Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Johan Jordaan has a title for a book he hasn't written yet: When Gold Is Not Good Enough. It says everything about the man. Spier's Cellar Master and back-to-back Global Chenin Blanc Master Winemaker in Paris doesn't lead with his accolades. He leads with soil. With time. With the quiet, relentless work that happens long before a medal is pinned on anything.

This week's Winemakers On Fire goes deep with one of South Africa's most thoughtful winemakers—on Pinotage's untapped elegance, the industry's complexity, and what it really costs to build something that lasts.

When Gold Is Not Good Enough

Johan Jordaan has a title for a book he hasn't written yet. When Gold Is Not Good Enough. 

He mentions it almost in passing, the way you mention something you've been carrying quietly for years. "You put heart and soul into everything, every day," he says. "What people don't realise is what goes into a lifetime of winemaking. Farming and agriculture are a hard way of life, but full of passion and reward. The journey is very rewarding; taking our wines to the world, sharing glasses and stories enriches your cast of memories, but the reality is that time is precious, and spending time away from your family needs to return to you in the form of success."

We're talking about it now. What does it take?

Jordaan is Cellar Master at Spier, one of Stellenbosch's most storied wine farms, and the back-to-back Global Chenin Blanc Master Winemaker, held at the prestigious Master Winemaker 100 Awards in Paris 2025 and 2026. But titles are the easy part of the story. What's more interesting is the people behind them: curious, restless, philosophically blunt, and carrying a quiet frustration about where the wine industry finds itself.

Johan Jordaan, Spier Cellar Master and back-to-back Global Chenin Blanc Master Winemaker, Paris 2025 and 2026.

The Soil Is the Battery. Recharge It Right.

Jordaan grew up on a grape farm near Rawsonville, which goes some way toward explaining why his winemaking philosophy starts in the ground rather than in the cellar. "I always liked the smell of soil," he says. "The Americans call it dirt. But the soil is alive and ours to nurture. I call it the battery. If you recharge it right, it'll give the plants energy for as long as you need it."

The metaphor is earthy and exact. In the wet 2023 vintage, when other producers were wringing their hands, Jordaan says Spier's investment in soil health was the difference between wines with genuine depth and wines that came out "pretty thin, pretty linear." He works backwards from the wine he wants to make, all the way down to the microbiome in the earth. Shale soils in Durbanville and Paarl. Granitic soils from Stellenbosch with a higher proportion of clay, and sandy Table Mountain sandstone and loamy soils from Rawsonville.

"People box it today as regenerative or traditional," he says with a slight edge. "But it's actually been the way farming was done for centuries. That's how we should be farming. We lost that because of the commodification of wine. We started farming out of a bag. Much more chemistry than biology. Nature can provide plant-available nutrients if you feed her and have the patience to see it in action."

Pinotage Deserves Your Full Attention

Ask Jordaan about Pinotage, and he lights up in the way winemakers do when they feel the need to make a case. South Africa's own grape has only been around commercially since the late fifties, and the industry is still learning and adapting to the grape's complexities. "It can be much more elegant. Not over-extracted. Not drowning in new oak. The mulberry and blackberry notes are there. Let them be the focal point."

At Spier, the team makes three distinct expressions. The Signature range is fruit-forward, plush, and approachable. The Seaward range draws from cooler coastal sites, aiming for what Jordaan calls "that cool climate elegance — almost like a European wine, but it has to be South African." And the 21 Gables — named for the 21 perfectly preserved Cape Dutch gabled buildings that crown Spier's historic farm, the highest number on any South African farm — is sourced from a vineyard 240 metres above sea level, six kilometres from the coast, overlooking False Bay and Table Mountain. "I always say a vine that has a nice view cannot make a bad wine." He approaches it like Bordeaux: extended skin maceration, 16 months in barrel, then tank. Patient, deliberate, respectful of the tannins.

"Pinotage has very aggressive tannins. Oxygen is your friend here; by softening it with oxygen, you are able to stretch the tannins from the front of the mouth to the back, coating every spike until what remains is what he calls 'sinewy elegance.'" That phrase alone tells you something about how he sees his work.

Spier's picnic area, framed by one of the farm's 21 iconic Cape Dutch gables.

