Memo to wine-scoring systems: pound sand - part 1 - using the 100 Point System in evaluating wine

PART I

When things can't get worse, they usually get better. It's true of the stock market, recessions, the weather, American-built cars, and life in general. It's also true of wine scoring systems. The trick, though, is to figure out when you're actually at the bottom. A few people can do it, and they're making good money, but for the rest of us prophesy remains a lost art. Most anyone can, however, figure out when we're at the bottom of the wine scoring system. We're there right now.

Now, there's nothing wrong with taking a number from 50 to 100 and using it as the sole descriptor of a wine. Nothing wrong, that is, unless you'd like to find out something about the wine.

I've thought long and hard about the merits of the so-called "100 Points System" and I've discovered some excellent benefits for the wine collector (a category, quite distinct, by the way, from the wine drinker).

For example, using this simple method of evaluating a wine saves the nuisance of visiting the wine store -- just call up your wine merchant and have him ship you every 95+ wine he can lay his hands on. You don't have the tedium of evaluating wines yourself. In fact, you avoid the bother of having an opinion at all: why not simply rely on someone else's. It's a particular boon for collectors who aren't handy with a cork-screw, because they'll never need one . . . they wouldn't drink the wine anyway. The list goes on.

Now having said that, I've considered the merits of the 100 Point System for the wine drinker. There are none. There are, however, a number of disadvantages and I'd like to cover some of them; but before I do, let me assure you that I'm not trying to be negative here. In Part II I'll discuss a system that judges wine well.

But first, what don't wine scores alone tell you?

1) The 100 PS is based on the premise that if one wine seems to be better than another, it is, and it deserves a higher score (even if only 1 point out of 50 higher). Just like science and sporting events, right? I'd be inclined to agree if the same precision could be duplicated in another blind tasting, under the same conditions, at another time and place, and by the same panel of judges. They won't, they can't, they never have been, and they never will be. Why? Because we're not dealing with facts when we judge wines.

Scores work fine for dog races, math tests, fruit fly populations, track and field events, white blood cell counts, and quantum mechanics. Not for wine. Not only do wines appear different to different people under different conditions -- they often appear different to the same people under the same conditions at different times. That's because we change and the wine itself changes.

2) The 100 PS doesn't take into account the price of a wine. A $5 wine might be an 82 and a $60 wine a 96 (you can bet that any wine over 95 costs close to a day's wages for the average guy). But is it a better value for the money? Hard to tell from the points.

3) The 100 PS doesn't describe the wine or tell you what it's like. Two wines scoring 85 might be totally different: different color, flavor, origin, varietal, intensity, and so on. Hard to tell by looking at the points.

4) The 100 PS judges all wines according to the same criteria -- it has to, and it wouldn't be fair if it didn't; but the usefulness of scores is limited for that very reason. (Admittedly, objective criteria have some value: there are flawed and faulty wines that are so regardless of criteria).

5) The 100 PS doesn't consider wine enjoyment. Scores alone don't tell you if a wine's delicious. I've tasted 98 point wines which didn't invite another sip, let alone another glass. They were huge, tannic, opulent, rich, and concentrated: you could stand a knife up in them. They were impressive. But they didn't offer much enjoyment, and I wondered if they ever would.

On the other hand, I've tasted low 80s wines that were lovely, gave me pleasure, and tasted wonderful. They weren't profound; they were simply delicious, and I could (and did) enjoy glass after glass. Both were equally great wines in their own way. One was the Mahler of all wines, the other a Mozart.

6) The 100 PS rates wine by formula. And winemakers are tacitly encouraged to conform their wines to this formula . . . at least, if they'd like to sell their wine. The formula's no secret: the higher the rating, the fuller, fatter, more concentrated, and more intense the wine. And the oakier it is. Most wine writers are suckers for oak. They can't get enough of it: the oakier the wine, the higher the score. Consequently:

7) The 100 PS discourages regional character, varietal diversity, and winemaker individuality. Instead of promoting homogeneity, wine writers should encourage heterogeneity -- wines that speak of a time and place, of soil and of a creator with a vision -- and reward them accordingly. Who cares, after all, if a wine comes from Italy, France, the U.S., or anywhere else, if it all tastes the same?

8) The 100 PS suggests that scores are truth: why have a guideline when you can have certainty? They take wine judging out of the realm of informed opinion and into domains traditionally reserved for God and other omniscient beings. That's fine, as we noted above, for the wine collector: he probably won't drink his collection any more than a stamp collector will use his stamps for postage. But for the rest of us, worth-by-proclamation discourages personal judgement: after all, why risk being wrong when it's so easy to be right?

9) The 100 PS treats wine as an artifact, not as a beverage to be enjoyed within the context of food, pleasure, or, for that matter, anything else. Wine consequently becomes an end in itself, not a part of a happy and healthful lifestyle.

10) And above all, the 100 PS doesn't encourage wine drinking. A 95 wine is too rare, expensive, and sacred to drink; anything else is second-best, so why bother drinking it?

All in all, I'd give the 100 Point System a 60. Or maybe a 55 . .. no . . . make that a 57.5.

If there is a bright lining to this whole story, it's that more experienced wine drinkers are beginning to get fed up with the 100 PS. I know retailers are, because scores demean their noble profession: after all, why buy wine on the personal recommendation of a merchant with a lifetime of experience when you can resort to infallible authority; or why hire a wine expert when all you need's a guy to hang numbers on the rack?

And I sure as hell know wineries are: I and my peers want to make wine that's expressive of the terroir, not of a formula.

I personally know several wine drinkers who've had the temerity once or twice to crack the cork of a 95 point sacred cow and discover they didn't particularly like it. (Lucky for them . . . they couldn't have gotten more anyway: it's all stashed in the wine collectors' cellars.)

There's also a growing number of wine drinkers who've been enjoying wine for some years; they've begun to trust their own palates and are developing a personal sense of style. (They might, in fact, even feel comfortable basing their preferences on emotional factors -- God forbid! -- such as wines from a region they've visited and enjoyed or wines that remind them of happy times.) They know what they like and don't like, thank you very much, and don't solicit the patronage of pundits.

All said and done, however, there is a need for informed wine criticism. We wine drinkers need and deserve publications that expand our horizons, add to our knowledge, increase our enjoyment, and, yes, separate the wheat from the chaff: publications that increase our zeal to drink wine. These publications exist. And some even employ variations on the 100 PS accompanied by text to great advantage. In Part II I'll examine some.

(Patrick Campbell is the proprietor of Laurel Glen Vineyard on Sonoma mountain. To be continued. Copyright 1992.)

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