Do We Need Another Score?
Michelin enters the vineyard. But does the wine world need another hierarchy — or a deeper understanding of excellence in a changing climate?
Michelin has announced that beginning in 2026, it will award one, two, or three “Grapes” to wine estates—first in Burgundy and Bordeaux, then eventually beyond. It sounds momentous. Michelin already shapes how we dine and travel; extending that influence to wine feels like the next chapter in a story they’ve been writing for more than a century.
But wine is not cuisine.
A vineyard is not a dining room.
And excellence cannot be replicated, controlled, and plated in the same way night after night.
So before we absorb this new benchmark into the landscape, I want to examine it carefully.
What exactly will Michelin evaluate?
And is that evaluation aligned with the way wine must now be made?
What Michelin Plans to Measure
Inspectors—drawn from sommelier, critic, and winemaking backgrounds—will assess estates across five criteria:
Agronomy
Technical mastery
Identity
Balance
Consistency across vintages
Several of these pillars are constructive and long overdue.
But one of them exposes a fundamental misunderstanding of what wine has become—and what it needs to survive.
Consistency Across Vintages: Where It Makes Sense and Where It Doesn’t
Let’s start with fairness. There are regions where consistency is not only desirable—it is the entire point.
Non-vintage Champagne is built on consistency.
The job of an NV bottling is to preserve a recognizable house style year after year. And that is achieved through enormous technical and logistical resources:
deep reserve wine libraries
multi-vintage blending
wide vineyard sourcing
a philosophy rooted in continuity over transparency
Consistency here is not a marketing claim.
It is craftsmanship.
But outside of regions built on this model, the expectation collapses.
In terroir-driven regions—Burgundy, Sancerre, Etna, Stellenbosch, the Douro, Sonoma, Priorat—variation is not failure. It is the vintage speaking.
A single-vineyard Pinot Noir should not taste the same in a heat year as it does in a cool one.
A Syrah from a dry-farmed, drought-stressed site will always show the season’s imprint.
A volcanic island white will mirror every shift in wind pattern, rainfall, and temperature swing.
Variation is not inconsistency.
Variation is truth.
And a scoring system that rewards uniformity may inadvertently reward manipulation rather than authenticity.
But the deeper problem isn’t “consistency” itself.
It’s that we no longer live in a world where consistency is even possible for most regions—even if they wanted it.
Climate, Fire, Drought, and the New Face of Wine
Wine is now grown against a backdrop that refuses to stay stable. The climatic assumptions that shaped 20th-century winemaking no longer hold.
Regions once considered too cold are now thriving.
England’s sparkling wines are the clearest example—lifted not by novelty, but by warming conditions that transformed marginal land into viable territory.
Regions long considered reliable are now facing volatility they were never built for.
Producers everywhere are navigating:
erratic heat spikes
compressed ripening curves
unfamiliar phenology
earlier or dangerously late harvest windows
severe drought stress
rain arriving at precisely the wrong time
frost seasons that come too early or too late
And over all of this looms fire.
Chile, California, South Africa, Australia, and Mediterranean Europe now live with:
vineyards directly threatened by wildfire
smoke taint compromising entire vintages
water allocations cut dramatically
soils stressed by consecutive years of drought
insurance premiums doubling or tripling
replanting delays due to high demand for resilient plant material
This is not an “occasional challenge.”
This is the new operating environment.
In this world, excellence is no longer defined by how closely a producer matches last year’s style.
Excellence is defined by how wisely they adapt—how they protect their vines, how they rethink their blends, how they steward their land under conditions that shift year to year.
So when Michelin lists “consistency across vintages” as a marker of excellence, I find myself asking:
Consistency according to whom? According to what climate?
And at what cost?
The Missing Conversation: Price Inflation and Market Pressure
There is another side to this that we cannot ignore.
Michelin’s influence in the restaurant world is enormous.
A star can transform demand overnight.
Apply that same gravitational force to wine—especially in regions already strained by scarcity—and the consequences are obvious.
Premium-tier wines will escalate even further.
Burgundy and Bordeaux, the first two regions in the program, already operate in markets where demand exceeds supply and pricing is shaped by speculation as much as quality.
A “Three Grapes” designation could accelerate:
inflated retail pricing
deeper allocation exclusivity
secondary-market volatility
pressure on estates to produce “Michelin-worthy” styles
And the producers who truly need visibility—small estates in undervalued regions—won’t see a Michelin inspector for years.
So while Michelin promises a “new benchmark,” it may simultaneously widen the gap between the accessible and the aspirational, between the visible and the invisible.
And I worry about what happens when external scoring systems amplify precisely the tiers that already strain the market.
Where Michelin’s Framework Does Add Value
To be balanced, I want to acknowledge what Michelin can bring into the conversation.
Agronomy — finally elevated into mainstream attention
If Michelin helps consumers understand the work beneath the soil line — replanting choices, biodiversity, canopy strategy, water management, and long-term vineyard health — that visibility is overdue. Farming is where quality begins.
Technical mastery — valuable, if not overvalued
Craft matters. Technique matters. A well-run cellar is essential.
But technical polish should never become code for uniformity. Wine needs room for edges, texture, and the character that comes from imperfect seasons.
Identity and balance — two anchors worth keeping
These resonate across every winemaking tradition and align with how serious students, educators, and professionals already evaluate wine.
And in a world where climate, fire, drought, and shifting seasons now shape every vintage, this feels especially true:
The soul of a wine lies in who it is — not whether it can remain unchanged.
So… Do We Need Another Score?
Wine already lives inside a thicket of hierarchies—points, stars, classifications, appellation laws, market cues, and price tiers.
Adding another scoring system, particularly from an institution with the cultural weight of Michelin, carries real consequences:
It may reward sameness over authenticity.
It may encourage style convergence.
It may amplify price inflation at the very top.
It may penalize producers forced to adapt to climate pressure.
And it may oversimplify a world that already struggles with accessibility.
The wine world doesn’t suffer from a lack of ratings.
It suffers from a lack of context—and a need for deeper conversations about what excellence really is.
An Invitation to You
I don’t see this article as a verdict.
I see it as the beginning of a conversation.
Tell me:
Would Michelin’s Grapes help you discover producers?
Should consistency be scored only in regions built on blending—like NV Champagne?
Do you worry about price inflation or style convergence?
What does “excellence” mean to you in a world shaped by climate, fire, drought, and constant adaptation?
Do we need another score?
Or do we need a more honest, more nuanced way of talking about what wine is becoming?



Per-capita wine consumption is at all time lows, at least here in the US. Whether it's accurate or not, many consumers, especially those new to the industry, find it very inaccessible and a bit snooty. Let's add yet another symbol of snootiness to serve as yet another barrier? I think not.
I think it’s a terrible idea. Much like Robert Parker’s scoring system didn’t just influence wine style — it distorted it. By consistently rewarding dense, ultra-ripe, high-alcohol wines, Parker effectively pushed producers into a race for heaviness. Châteaux and wineries worldwide began picking later, extracting harder, and oak-loading their wines not because it suited their terroir, but because it suited Parker’s palate.
The result? An era where nuance, freshness, and regional character were sidelined in favour of homogenised, “Parkerised” blockbusters engineered for one critic’s taste — a critic whose preferences reshaped entire regions, markets, and vintages, often to their detriment.
I suspect Michelinisation of the industry will be similar and a detriment to winemaking ☹️