The Complexity of the Industry

Here is where Johan Jordaan gets genuinely animated. The global wine industry's commodification crisis is not, in his view, something that happened to the trade. "You cannot blame the consumer; it's the world we live in, it's no one's fault but a complex dynamic between supply and demand. Wine is such a special craft, taking years to plan and make into something that consumers can enjoy."

"Our partners selling wines around the world—retail, agents, wine shops, and restaurants—assist in advocating the message of wine. That is very important, and they are doing a great job at it. The challenge is that due to the seasonality of wine, the next vintage is always nine months away, and that puts immense pressure on the wine trade. Crafting fruit from the earth takes time, and working with nature to achieve this takes months of planning and action."

How do you balance the scales of supply and demand? He doesn't wait for an answer. "We've been doing it to ourselves for 25 to 30 years. It's like trying to dig yourself out of a hole with a shovel without the head."

"The moment a producer puts wine on special, the consumer learns to wait for the special. Expectation, once created, must be managed, not dismantled. One of my favourite things to say is: we need to manage expectations. Not create them. It was already created."

He's not without sympathy for the pressure producers face—full tanks, incoming harvests, cash flow realities. But his conclusion is unsparing. We have to fix it. "Make the best wine you can from the grapes you are growing and ensure that quality takes preference over quantity."

His counterargument, embodied at Spier, is that you cannot win on the shelf. Not sustainably. "You have to be a whole lifestyle element. You need an address. People must come and visit you. There has to be a story." He calls Spier's farm the home of Spier, and he means it literally: a place where the wine is the endorsement of a philosophy, not the other way around. "The wine, for me, is the endorsement of how we farm and how we do business. If you look at what's in a glass at 100 rand a bottle and what's in a glass at 1,200 rand a bottle — it needs to echo whatever we've been telling."

Spier Wine Farm, Stellenbosch, from the air.

You Cannot Run a Cellar by Standing Still

Jordaan is, by his own admission, a runner. "I don't stop and take stock. I move the whole time." It is both his engine and, occasionally, his complication. He has been at Spier for 18 years, and he talks about the culture there with the warmth of someone who has genuinely found their tribe: a values-based business where the shortest-serving winemaker has been there 11 years and the longest, 30.

Ask him what he would hand over to a willing assistant, and he pauses, genuinely considering it. "I am the least prone to delegate anything. Even if it's a weakness. Because I want to understand it." Finances used to be his blind spot. Now numbers are a strength.

When it comes to people, however, he is quick to credit the team around him. "Working with the human psyche, being part of a great team of people, is always the most gratifying moment to see their development and growth. Working in such a caring environment as Spier is very humbling, and it requires one to slow down and see the person."

He says the approach is one shaped by collaboration, an environment where leadership is shared and where the strength of the team allows for deeper focus on both craft and people. "It has definitely paid dividends for me. Getting the best out of a team is something we do together, and I'm fortunate to work with people who bring solutions and insight back into the process."

Spier 21 Gables Chenin Blanc — where terroir meets the table.

Salvador Dalí Was Right About Wine

The conversation is winding down, and Jordaan reaches for a quote he comes back to often, credited to Salvador Dalí: "Who knows how to taste wine never drinks wine again, but tastes secrets instead." "That comes from a very curious mind," he says, "and it's an accurate description for me of how we should look at wine. Don't box it in. Go beyond."

It is, in miniature, the whole of his philosophy. A man who grew up smelling soil on a farm, who nearly became a chemical engineer, who was lured back to the vineyard by the scent of fermenting grapes, and who has spent nearly two decades at one address coaxing secrets from the earth. Some of those secrets end up in a glass. The rest, apparently, are still waiting to be written down.

When gold isn't good enough, you keep going. That's the book. That's also life.

Wine Futurist Mike Carter, based in Cape Town, South Africa, believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

HAS THE WINE INDUSTRY LOST ITS WAY?

A Refounding Manifesto for Wine CEOs

Every January, experts publish predictions. Lists of trends, forecasts, market analyses—mostly worthless, always forgotten by February.

I'm not interested in predictions. I'm interested in positioning.

And here's what perfect positioning requires: knowing who you are before you decide where you're going. Because the wine industry's crisis isn't about tariffs, generational preferences, or climate change—though those matter. It's about something more fundamental.

We've forgotten who we are.

