There was some idle discussion on social media over the holiday break about the state of Alberta beer writing. More specifically there was some suggestion that area beer writers are reluctant to write negative reviews. I am not sure the discussion really led anywhere (do any social media conversations lead somewhere?), but it did get me reflecting on my own work.
I don’t do full blown reviews as much as I did in the past when I wrote for Vue Weekly – which was basically what I did for them. Plus the role of reviews is diminished here at Onbeer.org Version 2.0. I will still do them from time to time but in general there is less need for them, given the multitude of beer rating sites and apps and heightened consumer awareness of new beer.
But the online discussion affords me an opportunity to articulate my approach to reviews and my opinion of negative reviews in general.
First, my Vue Weekly reviews heavily skewed toward positive, with the occasional flame thrown in. There was a reason for that – my editor told me so. No, seriously. My editors were quite clear about the role of the column in the paper. People wanted to read about a beer they should try, not a beer they should avoid. My job was to help guide them through the world of beer, not offer up my old man views. That didn’t mean my reviews were mindless raves. I always inserted nuance and constructive criticism (usually couched in “I would have liked more/less of…”).
Here on the site, I have more editorial freedom and I think that has showed in the mix of positive and negative. I haven’t been afraid to review a beer that disappointed me or failed to meet standards. However, I think I am reluctant to include beer that I would absolutely pan. In general I just like to stay silent about the really bad ones. That may be mostly about my personality.
I believe I have a coherent philosophy about reviews. The first principle is honesty. I will not write something that I don’t believe. Readers need to trust that when I talk about a beer they are getting my full, honest opinion.
The second principle is that the review is about the reader, not me. I know what I think about the beer. My job is to offer my insights to help the reader decide if they want to try it. That leads to description being the most important component. I try to express the flavours and aromas I pick up in the beer so the reader gets a sense of what they might experience.
The third principle is to be constructive. No one really cares whether I like a beer or not, but they may want to know why it tastes the way it does. Being constructive means being specific and articulating WHY a flavour doesn’t appeal. Just saying a beer is bad is a cop out (more on that in a moment). If it tastes stale I want to talk about oxidation and aging. If it is thin, I will explore why I think it is thin.
Those principles, combined with the fact I am a fairly polite person in general, lead to nuanced reviews that have both positive and negative elements. And, sure, I don’t really go out of my way to pick the worst beer to review, but my attitude is what is the point of that?
If I am honest, I am also aware that I have relationships with many people in the industry and that has a subtle impact on my writing – but I argue in a good way. It helps me remember that there are people behind the beer I write about. Brewers and brewery owners who work hard to create their product. This is not excusing poor quality. It just makes me a bit more human and relational in the words I choose. In short, it stops me from being too mean.
I don’t prescribe to the “tell them in private” approach – although I do that too. If the public consumes the beer, then the public has a right to hear opinions about the beer. But the public also has a right to know why (see principle three above).
Which brings me to my final point. Taking pride in coming up with the best superlative to describe how awful a beer tastes makes no sense to me. Whose interests are served by a creative take down? Sure, you have a great vocabulary, but what is it telling us about the beer. The only thing worse is the “I hate this beer” review that offers little else. Your certainty is admirable, but your proclamation is not persuasive.
I look at it this way. In my day job I mark a lot of assignments. If all I did was assign a grade with a dismissive “okay paper” or “not good enough”, I would be failing at my job. I view beer reviews the same way. It is not enough to have an opinion; I have to justify that opinion to the reader.
I have the privilege of being able to share my opinions with the world. I figure I had better use it for good. And that is my take on beer reviews.
January 16, 2020 at 9:42 AM
Maybe you were addressing this in part, but personal taste comes into play. I don’t like smoked beers for example but other people would run over their grandmother to have one. That doesn’t mean a smoked beer is bad, it is just bad to me. I have to believe the same is true for a reviewer (or a brewer or a consumer or a Cicerone etc etc). Personal taste influences (like for example a Krampus..)
I find good reviewers – you are one – touch on additional things the average consumer would miss. Off-flavours, where the brewer was inattentive to the style, where something was overdone (or underdone). Or plain bad outcomes – an infected or stale or otherwise undrinkable product.
January 16, 2020 at 5:00 PM
I wanted to add something about preferences, but felt the piece was getting too long. But I agree – reviewers need to differentiate between their personal preferences and what the beer objectively is trying to accomplish. I work hard to set my personal preferences aside (although that is never a perfect task). No one cares which styles I prefer and which I don’t. What matters is how good an example is that specific beer.
Thanks for commenting.
January 16, 2020 at 1:01 PM
I love how applicable this is to other types of reviews, too – it really reminded me about how I approach theatre reviews and the current state of those right now, which I would argue skew even more heavily towards the positive. I really struggle with it too, especially now that I’m a reviewer only on my own site and not with a paper behind me. I worry that if I write a negative review, I’ll get cut off/not invited to review anything else by that company. There’s also the human aspect, too. There are real people behind beer too, of course, but it feels very personal when you’re reviewing people’s live performances on stage.
Also, I have to say as one of your former editors – I did like when you did the negative reviews, because you handled them professionally. And sure, it’s fun to read take-downs from time to time. But I also really liked your more in-depth beer analysis, and I’m glad to see you’ve returned to that here in a big way!
January 16, 2020 at 4:58 PM
Thanks for the kind words, Mel. Your were great to work with – although we never did that wine vs. beer dinner. Maybe in 2020?
I agree the principles can apply to any professional reviewing, not just beer. And I totally get how reviewing a person’s on-stage performance is intensely personal. It is a good thing such a smart and professional person is handling it in this town.