you were in the mood for. The Miller Lite Brewers Collection seemed to please no one. Unfortunately, I think that may be its fate.
Don Russell, again from the same column, where he says if craft beer is jazz, the new beers are Kenny G:
Essentially, Miller is attempting to sell a product that wants it both ways. It’s a product that purports to offer all the complexity, depth and quality of a small-batch brew along with the bland, inoffensive, one-dimensional flavor of a factory-made light beer.
Russell, who I suspect does not think these beers are terrific, is still far more kind to them than I feel I can be. He continues.
If you ask Miller how its beer can be both light and craft, the company deftly explains: “It’s important to note that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers.”
It continues: “Craft drinkers are happy with the choices they have, and they should be. But mainstream light-beer drinkers who want something with a different taste and drinkability are not happy with their options. Traditional craft beers don’t work for these consumers. Miller Lite Brewers Collection will.”
None of the beers are all-malt—each uses corn—according to Miller brewmaster Manny Manuele, in an interview by Stan Hieronymous on his Appellation Beer Blog.
One question about this all-malt issue stood out for me in Stan’s interview:
All-malt is at the core of how “craft” brewers define their products. Would you say you disagree?
First, it’s important to note that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers. Additionally, “all malt” is one, but not the only, criteria that defines craft beer. The Brewers Association describes craft as beers brewed with a traditional process using malted and specialty grains, hops, water and yeast to deliver the aroma, taste and appearance characteristics not typically found in mainstream beers. That’s what we’re delivering — a unique consumer taste experience not typically found in light beers and consistent with craft-style beer.
Hmm, maybe I’m mis-reading that but it sounds like Manuele is suggesting that a brewery could skirt one of the requirements for being considered a craft brewer and still be one. But my understanding of the three-prong definition of a craft brewer (see below) is that all three criteria must be met. Anything less, and you’re not a craft brewer (at least by the BA definition). He interprets the definition of what qualifies as a craft beer as something with flavors “not typically found in mainstream beers” and then suggests that the new craft-style light beers could qualify because they provide a “unique consumer taste experience not typically found in light beers and consistent with craft-style beer.” That’s a pretty tortured bit of logic, I must say. He’s defining by using the negative, saying that since it’s not this, it must be that. Not so fast. Just because something tastes different or isn’t as typical (assuming that point can even be conceded) doesn’t make it something else.
I could make an apple pie with no apples, substituting Ritz crackers, and it might taste something like an apple pie. But I don’t think anyone would let me get away with still calling it an authentic apple pie, because it’s missing a key element of apple pie, namely apples. Likewise, craft beer that isn’t all-malt really isn’t. The only exception to not using all-malt ingredients and having the brew still considered a craft beer is if they “use adjuncts to enhance rather than lighten flavor.” And while Manuele claims they used “wheat and corn for taste, lightness and refreshment” (perhaps trying to combine them), who doesn’t believe that while the wheat may impart taste and refreshment, the corn is only there for lightness.
Craft brewing industry definitions
An American craft brewer is small, independent, and traditional.
Small: Annual production of beer less than 2 million barrels. Beer production is attributed to a brewer according to the rules of alternating proprietorships. Flavored malt beverages are not considered beer for purposes of this definition.
Independent: Less than 25% of the craft brewery is owned or controlled (or equivalent economic interest) by an alcoholic beverage industry member who is not themselves a craft brewer.
Traditional: A brewer who has either an all malt flagship (the beer which represents the greatest volume among that brewers brands) or has at least 50% of it’s volume in either all malt beers or in beers which use adjuncts to enhance rather than lighten flavor.
But it in the end, the Miller propaganda machine keeps pointing out — whenever anybody asks them about what they are — “that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers.” That may be true, but is it a coincidence that this disclaimer does not appear in the press release I received? Is it mere happenstance that the word “craft” is used all over the place in marketing these brands? And that tagline. “Craft Beer. Done Lite.” Is that not meant to convey that they are craft beers? Clearly, Miller wants people not familiar with industry definitions to believe that they are craft beers, or at the very least craft beer-like. They’re counting on mainstream beer drinkers unfamiliar with what it means to be a craft beer to conclude that these are, capitalizing on a resurgence of both interest and sales of craft beer.
If the idea really is to target “mainstream light-beer drinkers who want something with a different taste and drinkability,” I can suggest many true craft beers that fit that bill far better. As for all those extra calories, how about just drink fewer beers of better quality with richer flavor? Let’s just stop pretending that low-calorie diet beers are not a sham.
UPDATE 4.1: The test is over. Miller’s Brew Blog announced today that based on very successful tests in all four markets, the three Miller Lite Brewers Collection beers will be rolled out nationally in September.