Not forgotten how to make wine. Not forgotten how to sell it, market it, or distribute it. We've forgotten the foundational character that made wine matter in the first place: the capacity to create trust, forge connection, build belonging, and spark conversation.

This erosion isn't sudden. It's institutional drift—accumulated decisions that seemed rational in isolation but have, cumulatively, pulled us away from our core identity. 

The result? An industry increasingly indistinguishable from any other consumer packaged goods category, competing on price and convenience while wondering why younger generations choose spirits, cocktails, and literally anything else.

What follows isn't a prediction. It's a framework for wine CEOs ready to do different work: recovering enduring truths and reinterpreting them for a changed world.

Call it refounding.

We've Optimised for Everything Except What Actually Matters

Walk into most tasting rooms, and what do you find? Not gathering spaces designed for conversation, but transaction centres optimised for throughput. The script is rehearsed. The experience is standardised. The goal is to move people from tasting to purchase as efficiently as possible.

We've automated the soul out of the experience.

The same drift appears in how we measure success. Volume metrics. Distribution breadth. Award counts. Discount velocity. Compensation structures that incentivise short-term sales over long-term relationships. Performance reviews that prioritise quarterly revenue over customer retention. Strategic planning that focuses on market share rather than meaning share.

Here's the irony: we measure and reward exactly the behaviours that are killing us.

Digital was supposed to restore relationships and connections. Instead, most wineries use relationship technology for transactional purposes—email blasts about discounts, social media posts about awards, e-commerce platforms optimised for conversion rates.

The evidence is everywhere. Global consumption declining in mature markets. Younger consumers choosing literally anything else. And when they do drink wine, they approach it transactionally—less loyally, less reverently, and more interchangeably.

They're not rejecting wine because they don't like fermented grapes. They're rejecting what wine has become.

Wine's Purpose Isn't Filling Bottles—It's Filling a Specific Human Need

Wine isn't in the business of alcohol. Wine is in the business of human connection.

The enduring need we serve isn't for fermented grape juice at a specific price point. It's for conviviality, ritual, shared meaning, and belonging around the table. For the portal to place and time that wine uniquely provides. For the conversation catalyst that transforms a meal into a memory.

This need persists across generations, cultures, and technological disruption. People will always crave moments of genuine connection. Wine's role was—and should be—facilitating those moments.

Wine's distinctive character rests on four foundational pillars:

Trust is the foundation. Wine asks people to trust the producer's integrity, trust that what's in the bottle matches what's on the label, and trust that the story being told is true. This trust is hard-won and easily broken. When absent, wine becomes just another commodity where price is the only differentiator.

Connection is what trust enables. Wine creates connection between people and place, between drinkers and makers, and between those gathered around a table. That connection transforms wine from product into portal.

Belonging is what connection creates at scale. Wine clubs aren't just distribution mechanisms; they're tribes. Wine regions aren't just geographic designations; they're identities people claim. Wine dinners aren't just meals; they're rituals of inclusion.

Conversation is both the expression and renewal of the other three pillars. Wine gives people something worth talking about. The story of place. The winemaker's choices. The memory this bottle evokes. When conversation dies, the entire system weakens.

These four pillars don't exist independently. They form an integrated system where each reinforces the others. Trust enables connection. Connection creates belonging. Belonging generates conversation. Conversation deepens trust.

This is who we are when we're functioning as designed. Not producers of alcoholic beverages. Not managers of agricultural commodities. Creators and stewards of trust, connection, belonging, and conversation.

Five Questions Expose Whether You've Drifted or Refounded

Can you describe why your business exists without mentioning wine? If not, you're defining yourself by what you make, not why you matter. That's the first step toward commoditization. Purpose transcends product.

If anyone acquired your brand tomorrow, what would be impossible to replicate? If the answer is "nothing" or "our vineyard sites," your capability isn't distinctive enough to survive disruption. Your moat should be systematically embedded character, not dirt.

Look at your last ten strategic decisions—how many strengthened trust, connection, belonging, and conversation? How many were rationalised as necessary compromises? The ratio tells you whether you're refounding or drifting.

Ask your frontline staff whether the culture supports authentic connection or pushes them toward transaction and efficiency. Their answer reveals the truth your leadership metrics can't see.

If your current leadership leaves tomorrow, would your systems guide replacements toward decisions that strengthen your character? Or would those systems push them toward the same drift you're trying to reverse? Character that isn't encoded eventually erodes.

