I’d planned, today, to write about fine research led by Dr. Pascal Chatonnet and company at the French Laboratoire Excell demonstrating disturbingly high phthalate residues in some older French brandies, at least some level of plastic residue contamination in all of the French spirits and many wines they tested, and laying out some really sensible thinking on whether that’s a problem. But instead I find my hackles raised to unignorable degrees by one of the more insulting and ill-advised articles I’ve read on the wine-net recently (and it doesn’t even involve gender!) So here’s an effort to talk about the cost of an MW and plastic residues in wine, both.
From the things that make me spit fire file I offer you the following drivel by Ethan Millspaugh for Grape Collective. The title suggests that we’re talking about “the cost of becoming an educated wine drinker” — a fantastic and fascinating question — but the piece is actually about the cost of making an attempt at the coveted Master of Wine (MW) degree.
Mr. Gillspaugh massively underestimates that price tag at $25,000 (not including travel, not including wines for personal training, not including the time you didn’t spend working, not including babysitters or keeping the right society or purchasing a very good suit), and then suggests to us all that we don’t have to spend that much to become a wine expert. We could spend a very reasonable $60 to attend a WSET-hosted Champagne tasting or something (if, you know, you live in NYC or San Francisco or Chicago). Because really, that’s as good, isn’t it? And hence, once again, we have an opportunity for thoughtful and critical discussion on the internet sunk by smily faces and sheer lack of thinking.
The degree to which attaining the MW is limited to rich (white, preferably European, preferably English-speaking) people is hard to estimate. First, there’s the language issue. While the Institute of the Masters of Wine allows the written theory exam to be written in any language, everything else (study program, practical exam, thesis) is English-only. Then, the Institute headquarters and much of the training is in London, and its heritage is squarely British. And much as wine is becoming very international, it’s fair to say that the residents of some countries will be more interested in highly Eurocentric-trained wine specialists than others. I’m not willing to chalk the notable paucity of MWs in Africa up just to bias and barriers. Nonetheless, the entire continent has three — one in Egypt, two in South Africa, all in the most European of African countries — of 300 total world-wide, and two of those three are British ex-pats. Of five in Asia, only one is asian by nationality; the other four are caucasian and European- or American-born. The overwhelming majority of all MWs, of course, are British.
Scanning the member profiles on the Institute website, another striking thing is their limited range of occupations. Many are in the wine trade, either owning their own distribution company or buying for someone big. Many are self-employed consultants. A few are writers or “educators.” A few with technical backgrounds are now either buying wine or “consulting” in some non-technical capacity. In my thoroughly unscientific random clicking, I happened on not a single MW working in policy, public advocacy, or research.
Which brings me back to Chatonnet’s phthalate research. To put it briefly, the group found these common plastic additives — some of which are known endocrine disruptors that can mess with human hormonal systems — in most of the French wine and spirits they tested. Concentrations in 11% of the wines and 19% of the spirits exceeded accepted safety limits, with older spirits generally the worst offenders. Epoxy linings in storage tanks are the source; the solution is replacing old tanks with new phthalate-free ones or even retrofitting old tanks with a simple barrier coating — which they’ve developed, because that’s how awesome this team is.
Maybe the industry, now that they know, will get on that. But I hear from researchers over and over again that convincing wineries to heed such recommendations is one of their perennial banes. What if MWs were involved in helping to advocate for this sort of change?
What do MW’s have that PhDs in enology don’t? Highly public profiles. Broad, international wine industry knowledge. Extraordinarily strong networks. Often excellent communication skills (sporadic among scientists, unfortunately). Lots and lots of prestige. It’s really no mystery why MWs aren’t out leveraging all of those skills to improve awareness and policies around wine science and wine research. The MW is a general industry degree, not a technical one. MWs can earn much higher salaries elsewhere. All very understandable. I don’t want to believe that that has anything to do with the social elitism of being an MW, even if I suspect that it does.
And yet, what if — what if — someone decided to use an MW as a force for public good? I don’t have any specific plans or calls to action here. But with 300 exceptionally trained, driven, collegial wine lovers and more working up through lower levels of the pipeline, I’m sure someone has some ideas.