Epicure
P
IMAGES COURTESY OF SHUTTERSTOCK
erhaps it is “time.” Rather, it
is time. As many traditional
tyrannies go, quite crudely
I might add, there is a
so-called revolutionary
changing of the guard (violent or
otherwise), followed by a celebrated
rise and initial rule where everyman
is held as the victor (by the rulers
and everyman alike). Then, there is
a lull, where complacency has set in
but favor begins to waver. This is
followed by a volatile period when
rule is questioned, but time-andagain re-established by brute force
or sheer power. Finally, a new age
cued to by a bang (overthrow) or
a whimper. In the case of Robert
Parker’s reign, it seems to be the
latter, a waning presence punctuated
by the occasional outburst from both
sides of the argument. And while his
impact is undying — the effect
Before we get into the nitty gritty,
let’s make one thing very clear.
As crudely (again outlined above),
Parker is revolutionary, and without
him and “The Wine Advocate,” wine’s
inclusion into the mainstream would
have happened a lot slower, if at all.
Now in his late sixties, Parker,
former lawyer-turned-Dionysusianwine-scorer, has inscribed himself
not only into history books, but
irreversibly onto store and cellar
shelves. His official position among
the rank of critics has publicly
lessened — he recently sold off
a significant part of “The Wine
Advocate,” and passed down his
Editor in Chief title to long-time
Australian correspondent Lisa
Perrotti-Brown — yet his 35 years
as undisputed leader of the
consumer wine guide (and consumer
wine in general, for that matter) has
determined drinking tendencies of
countless millions of people. His
subscription-based newsletter now
reaches 50,000 people across the
United States, as well as in 37
countries worldwide.
As almost anyone and everyone
reading this will likely know, Parker’s
scoring system is based on a 100
point scale, a 50 to 100 point range
that has plenty of room for both the
extraordinary (95 to 100, though
Parker admitted the difference here
is largely emotional) as well as the
unacceptable (50 to 59). American
culture being one that craves the
easily quantifiable, this man’s final
say was, indeed, all of our final say.
You might liken it to Ralph Nader,
or for our purposes, Robert Finigan.
Though there were predecessors,
including 20 point pioneer Dr.
Maynard A. Amerine, none were as
quickly and unquestioningly accepted
as Parker. After all, Parker made it
easy. By employing a standardized
format — remember standardized
testing in high school? — there was
an unprecedented familiarity and,
more importantly, relatability about
wine. Novice drinkers no longer
needed a palate to be a snob.
And it extended well beyond the
demand side of consumer culture. In
fact, in its transcendence of mere
opinion, it was accepted as gospel,
reaching and influencing even
winemakers. Why wouldn’t it? Elin
McCoy, author of The Emperor of
Wine: The Rise of Robert M. Parker
Jr., cites one Bordeaux shipper who
claimed that “the difference
between a score of 85 and 95 [for
one wine] was 6 to 7 million Euro.”
However, there were issues with the
100 point scale. First and foremost,
the so-called Parker Effect favors
robust, fruity bombs — the taster
has a well-documented obsession
with Bordeaux and Rhône wines —
as opposed to the more subtle and
arguably more elegant varietals.
The Parkerization of wine was
homogenization of the palate. We
were told to like a certain kind, and
as blind consumers do, we thereby
liked that certain kind, the one
Parker was keen to enjoy. Then there
was the bigger problem with the
system itself. His upgrade from the
Davis System (which deducted points
for wines lacking in certain
qualities) was an upgrade in the way
of “proportionately” (according to
Parker) weighing wine’s different
components — 50 base; up to 5
points for color and appearance,
15 for aroma and bouquet, 20 for
flavor and finish, and 10 for overall
— but was still subjective and,
quite frankly, arbitrary. It should
be duly noted that these scales
don’t take actual wine’s nuanced
characteristics into account.
They merely assigned values
to general traits.
Also, it is no longer the seventies
and eighties. Whereas back then,
there were far fewer wines to
choose from, increased accessibility
makes employing a system like the
100 point scale narrow-minded.
Additionally, a by-product of all this
scoring and (let’s call it what it is)
marketing is that the American
Public is now better educated,
curious and prone to make their
own decisions on the only major
service Parker offered, tasting it
for themselves.
Parker has admitted: “No scoring
system is perfect, but a system that
provides for flexibility in scores, if
applied by the same taster without
prejudice, can quantify different
levels of wine quality and provide
the reader with one professional’s
judgment. However, there can never
be any substitute for your own
palate nor any better education
than tasting the wine yourself.”
In the end, the Parker Effect is
exactly that — the Parker effect.
Without the eponymous founder
around, “power” is returned to the
people, or in this specific situation,
to critics who were largely ignored
by the 100 point scale. As for “The
Wine Advocate,” Parker will continue
tasting and embracing Bordeaux and
Rhône wines. But since PerrottiBrown is based out of Singapore,
and has spent over a decade in Asia,
she will undoubtedly be influenced
by those preferences. And those
preferences are evolving. China,
an undeniable wine superpower
these days, began this landscapealtering obsession in Bordeaux and
like-bodied wines of equitable
reputation. But it has matured
to explore other regions, including
their own, in a home-grown
winemaking in