These questions don't offer comfort. They expose drift, reveal hard truths, and make refounding work visible and urgent. Most wine businesses will struggle to answer them honestly.

But discomfort is the prerequisite for change.

Two Paths Diverge—and the Industry Will Divide Along This Choice

The first path is continuation. Keep competing on price. Keep chasing distribution. Keep measuring success by volume and awards. Keep believing better marketing or smarter discounts will restore what's been lost.

This path is familiar, rational, and leads to irrelevance. Not immediate collapse—drift rarely produces that. Instead, slow hollowing out. Margins that never recover. Customers who never commit. A persistent sense that something essential has been lost but can't be named or recovered.

The second path is refounding. It begins with recognition: we've drifted. It continues with excavation: recovering the enduring truths that define wine's purpose. It deepens through an honest examination of the five questions. It manifests through systematic redesign: encoding character into culture, strategy, operations, governance, and compensation.

This path requires courage to recognise drift without a crisis forcing your hand. Humility to value what came before. Patience to do the work. Discipline to embed character into systems that outlast any leader.

Most wine businesses won't choose this path. It's too hard. Too uncertain. Too much work for returns that can't be easily quantified.

Which means choosing: A smaller segment will successfully refound—businesses that compete on distinctive character rather than commodity attributes, nearly impossible to replicate. The larger segment will complete its drift into commodity—interchangeable products competing on price, struggling to maintain relevance.

Both will claim to be "the wine industry." But they'll be fundamentally different enterprises.

The Work Begins with a Choice You Make Today

This manifesto has given you language for what you've sensed but couldn't name. A framework for understanding why conventional transformation fails. Diagnostic questions to assess where you stand.

What it can't give you is the decision.

You can return to familiar patterns—optimising operations, pursuing growth, hitting targets—telling yourself the industry's challenges are beyond your control.

Or you can begin refounding. Not tomorrow. Not after the next quarterly review. 

Now.

Because character erosion accelerates. Every day you operate from misalignment deepens the drift. Every compensation cycle that rewards volume over relationship depth encodes character loss more deeply. Every strategic decision made without asking "Does this strengthen our foundational pillars?" makes refounding harder.

Leadership is stewardship of character. And character, once lost, doesn't restore itself through better tactics.

It restores through recognition, courage, and disciplined redesign.

The wine industry has lost its way because it’s forgotten who it is.

Your business can refound. But it requires something most CEOs avoid: the courage to remember who you were before success taught you to forget.

Which path are you on?

Acknowledgment

This manifesto draws on research from the Yale School of Management's Program on Stakeholder Innovation and Management, particularly the work "When Companies Forget Who They Are: The Work of Refounding" by Jon Iwata. The framework of institutional drift, enduring needs, and distinctive capabilities has been adapted here for the wine industry's specific challenges.

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Twenty years ago, a young winemaker stood in front of gnarled 1952 Chenin Blanc vines that everyone wanted ripped out. Her decision to say "no" changed everything. Corlea Fourie, Head of Wine at Bosman Family Vineyards, has built her reputation not on bold interventions but on attentive restraint—knowing when to act and, more importantly, when to trust.

From navigating personal grief during crucial harvests to pioneering regenerative viticulture, her journey reveals a counterintuitive truth: the most valuable skill in winemaking isn't what you do, it's what you choose not to do.

Her story challenges everything we think we know about control, persistence, and success.

The Winemaker Who Learned to Say No

Corlea Fourie has spent twenty years making wine at Bosman Family Vineyards in Wellington's Bovlei. But her most valuable skill? Knowing when not to act.

That clarity came into sharp focus one morning in 2007, standing in front of a scraggly block of 1952 Chenin Blanc vines that everyone wanted ripped out. Low-yielding, gnarled, inefficient—the business case for removal was airtight. Fourie, fresh from Stellenbosch University with her Viticulture and Oenology degree, felt something else entirely.

"Over the last 20 years, a lot of what I've been responsible for has come down to saying no rather than yes," she reflects. "No to shortcuts, to quick fixes, to decisions that feel efficient but irreversible."

The internal conversation was brutally simple: Once they're gone, they're gone.

