Villian of the Pièce

When winemaking and cancel culture collide, to drink or not to drink?

I rode home with one of those gloriously uninhibited taxi drivers recently. Brazenly dishing out unfiltered opinion, he segued effortlessly from Brexit to Gary Glitter. “I still love the music, but I don’t give a fuck about the person,” he said. Then he added, a little mournfully, “I don’t listen to it as much anymore, though.”

The implied dilemma was clear. How do you react when your favourite musician, actor or other miscellaneous famous person disgraces themselves? Can you detach the art from the artist? Or is the work off limits once its creator falls short of being a decent human being? In an age where cancel culture can destroy careers faster than the UK government changes leaders, this question matters not just in terms of art, or even in terms of Russell Brand’s stand-up. It affects wine, too.

Thanks to worldwide distribution and our irresistible urge to transform artisans into cult figures, humble vignerons have become global superstars. And they are no more or less likely to misbehave than A-list celebs. Sancerre natural winemaker Sébastien Riffault probably wishes he was a bit less famous right now. Accused of sexual harassment in 2022, Riffault took to the courts and won a defamation case, which has now gone to appeal. In October 2023, journalist and author Aaron Ayscough reported that Riffault threatened him with violence if he didn’t take down a published article dealing with the affair. Not a great look. The continued bad press has led to restaurants, importers and retailers de-listing his wines.

Riffault is currently adrift in the same leaky boat as Kevin Spacey. Neither has been prosecuted on any charge, but the whiff of scandal has a long finish. Visiting a natural wine shop in Lisbon, I chatted with the woman who was on duty. “We still have Riffault on the shelf, but I’ve stopped recommending it to anyone,” she said. Even though I sympathised, I pointed out that he had not been proven guilty of any offence. But for her, the reputational damage had been done.

We’ve been here before. Puglian biodynamic producer Valentina Passalacqua experienced the same kind of public outcry and boycotting in 2020 when her father was arrested for alleged use of illegal labour gangs. A thousand fervent Instagrammers professed they would never touch her wines again, even though Passalacqua eventually proved that she had done absolutely nothing wrong. Krista Scruggs, owner of Vermont-based Zafa Wines and a poster child for black and queer-owned wineries, was dropped by her New York distributor in 2021 following repeated allegations of sexual harassment. Friulian wine fans with long memories may recall the 2013 YouTube videos of sommeliers smashing bottles of Fulvio Bressan’s wines in the street, after the winemaker posted racist remarks on Facebook.

Conscious consumer choices are one thing, but the public destruction of something purchased pre-scandal seems like a knee-jerk reaction too far. This is virtue signalling at its most pointless. Opening a bottle is not the same as watching an actor or listening to a singer. Wine exists beyond the embrace of its creator. You don’t see their face or hear their voice when you drink it. Furthermore – assuming you buy into the terroir concept – wine is as much a product of nature as it is of the winemaker. I don’t wish to be an apologist for Bressan’s outbursts or the alleged actions of Riffault or Scruggs, but if you thought their wines were delicious when you bought them, aren’t they still? The individual may have been tarred, but the liquid in the bottle hasn’t changed.

Sometimes wounds need time to heal. Let’s hope that wine doesn’t require as long as music though. Wagner devotees will be aware that the seminal German composer was an outspoken antisemite, whose work was posthumously adopted by the Third Reich as the official soundtrack to many state events. Hitler worshipped Wagner’s oeuvre and felt that it was a potent symbol of national socialism. Yet most opera fans and historians would contend that the music has outlived and transcended these unwelcome associations. What about iconic Croatian-American winemaker Mike Grigich, who passed away just short of his 101^st birthday in 2023? He will go down in history as the man who made Château Montelena 1973, one of the Californian Chardonnays that triumphed at the 1976 Judgement of Paris tasting. But who still recalls that he was sued by three female former employees for sexual harassment in 2003? All three cases were settled out of court the following year, so we will never know if there was any wrongdoing. It would be much simpler if all potential villains were as unrelentingly awful as Glitter.

Taking a stand on something when you don’t and can’t know all the facts is always dangerous, especially if the reason for going public is to show that your own ethical credentials are in order. On the one hand, as a good friend of mine always says, why buy wine made by someone who is – or might be – an arsehole? There are so many alternatives. On the other, it can be difficult to know where to draw the line. Spend any amount of time in the bucolic, rural parts of the world where great wine is made, and you’ll probably unearth a whole host of unreconstructed and likely unpalatable views on life and politics. Just how far do you need to ideologically align with the creator of your preferred beverage?

The only cast iron solution is to simply not know too much about the individual behind your favourite bottle. Most people are fallible if you dig deep enough – they just don’t disgrace themselves in the public eye. A potential hazard of my job is that I get to meet many winemakers who were once my heroes. Some are amazing human beings and share my views on life, the universe and everything. But there are others I wouldn’t want to meet down the pub – and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. So I try to separate the art from the artist, with varying degrees of success.

Clearly, there is also a sliding scale of arsehole-ness. Child pornography or rape are sufficient cause to overrule anything I previously said. Go ahead and smash your bottles, and make sure it’s on TikTok. But when we get into the murky waters of political viewpoint, gossip or allegation, I would advise caution. Virtue signalling on the wrong track can derail you.

As for Riffault? I never cared for the wines, so it’s ‘no comment’ from me. If I come across that cabbie again, I’ll get him to weigh in on the matter.

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Originally published in Noble Rot, Issue 34.