Issue 25   January – March 2005

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The vigilant wine-writer

Michael Fridjhon looks at some of the ethical questions confronting wine journalists

At a dinner party (where almost all of the guests were members of the legal profession) in December, the Schabir Schaik trial enjoyed more than a passing reference. I was surprised to hear several of the lawyers agreeing that thus far the evidence of corruption was wholly circumstantial. They explained to me that it is the kind of crime which is easy to suppose but difficult to prove. A gift is, after all, merely a gift unless the intention behind giving it is to induce behaviour which the donor might not otherwise have expected.

This concern lies at the heart of any debate dealing with journalistic integrity – or for that matter the honesty of public figures, whether politicians, media, or celebrities, or the head of a buying department in a large organisation. The invitation to a hospitality box at a rugby stadium could simply be an acceptable ‘bonding’ exercise or an attempt to ‘ameliorate’ the business relationship. If it is the former, no-one, not even the South African Revenue Service disputes its value. If, however, the gesture is intended to set in motion a process in which business is no longer done on its merits, the host is wilfully engaging in an act of corruption.

When Gauteng-based wine-writers accept an invitation to fly to the Cape for a day to visit a winery and taste its new releases, they are doing no more than is expected of them by their readers. Their job, after all, involves visiting the premises, tasting the wine, and hopefully forming an objective opinion about the property and its prospects. For many of us, this is time invested in a way which the article can never convert into income. The air travel may be free but the day out of the office is a personal expense for which the revenue raised by selling the story is insufficient compensation. Those Cape Town wine-writers who complain that producers should proffer petrol money feel that they are hard done by in comparison (though no out-of-towner asks to have his travel to and from the airport and the day’s parking reimbursed).

There are no doubt purists – Robert Parker is one of them – who say that the mere investment by the producer in the cost of air travel potentially undermines the independence of the wine-writer’s platform. This assumes that flying – whether cattle class or first class – is a desirable experience. The winery trip – with or without lunch – is what wine-writers do. It would be hard to argue that the mere experience is potentially corrupting unless the winery is Romanée-Conti and the luncheon included a couple of pre-phylloxera bottles. And yet even this is only ‘corrupting’ if Aubert de Villaine has hauled out the 1865s to conceal a shabby current release. If, however, he believes that the young wines will in time turn out like the ancient bottles he serves at lunchtime, he is stating – in a pretty incontrovertible way – both the value of his terroir and his unique claim to vinous fame.

What about the producer who takes a group of wine-writers to a smart game reserve or to the Namibian outback and then produces a fairly ordinary array of current releases as the pretext for the trip? There is no doubt in my mind that the intention here is to subvert the writers’ independence of judgement, to create an environment in which the wines will show better than on the tasting bench. The imposition of a debt of gratitude is designed to make it difficult for the writer to be as frank as might otherwise be the case. I would guess that the acceptance of an invitation to participate in such a ‘jolly’ implies an ‘understanding’ along these lines. The host cannot object if his products get a bad press but he might feel justifiably outraged if the junket produced no article of any sort. (My own rule here is not to go on any party where I don’t believe in the product, the producer, or the essential purpose of the trip.)

Advertorial

This, however, leads to the question of how much money a producer must throw at a hack in order to ‘buy’ space which would otherwise have a much higher cost as above-the-line advertising. This is an issue which does – or should – concern publishers, since potential revenue is being transformed into benefits enjoyed by journalists but not by the publication’s shareholders. This is a legitimate concern, especially as most publications are more than willing to sell advertising space in the guise of editorial, and advertisers often prefer this option because of the apparent credibility and authority which editorial enjoys on account of its supposed independence.

Now we are in the grey area of the so-called advertorial, the advertisement which hides behind an article, the ‘article’ which usually hides behind the anonymity of the ‘author’. The Public Relations Institute of South Africa and the media evaluations companies consider that editorial is several times more valuable than the cost of advertising space. Trafficking in advertorial (usually at the same rate as bought advertising) is an exploitation of this extra value, one which makes it easier for the publication to sell space and for the advertiser to justify the investment. The Law of Conservation of Value argues that there is a hidden cost in this transaction. Publications which over-indulge in advertorial, or which do not clearly reveal that the ‘promotion’ is an ‘advertisement’, undermine the value of their own brand and the integrity of their editorial pages. Journalists who put their names to purchased advertising space compromise their independence, even if they only do this for products in which they have a deep and abiding faith.

And consultants?

Then we come to writers – like me for example – who do consulting work in the industry. How honest can we be about a producer on whose payroll we appear from time to time? I have my own guidelines here, though I have no doubt that they would not satisfy all my critics. Firstly, I tend to avoid writing about the business of my clients – certainly for the duration of that business relationship. I may make mention of their wines in a wider context, but would not base an article on their achievements, or on any project in which I have been employed. If this becomes unavoidable – such as when the winery garners a string of awards – I try to limit my comments to the salient facts. I also make sure that my page editor is aware of the interest, and provide him with an appropriate disclosure which he is at liberty to publish as a note to the article, or within the body of the text. In respect of my own potential conflicts of interest I can comfortably add that no single client makes a significant contribution to my income, whereas I have been writing about wine in national publications for some twenty-five years. I am hardly likely to compromise a reputation which has taken a quarter of a century to build – least of all for clients who by their very nature are transient.

Finally there are the journalists who moonlight as copywriters, either for agencies or directly for the wineries. Obviously they find themselves in a position where, as journalists, they are reporting on producers for whom they have written a press release. There is also a very real possibility that they will re-render their commissioned writing as editorial. Since they are communicating about a client’s product there is obviously a risk that editorial independence may be compromised. If, in reworking the press release, the article contains the puffery and marketing hype which inevitably creeps into a document intended to generate sales, then there is no doubt that a line has been crossed.

In all cases there is a simple test. Whether the temptation comes from a producer proffering excessive hospitality, a publication ‘discounting’ editorial in advertorial or the company whose business means so much to the critic that he can no longer view its products dispassionately, the moment editorial loses its independence, the community as a whole suffers a loss. We are not better off for compromised publications or compromised journalists and it is better to be over-vigilant than to try and restore integrity to broken trust.

 


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