She convinced Petrus Bosman, the eighth-generation owner, to give the vineyard one final season. They'd vinify it separately using only natural yeasts and see what the old vines had to say. That gamble became Optenhorst Chenin Blanc, now officially the third-oldest vineyard in South Africa and a wine that earned 95 points from Tim Atkin MW for its 2023 vintage.

"At the time, we didn't know what those vines would become," Fourie admits. "There was no blueprint or promise. What I felt instead was a quiet, persistent nagging—an instinct that said we needed to see their full potential before making a drastic decision."

It's the kind of restraint that doesn't make headlines but builds legacies.

From Medicine to Winemaking Without Looking Back

Fourie's path to Wellington began in Bloemfontein, where medicine seemed the sensible choice for an academically astute Free State student. Then came a gap year working behind a bar in Scotland, where the alchemy of wines and whiskies sparked something she couldn't ignore.

"I didn't actively leave medicine so much as I considered it, because 25 years ago, it was the kind of path that felt sensible and secure," she says. "Choosing wine meant stepping into something unfamiliar, removed from my Free State upbringing. That was daunting, but it was also very exciting."

The moment of certainty arrived during her first harvest—physically punishing, mentally exhausting, instinctively right. "The mix of science, intuition, and working with nature resonated with me in a way nothing else had," she recalls. "From that point on, I never seriously questioned the change in direction."

She completed her internship at Diemersfontein, where she met winemaker Bertus Fourie. They married, settled in Wellington, and when Bosman renovated their historic cellar in 2007, Corlea became part of a team that would eventually become three female winemakers—a rarity that's become one of the estate's quiet strengths.

When Being Overlooked Becomes Your Advantage

Being a female winemaker in 2007 came with its own peculiar friction. Fourie wasn't subjected to open dismissal, but there were moments—emails redirected to male colleagues, technical conversations that bypassed her even when she led the project.

"These situations were limited and context-specific, involving one or two individuals," she says with characteristic understatement. "Very clearly a them issue rather than a me issue."

Her response? Consistency. Stay calm, prepared, and clear. Let results speak louder than assumptions. It wasn't always comfortable, but those experiences shaped how she leads today—with quiet confidence, without the need to over-assert authority.

Now, leading a team of three women, she's having different conversations. They taste together, discuss wine development, unpack decisions and responses. But the most important message she delivers is one she wishes someone had told her earlier: "You don't have to fit a specific mould to succeed as a winemaker. There's room for different approaches and instincts, and that diversity of thinking ultimately strengthens both the wines and the team."

The Vintages That Tested Everything

Legendary wines carry legendary expectations. Every Optenhorst vintage now arrives with the weight of reputation behind it. But the harvests that truly tested Fourie weren't about vineyard challenges—they were about grief.

The 2007 and 2008 vintages coincided with significant personal loss, arriving when she was still finding her footing as a winemaker. "The calm, grounded centre I usually draw strength from was unsettled," she admits. "What kept me awake wasn't only the vineyard challenges, but the pressure I placed on myself to perform beyond my emotional capacity at the time."

She felt a fierce need to prove that personal grief wouldn't affect professional outcomes. In hindsight, that expectation was unnecessary—and damaging.

"Working through those harvests taught me an important lesson: steadiness in winemaking doesn't come from pushing harder, but from allowing space—for the vineyard, for the wine, and for yourself."

That understanding has become central to her philosophy. Winemaking, she's fond of saying, is a delicate balance of hands-on and hands-off. But knowing when to intervene versus when to trust and let go? That wisdom only arrives through expensive mistakes.

When Stubbornness Becomes the Problem

Bosman committed to organic viticulture early on, selecting sites aligned with their winemaking philosophy. In one vineyard, the conversion took a brutal toll. Instead of adapting, they doubled down—trying to do more, not less, because giving up felt like failure.

"In hindsight, that only added pressure to an already stressed system," Fourie says.

Eventually, they pivoted toward regenerative practices. That shift didn't just stabilise the vineyard—it added value across every dimension. "It reinforced an important principle for me: progress isn't about stubborn persistence, but about paying attention and adapting when the vineyard tells you it needs something different."

It's attentive restraint in action—listening deeply, then acting with intention.

The Partnership That Works Because the Wine Leads

Fourie's husband, Bertus, is also a winemaker, which could create friction. Instead, they've built a partnership grounded in mutual respect and a simple protocol: when palates differ, they taste together and let the wine lead the conversation.

