Wine Conversations: It's Not Easy Being Green (I)

Sustainability labels: what do they mean, and do they matter?

It’s on me to kick off this second round of Wine Conversations, in which a group of Substack wine writers offer our perspectives on a topic in the world of wine. If you missed the first conversation, check out my post that wrapped up our last topic: How do we get more people interested in wine? It includes links to all the posts in the conversation.

In February we’re tackling the enormous issue of sustainability, and more specifically the designations used in the wine world to indicate particular practices or approaches. The most common terms are sustainable, organic, biodynamic, and regenerative, and each of them have different standards, and even different problems they aim to solve. So how is the average wine consumer supposed to sort through the labels and feel good about what they are buying?

First of all, what do these terms mean?

• Sustainable is to me the fuzziest of these terms, pretty much just the “I have good intentions, or at least want you to think I do” of the wine world. I’m going to throw vague suggestions that a wine is “green” into the same category. It doesn’t mean nothing, because it does indicate that a company has corporate responsibility on its radar and is probably making some less harmful choices, but there’s no accountability here for specific practices or impact. Wineries seeking more transparency about their sustainability measures can be certified through groups like the California Sustainable Winegrowing Alliance, Sustainability in Practice, or Lodi Rules - and in these cases, the community accountability structures can mean these wineries are held to a very high standard of environmental, economic, and social responsibility.

• Organic is actually the easiest to define and regulate, because it involves a specific set of things you can’t do while farming or making wine. Organic viticulture prohibits the use of synthetic pesticides, fungicides, herbicides, insecticides, and fertilizers. During winemaking, organic certifications may limit the techniques and substances that can be used, such as added sulfites. In the United States, the USDA certifies vineyards and wineries as organic, and both the growing of the grapes and their conversion to wine must be certified for a wine to be labeled organic. The European Union has its own slightly different standards, and globally there is no universal definition of exactly what is or isn’t organic.

• Biodynamics goes beyond what you do and don’t add to a vineyard - although it does include strict adherence to organic standards, prohibiting synthetic chemicals. But it’s not just a farming approach; biodynamics is a spiritual, ethical, and ecological cosmology that emphasizes interconnectedness at every stage of the growing and winemaking process. Following moon cycles and burying a variety of preparations packed into cow horns in your vineyard can sound a little nutty, but at its heart, biodynamics recognizes that agriculture is contextual and cannot be separated from animals, other plants, ecosystems, human communities, and ultimately the entirety of the universe around us. Demeter certifies biodynamic agriculture - not just viticulture - around the world, and annually inspects its licensees for compliance.

• Regenerative viticulture can look a lot like biodynamics without the cow horns: livestock and a diversity of plants integrated into vineyards, and economic and social connection and responsibility in addition to sustainability within the vineyard itself. But here the spiritual element turns more toward the practical, emphasizing improved soil quality, increased biodiversity, and carbon sequestration. If you’d like a deeper dive, I wrote a longer post just on regenerative viticulture last summer after I finished a research paper on the same topic for my WSET Diploma. I’ve heard people in the wine world refer to regenerative as a buzzword without real meaning, but certifying organizations like the Regenerative Viticulture Foundation and the Association of Regenerative Viticulture/La Asociación de Viticultura Regenerativa get quite specific about goals, standards, and measurements of progress.

Second, does it matter?

From a growing and winemaking perspective, I would argue that it ought to matter! Wine is an agricultural product, and deeply dependent on the health of the soil, air, water, and ecosystems that surround its production. It’s also a human product, reliant on the health and wellbeing of the individuals and communities that make and consume it. In terms of quality alone, I don’t think any of us would argue that farming approaches that make the maximum quantity of wine with the minimum of labor and cost are leading to wines that inspire us. Consciousness of how wine is connected to its ecological, social, and economic environment is important.

That said, there are many terms that can be used for that consciousness, and each of them can mean a whole lot, or almost nothing. Ted Lemon at Littorai insists his farming is “generative” rather than regenerative, and they’ll probably never be part of any certification, but having visited the farm, I know their practices are as ethically and environmentally informed as any I’ve ever seen. It looks like a biodynamic vineyard, cow horns and all. Some of the best winemakers I know think a lot of these terms are just greenwashing buzzwords, and yet they are integrating many of the practices into their own vineyards.

The difficulty is that you’d never know any of Littorai’s or these other winemakers’ practices from their labels, and this is where certifications help the average consumer. They are shorthand that make it possible to buy wine without doing hours of research into producers. And they help winemakers who use these approaches sell wine to people who care about responsibility.

Like all consumer purchasing decisions, these labels matter as much as the values they represent matter to the person opening their wallet. You’re likely to pay slightly more for wines with certifications, because those certifications require up front costs to convert vineyards, as well as some risk from pests and diseases that might arise without synthetic protections. But the cost might well be considered worthwhile if you want to put your money behind environmentally, socially, and economically equitable and sustainable practices.

But which label to choose?

Let’s be honest: you can make good wine with any of these approaches, labels, or certifications - or none of them. It’s important to note that to some degree, certifications and labels are a marketing tool, and I don’t necessarily mean that in a bad way. Smaller or lesser-known producers can leverage these certifications to get attention from buyers who care about their shared values. Some of those producers I mentioned who don’t use certifications or sustainability labels? Well, they don’t have to. They’re established enough that they don’t need the labels to sell wine, and their loyal customers who care about sustainability are already aware of their practices.

But for wine consumers who want to buy values-driven wine without doing a ton of research, certifications and labels can make buying wine easier. My advice? Look for the specific. “Sustainable” means practically nothing, while the name of a specific certifying organization can tell you a great deal about what is happening in that vineyard and winery. Figure out the label that fits what you care about, and it will make it much easier to buy wine in a way that feels good to you.

Personally, I have a preference for regeneratively grown wines, because they emphasize measurable improvement to soil and ecosystems, and include aspects of social and economic sustainability. I will also look for biodynamic wines, although in personal practice biodynamics tap into spirituality enough to trigger some of my religious trauma. Organics don’t cover enough ethical territory to satisfy my goals, and I only consider “sustainable” to mean anything at all if it’s tied to a more specific initiative. But that’s me, and I look forward to the perspectives - and perhaps corrections! - of my conversation partners in the next couple of weeks. George Nordahl is up next. Cheers!