Your Words Matter a Waffle Lot

Who's shaping the wine industry narrative, and how can we reclaim it?

Recipe for having an existential meltdown:

1. Glance at the news.

2. Read about Meta’s decision to end fact-checking and Elon Musk probably buying TikTok.

3. Contemplate for one second the ways that politicians use words—especially over social media—to shape a flat-out bullshit batshit evil maniac sociopath narrative that PEOPLE BELIEVE. BECAUSE WORDS.

My kiddo came home from Sunday School a few weeks ago with a cute craft; it was a foam waffle with little construction paper butter and syrup drizzles on a paper plate, and it had a bubble-letter reminder message glued over the top: “Your words matter a waffle lot!” Adorable. They’d talked that day about how the words you use impact both yourself and others around you, and how kindness and truth were crucial, as was positive self-talk even—especially!—when you were feeling discouraged. I had, coincidentally, just the day prior heard a reference to the Monster Study, where children without any speech impediments eventually developed a stutter after being repeatedly told that they had one. Controversy aside, the study demonstrated clearly the power of words. Lies or truth, they literally become our reality. For whatever reason, regardless of its veracity, if humans hear a message enough times, they will begin to believe it.

Fascists and oligarchs know this. It’s why they’re all so eager to control the messaging we absorb most frequently and comprehensively today. [Cue existential meltdown!]

Which got me thinking about current narratives and rhetoric in the wine industry. If we’re all freaking out over the doom narratives swirling around wine, repeating those messages at and between ourselves, yet while continuing to produce and market our products in the same ways, we’re going to lose. I’m not saying we should blithely ignore data points that say sales are down or that margins are getting slimmer or that climate-change-driven natural disasters are making every vintage more impossible to maneuver—I’m not advocating for deranged denial—but I’m interested in considering our words and how we use them to shape reality. I’m interested in the messaging we’re proliferating to our peers and, more importantly, potential wine lovers and buyers. I’m interested in taking back the narrative, and I’m interested in “saving the wine.”

Currently, the narrative feels controlled by the World Health Organization’s Global Alcohol Action Plan 2022-2030 (I’ve already gone on about my disdain for it) and journalists in major news outlets who, true to major news outlets, publish negative news because that shit sells. The more dire the headline, the more clicks. The more scary and suggestive the content, the more read-throughs. The more controversial and fear-stoking the takeaway, the more readily we’ll read any updates or follow-up pieces.

I’m wondering why they want us to be so fearful. Who wins when we’re all scared and scrambling to protect ourselves? And why do they want us to stop enjoying an artisanal agricultural beverage that’s been part of the community-fostering social fabric of humanity for 8,000 years? Why are they focused so adamantly on their anti-alcohol campaign and not on topics like ultra-processed foods and industrial farming or how social media is devastating mental health?

I’m wary of sounding like a conspiracy theorist surmising that the WHO must be backed by lobbyist pharmaceutical and biotechnology companies who stand to make a dollar, but… oh wait….

Given that the wine industry I’m interested in (the one made up of small growers and makers who generally practice the tenets of resiliency) doesn’t have any real lobbying power to make a dent, I’m considering then, what we can control. I’m remembering that “our words matter a waffle lot.” I’m curious what it would look like if we ALL collectively took a conscious, intentional, deeply uncomfortable and wildly countercultural step in a new direction. What if everyone who writes or communicates about wine this year refused to give a story or make a comment supporting the negative rhetoric? What if, when asked to comment, we took the story in another direction and responded with what’s going great for us and our peers and how beautiful these wines we have the distinctly human privilege to enjoy are? Having worked as a legitimate news editor and writer before launching my own wine businesses, I know that if you can’t get a comment to support your argument, you don’t have a piece. I’d like to halt these negative pieces.

It’s a symptom of burnout (which I very much believe the entire wine industry is in right now) to not be able to see the light, to not have any capability to recognize what’s going well, so I get it that we’re all too eager to pipe up and commiserate about the shitstorm we smell swirling around us. Misery loves company. And I myself am one of the biggest proponents of stirring up hard conversations around challenges so that we can normalize, demystify, and destigmatize them in order to chart positive forward progress together. But just as I learned through my tenure steering our non-profit, Bâtonnage, it’s no good to simply vent. Pity parties get us nowhere other than hungover. And nobody on the outside wants to join a pity party! They just look upon the participants sadly.

We need to build periods of rest into our business models so that we can recover from burnout, and then we need to have conversations among ourselves where we’re forthcoming about our challenges and where we propose innovative and pragmatic solutions for positive, forward progress. FWIW, if you’re looking for resources, I really love how Areni Global does this.

And then, MOST IMPORTANTLY!, we all need to get on our unified-front PR campaign. And that campaign—the words that matter a waffle lot and that we repeat again and again until the audience accepts them as truth!—needs to be that the wine industry is in the middle of an incredible and exciting rebrand that’s making wine more accessible for all audiences and that’s acting as an inspiring bellwether for other industries who make consumer products. I don’t think this is a false narrative; I believe that this is already true, and we just need to recognize our own efforts and continue to keep our chins up while repeating the message. Evidence to back the claim (and talking points you can use):

1. Resilient wine brands are led by more diverse people than ever. Women, people of color, LGBT+, differently-abled and neurodiverse individuals are launching and working with exciting wine businesses that prize their unique insights while also learning how to enable their greater success. Rather than cancel culture tearing down those who misstepped, we can spotlight those who are taking bravely awkward steps forward. Bravo.

2. Organic, biodynamic and various sustainability certifications are being pursued by wine growers at an impressively increasing rate. Curiosity and experimentation with improved farming practices continues to grow exponentially across the entire wine industry, opposite the trends in farming of other commodity crops. Amazing.

3. Transparency around production techniques, additives or corrections, and ingredient labeling is growing, with even large wine companies feeling consumer pressure to manipulate their wines less and share product info more. Huzzah!

4. Margins may be slimming, but consumers are increasingly understanding of what goes into the real cost of a bottle of wine and why we must charge it, even if they can’t afford as much as often. As resilient brands, we are increasingly understanding that we must charge the real cost rather than continue to make believe we can make do with less and are able to sacrifice our own or our employees’ living wages and health insurance. Good on us.

5. Younger customers are appropriating an evolved style and definition of wine into their own unique lifestyle, opening up ample opportunities for progressive brands and cycling us back to point 1. Rad.

6. Every single person who loves wine has experienced the transformative, grounding, soul-nourishing and singular way that wine brings people together and fosters genuine community. In this epidemic of loneliness (take that, WHO!), that counts for something tremendous. Righteous.

There are more, surely, and I’d love to hear in the comments about what other stories of joy and positive energy you’re finding in your work in or enjoyment of wine. And even if you don’t comment, or you’re still completely preoccupied with how much it smells like a fresh dump up in your world, I encourage you to remember, when people ask you “How’s it going in the wine industry?” that you fell in love with wine at some point for some wonderful reason. Remember that “your words matter a waffle lot,” and make the decision not to validate the negativity but instead to share the joy.