"I trust Bertus's palate and judgement completely," she says. "Our palates may differ slightly, but they're closely aligned. Once we leave the cellar, the only thing we take home is the wine itself."

What Vines Tell You That Boardrooms Never Could

Fourie travels regularly to promote Bosman wines in the UK, Europe, and the USA. She's learned to navigate retail buyers and sommeliers, translating vineyard stories into market language. But her preference remains clear: walking vine rows at dawn during harvest.

"Those early walks are about observation," she explains. "I'm checking on how the vineyard is responding to the season. It's practical and grounding."

What the vines offer that meetings don't is simplicity—no narrative, just what's working and what isn't. It keeps decisions realistic and focused, anchored in reality rather than rhetoric.

The Corlea Factor

If you pressed Fourie to define what makes her approach distinctive, she'd point to two qualities: attentive restraint and storytelling.

"I listen deeply—to vineyards, to people, to the texture of a wine—and then I act with intention," she says. "I try to bring empathy into winemaking: a belief that everything—vine, soil, human—performs best when understood rather than controlled."

Alongside that sits storytelling, which for her means building a connection between people and the wine. It's not marketing spin. It's about honouring provenance, expressing terroir, and letting each vintage tell its own story without over-manipulation.

Her Generation 8 Chenin Blanc has become that wine you keep in your fridge for mid-week meals, weekend braais, picnic baskets—versatile, reliable, expressive. And her Twyfeling Cinsaut from the Hermitijk Kop vineyard has won over sommeliers globally with its elegance—the 2023 vintage earning 5 stars in Platter's 2026 guide and selection as Platter's Cinsaut Noir of the Year.

And Optenhorst? That wine she almost didn't make continues to remind her why saying no to the obvious choice sometimes opens the door to something extraordinary.

Twenty vintages later, Fourie remains grateful—for the places she walks, the hands that shape the work, the community that rises before dawn to sort, press, taste, and nurture with shared purpose. Harvest is never a solo endeavour.

But perhaps her deepest gratitude is reserved for that quiet, persistent instinct that said wait when everyone else said remove. Because once they're gone, they're gone—and some things are worth the patience to truly understand.

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

The Great Flattening

Platter's 2026 South African Wine Guide recently hit the bookshops. Inside its pages: 300 five-star wines, all scoring 95 points or above. Add another 400 wines sitting at 94 points, and you've got 700 bottles the critics consider exceptional.

Out of 7,000 labels in the trade, that's 10% earning top marks.

Here's the question nobody wants to ask: if 10% of wines are exceptional, is exceptional still exceptional? Or has it simply become "very good with decent distribution"?

Welcome to the Great Flattening—the point where everything excellent becomes indistinguishable, and the numerical systems we've relied on to guide choice stop differentiating and start obscuring.

When Ratings Collapse

Score inflation isn't unique to wine. Academia wrestles with grade inflation. Economies deal with currency debasement. Any system that rewards volume over rigour eventually hits this wall—the top collapses inward, and the middle disappears.

In wine, the consequences are immediate and visible. A 95-point Swartland Syrah from a radical natural winemaker with a compelling farming story sits next to a 95-point corporate blend engineered specifically to hit reviewer benchmarks. Same score. Wildly different wines. Zero context for the consumer standing in the aisle trying to make a choice.

The rating was supposed to simplify. Instead, it flattens. It strips away terroir, philosophy, story, and distinctiveness, leaving only a number that no longer carries meaning because too many wines share it.

When everyone gets an A, the A becomes worthless.

South Africa's Paradox

From a consumer perspective, South African wine has never been better. Or cheaper. We over-deliver on the quality-to-price ratio in ways that would be marketing gold for any other category. Imagine if luxury cars or premium electronics offered world-class performance at accessible prices—the brand storytelling would be relentless.

But walk into a South African wine shop, and you'll see something else entirely: a sea of metallic stickers. Gold medals here, silver plaques there, 95-point badges everywhere. The visual noise is deafening. When every bottle on the shelf shouts "award-winner," none of them are actually heard.

This is the great flattening made visible. The industry has done the hard work—the quality is genuinely there, the diversity is extraordinary, and the terroir stories are some of the most compelling in the wine world. Swartland alone could fill a masterclass on what makes wine interesting. Yet instead of leaning into what makes each wine distinctive, the default response is external validation through scores and stickers.