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
A new study by a Czech ornithologist, Tomas Grim, in which he studied not the birds that are his usual subject, but his fellow avian scientists … and their beer-drinking habits. The study, published last month in Oikos, was titled A possible role of social activity to explain differences in publication output among ecologists. Here is the abstract:
Publication output is the standard by which scientific productivity is evaluated. Despite a plethora of papers on the issue of publication and citation biases, no study has so far considered a possible effect of social activities on publication output. One of the most frequent social activities in the world is drinking alcohol. In Europe, most alcohol is consumed as beer and, based on well known negative effects of alcohol consumption on cognitive performance, I predicted negative correlations between beer consumption and several measures of scientific performance. Using a survey from the Czech Republic, that has the highest per capita beer consumption rate in the world, I show that increasing per capita beer consumption is associated with lower numbers of papers, total citations, and citations per paper (a surrogate measure of paper quality). In addition I found the same predicted trends in comparison of two separate geographic areas within the Czech Republic that are also known to differ in beer consumption rates. These correlations are consistent with the possibility that leisure time social activities might influence the quality and quantity of scientific work and may be potential sources of publication and citation biases.
Essentially, that can be summarized as “the more beer a scientist drinks, the less likely the scientist is to publish a paper or to have a paper cited by another researcher, a measure of a paper’s quality and importance.”
The New York Times summarized the findings like this:
The results were not, however, a matter of a few scientists having had too many brews to be able to stumble back to the lab. Publication did not simply drop off among the heaviest drinkers. Instead, scientific performance steadily declined with increasing beer consumption across the board, from scientists who primly sip at two or three beers over a year to the sort who average knocking back more than two a day.
But as Dave Bacon, the Quantum Physicist, takes the study (and the Times) to task in a post entitled Ecologists Can’t Handle Their Beer Like Physicists, there are more than a few problems with the study and its conclusions. First of all, the paper studied “avian ecologists,” essentially bird scientists, and extended out the findings to include all scientists, a conceit Bacon didn’t think was very reasonable, writing. “I mean, come on, has anyone ever heard of bird watchers being known for their beer drinking abilities? I suspect if I had to pick the group of scientists least likely to be able to take their beer, avian ecologists would be right up there on my list. Show me a study about Czech physicists damaging their publication record by too much beer consumption, and then you’ll get my attention.”
He continues:
I’d also note that the study covers the amazingly huge sample size of less than twenty, that the beer consumption rates are huge for the outliers (Czech, burp!), that there was no description of the methodology for choosing the survey sample (were they his friends, his colleagues? Since the sample was chosen from the author’s field, it sure sounds like it), that any effect, if it is there, is coming from the very high end of the beer consumption spectra (which is fairly spectacular consumption), and certainly a linear regression seems like a spectacularly poor notion of how beer drinking has an effect on scientific output., and that no attempt to separate out the effect of different quality universities and the different geographic consumption levels was made.
It’s certainly a strange topic to be published in a serious academic journal. Since the author admits to enjoying as many as twelve beers in a single session (making him a binge drinker by American standards), it’s clear he’s not arguing for scientists to drink less. [Note to neo-prohibitionists: notice that Professor Bacon is able to drink more than you think he should and still manages to be a respected ornithologist at Palacky University in the Czech Republic. Let me know when you’re ready to concede your definition of binging is ridiculous, and wrong.] I wonder if the ornithologists only drink brands like Red Tail Ale or one of the other 300 beers with a bird on their label?
Iron Springs Pub & Brewery, Marin’s newest craft brewer, may also be its latest casualty. Their lease is up this August and despite trying to negotiate in good faith to exercise the first of two five-year extensions since last September, their landlords won’t budge on a 60% rent increase. On Monday, the landlords — two wealthy local brothers—rejected a final offer. Now the case is set to go to binding arbitration, but barring a miracle it doesn’t look good for Iron Springs remaining in their present location.
And that’s a damn shame. Not only do they make some terrific beers, but in less than four years Iron Springs Brewing has become the eighth highest revenue generator in the town of Fairfax, and number three in terms of giving back to the community financially. Maybe I don’t understand business very well, but we’re in a recession right now, the real estate market is in freefall, our economy is tanking. That doesn’t strike me as the right time to gouge someone with a 60% rent increase. I’m told that there have been other ways in which the landlords have not dealt fairly, withholding information or not being completely truthful about aspects of the property, and while I can’t corroborate those they seem entirely consistent with this type of short-sightedness. The Plaza where Iron Springs is located once boasted full occupancy, including a large Albertson’s grocery store across the street, all owned by the same family. The grocery store has been empty two years and other tenants are likewise now gone with several more on their last legs. It would appear greed is destroying an entire town.
If you live in northern California—or are planning a visit to the Bay Area—make sure you stop by Iron Springs and show your support this spring and early summer, before it’s too late.
The famed Iron Springs AmBREWlance, which may need saving itself one day soon.
You’ve probably already heard that come this October, Anheuser-Busch will launch yet another Budweiser line extension, Budweiser Ale, which will be available in 12 oz. bottles and three keg sizes. Whatever happened to their promise to shareholders to focus on the core brands? Anyway, they got label approval on St. Patrick’s Day and, according to the label, it will be 5.1% abv. The price point will reportedly be higher than regular Budweiser. They almost launched this beer (or at least a beer with the same name) just over ten years ago, but changed their minds at the eleventh hour.
