GUEST COLUMN / Tom Bruce-Gardyne: Defining Moment

12 October 2006 By db staff writer

“standfirst”>"According to Diageo, vodka is made from ‘the cheapest available substrate’, not a  phrase you see on too many back labels" – Tom Bruce-Gardyne (Drinks Writer)

There has a been a great deal of soul searching among spirits recently, a lot of staring in the mirror seeking definition. The rules governing where and how different spirits are produced is on the agenda in Brussels right now while the so-called “vodka war” rages outside. The Poles, Swedes and Finns want to limit the drink’s ingredients to spuds and grain. The Brits and French don’t, or at least the big producers like Diageo don’t. Their biggest brand, Smirnoff, would not be affected, being made from wheat in the UK. In fact, it might even benefit if a low-cost rival like Glen’s Vodka, made of sugar beet, had to call itself Glen’s industrial spirit.

According to a memo from Diageo there are, “no traditional raw materials associated with the word ‘vodka’”, and the only common factor is that they are “the cheapest available substrate”. This last phrase is not something you see on too many back labels, certainly not that of Cîroc, the highly priced, grape-skin vodka that sparked off the war in the first place. Diageo’s head of external affairs warns of an impending trade dispute with the US if the EU acquiesces to Polish demands. The Poles speak of defending tradition. Yet the real issue, of course, is money and who controls the spirit’s vast and growing market in Europe.

For all the hot air, the most likely outcome when the new definitions are unveiled next year will be no change. In truth, it would be almost inconceivable for Brussels to decree that the third of vodka not made of potatoes and grain could no longer be called vodka. Once such a category becomes totally generic it is virtually impossible to tighten the rules. As with Cheshire cheese, Yorkshire pudding and London dry gin, the horse bolted years ago. Which begs the question why on earth the Poles don’t copy Scotch whisky and create “Polish vodka”. Maybe they fear punters would not be able to tell the difference in a spirit that is, by one definition, “odourless, colourless and tasteless”.

All this raises the issue of whether it is better to be tightly defined with one’s integrity intact like Scotch, or to be loose and global like vodka. And better for whom? If you are Mr Tesco it must be great to be able to source your own-label vodka from wherever is producing “the cheapest available substrate”. Though probably less so for suppliers, especially when invited to enter one of the supermarket’s e-auctions where the lowest bid wins. You may lose out simply because of fluctuating exchange rates.

By contrast, Scotch appears better protected against retailer power forcing down the spirit’s price and prestige, or so you would think. For starters, the supermarkets cannot go outside Scotland nor can they reduce the strength to 37.5% abv and save themselves 70p a bottle in duty and VAT. They also have to wait like everyone else for the spirit to be legally Scotch after its minimum three years in cask. Yet when you see a row of supermarket entry-level spirits behind those plain, white labels, the Scotch looks as cheap and industrial as the gin and vodka. So, not much protection there.

Indeed, some suggest that Scotch whisky has been hampered by its rigid rules when competing with a loosely defined spirit like vodka in the UK. Clearly there is a strong counter-argument that the laws governing Scotch have served the drink well and should not be tinkered with. But why not at least consider a new sub-species of whisky with more relaxed rules on ageing and the use of flavourings?

The Scotch Whisky Association (SWA) is not moving in that direction. Since December 2003 and the demise of Cardhu Pure Malt, its members have spent hours debating the precise definitions for the various types of Scotch. Blends and single malts were okay, it was the one in the middle that posed the problem, the one previously called “vatted malt”. That sounded too ugly for marketing purposes, while the term “pure malt” was taboo after the Cardhu affair. Months later, presumably having blitzed their way through Roget’s Thesaurus, they came up with “blended malt Scotch whisky”. With consumers already confused about “blends” and “malts”, will such a term spread light and understanding? I don’t think so, and I suspect neither does the SWA deep down.

That’s all water under the bridge now, but it does highlight the danger of getting hooked on definitions. It is somehow reminiscent of New Labour endlessly obsessing about what’s best for the party rather than the country. Instead of navel gazing, an industry must be outward looking and creative. When Jim Cook, business development director at Glenmorangie spoke at the recent Innovation Forum hosted by the drinks business, he mentioned the word “legislation” no less than three times. As Edwin Atkinson of the Gin & Vodka Association wondered, did he feel constrained by the rules?

The debate about definitions is not just about spirits of course. Time and again I have heard French and Italian wine producers complain of having to fight with their hands tied, while the New World can irrigate, use oak chips and plant where they like. The one great exception is Champagne, a region that has made a real virtue of its strict definition.

© db October 2006