So who is a Bud Ale aimed at? Just who does A-B think will be the customer for this product? According to an article in last Friday’s St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the target audience is “what A-B’s marketing department calls ‘experimenters’ — drinkers who bounce around among various beers such as Yuengling, Fat Tire, Hoegaarden and Budweiser.”
“They love beer, they just try a lot of different things,” said Dave Peacock, vice president of marketing at A-B’s domestic beer subsidiary. Although Peacock acknowledged that some craft beer enthusiasts won’t try a Bud-branded ale, the company expects that a sizable portion of the market will have no problem with the concept.
I don’t know who A-B’s marketing department is consulting with but most so-called experimenters I know wouldn’t ordinarily switch between so wide a range of products. Yuengling and Bud drinkers—to my way of thinking—tend to be more loyal to their respective brands. As craft beers go, Fat Tire is about as mainstream a beer as one could find and Hoegaarden, since getting the InBev treatment has itself become fairly mainstream for an import. My point is that these are hardly the brands that experimenters switch back and forth between. Even if they’re meant to just be representative, it’s still not the type of brands beer lovers “experiment” with.
To be honest, I’m not thrilled with term “experimenter,” either. In this context it feels condescending and makes it sound like we’re performing science experiments every time we crack open a beer. Most craft beer enthusiasts do like to sample the many different flavors that brewers come up with, or taste new versions of existing styles. That’s part of the better beer culture, trying new and different things. But when I’m out with friends and just enjoying an evening out, I don’t suddenly start drinking one, and only one kind or brand of beer. The reality, at least for myself (and I’m going to hazard a guess that I’m not alone on this), is that people simply don’t just want one kind of anything, not all the time.
Whenever people I meet discover that I’m involved in the beer business, invariably the question they can’t help but ask is “what’s your favorite beer?” This question just exhausts me—I hate answering it—but I put on my brave face and try to explain why I don’t have one, and why I never will. My wife insists that it’s an “opportunity” to educate someone and I suppose she’s right, but I can’t help but view it as someone asking me if I have a favorite child. I know they mean well, but just asking this question says more about them than they realize. That so many people think there is—or should be—just one favorite anything shows how notions of brand loyalty and marketing have worked their way into our thinking. Do people have a favorite food, one food they’d eat every single meal? Of course not, so how is this any different? That so many people find it a reasonable question to ask about beer tells me that not only do they expect that I will actually have one but also that they see nothing wrong with limiting oneself in the face of such diversity. Corporations whose marketing has created such ideas must be absolutely giddy with their success in planting this idea so deeply into our collective psyche.
There are, of course, dozens of very different beer styles and some are better with this food or that, are better during a particular season or weather, or might just be the right match for whatever else we’re doing or what mood we’re in. It’s as if A-B can’t get past their own self-imposed notion that beer is just one thing, the industrial light, nearly half rice lager version of a pilsner that they call beer. To anyone who’s moved beyond that narrow definition of what beer is, there are many different flavors and no earthly reason to stick to just one. That’s not experimentation, but a common sense approach to making beer a part of a diverse, healthy lifestyle that includes many different breads, cheese, wine and all manner of local and artisanal products.
In today’s world, the type of brand loyalty A-B used to enjoy is an anachronism. But creating brand loyalty through expensive advertising and marketing campaigns is what’s made and kept A-B on top. They outspend every other beer company by a wide margin. If you’re a large, old-style corporation you stick with what’s worked in the past, even if the world is changing around you. It would be quite interesting to see what would happen to their market share if their advertising wasn’t a ubiquitous part of our world.
So what will American Ale actually taste like? There’s no actual style known as American Ale, though there are American-style pale ales, amber ales, brown ales and others. I suspect it probably won’t be an all-malt beer, because that would make it too different from the flagship lager. If I had to guess, I’d say a version of a blonde (or golden) ale or perhaps a cream ale, since those are two of the lightest ale styles. To sell it widely, it’s also likely that any hop character will be greatly restrained, to say the least. That would also be consistent with the Budweiser brand.
So will “experimenters” try Budweiser American Ale? Marlene Coulis, A-B’s VP-consumer strategy and innovation, believes it will bring “new drinkers to the Budweiser brand family.” She adds. “We believe this will positively reflect on Budweiser,” she said. “It’ll help us reach a whole new set of consumers.” That sentiment somewhat contradicts Dave Peacock’s acknowledgment that “some craft beer enthusiasts won’t try a Bud-branded ale.” The “sizable portion of the market” that Peacock believes will be down with the concept don’t seem like they’ll be the “experimenters” that they’re targeting with this launch. More likely they’ll be the same consumers who already drink Budweiser. But if the new Bud Ale really is “a darker, richer beer than Budweiser lager,” as Coulis promises, will current Bud drinkers react positively to the beer having flavor?
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pint
If you’re as much of a history buff as I am, you’re no doubt aware that HBO is currently airing a seven-part miniseries on John Adams, based on the popular Pulitzer-winning