It's symptomatic of a deeper confidence problem, as if South African wine still needs a badge to justify its existence on the global stage.

Newsflash: it doesn't. Not anymore.

Where The Logic Breaks Down

The mathematical absurdity becomes clear when you follow the trend line. If 300 wines scored 95+ this year, how many next year? And the year after? We've already passed "peak wine" in terms of global production quality. What happens when we pass peak 95-point scores?

The rating system has painted itself into a corner. To maintain credibility, it can't keep inflating scores indefinitely. But to maintain relevance, it can't suddenly deflate and tell 300 winemakers their five-star wine is now four stars because the curve needed adjusting. The system is trapped by its own generosity.

Meanwhile, the consumer stands in the aisle, bewildered. Seven thousand labels. Seven hundred excellent wines. Dozens of gold stickers per shelf. The ratings were supposed to guide them. Instead, they've created equivalence where none exists and obscured the very differences that would help someone make a meaningful choice.

What Stickers Can't Deliver

Here's what a 95-point score tells you: a qualified taster found this wine technically proficient, balanced, and expressive on the day they tasted it. That's useful information, but it's also remarkably limited.

It doesn't tell you why this wine matters. It doesn't tell you the story of the soil, the winemaker's philosophy, the risks taken in the vineyard, or the creative vision behind the blend. It doesn't tell you whether this wine represents something bigger than itself—a movement, a region's renaissance, or a sustainable farming revolution.

Most importantly, it doesn't tell you whether this wine will resonate with you specifically, because you aren't the critic. Your palate, your preferences, your context, and your moment are all different.

Story, positioning, and relationship—these are the three things a sticker can never deliver. Yet these are precisely the tools that create actual differentiation in a flattened market.

The wines that break through aren't necessarily the ones with the highest scores. They're the ones people remember, talk about, and actively seek out because they mean something beyond points. They stand for something. They connect with something. They matter in ways that transcend technical excellence.

The False Shortcut

The appeal of scores and stickers is obvious—they're shortcuts. For winemakers, they're easier than building a brand narrative. For retailers, they're simpler than staff training. For consumers, they're faster than learning about wine.

But shortcuts have costs. In this case, the cost is commodification. When you reduce wine to a number, you've turned it into a widget. You've stripped away everything that makes it culturally significant, emotionally resonant, and worth caring about beyond basic refreshment.

This is precisely the trap that wine platforms represent—the belief that wine purchasing is merely a friction problem to be solved with better algorithms and price comparisons. Find it, click it, sip it. No story, no discovery, no relationship. Just SKUs in a database racing to the bottom on margin.

The great flattening doesn't just happen through score inflation. It happens every time the industry treats wine as a commodity rather than as a cultural product with meaning, context, and story.

The Way Forward

South African wine sits on a remarkable foundation—world-class quality. Accessible pricing. Diverse terroirs. Winemakers pushing boundaries. A rich cultural heritage. International recognition.

But foundation isn't positioning. Quality isn't differentiation. Awards aren't meaning.

The winemakers and brands that will thrive aren't the ones collecting more stickers or chasing higher scores. They're the ones bold enough to answer different questions: Why does this wine matter? What makes our story worth telling? Who are we for, and what do we stand for?

These questions demand more than technical winemaking skill. They demand clarity about positioning—understanding where you compete and why you're distinctive within that space. They demand authentic storytelling that connects your wine to something larger than the bottle. They demand relationship-building that turns buyers into believers.

None of this is easy. It's harder than slapping a gold sticker on a bottle. It requires confidence, conviction, and the willingness to stand for something specific rather than trying to appeal to everyone.

But here's the truth the great flattening reveals: when excellence becomes ubiquitous, only meaning differentiates. When everyone can make technically beautiful wine, only story and positioning create preference. When scores become noise, only authentic connection cuts through.

The Choice Ahead

The wine industry stands at an inflection point. One path leads deeper into commodification—more scores, more stickers, more algorithmic shopping, more price competition, more sameness. It's the path of least resistance, and it ends with wine becoming just another widget in someone else's marketplace.

The other path leads toward meaning—distinctive positioning, authentic storytelling, genuine relationships, and wines that stand for something beyond points. It's harder. It demands more. But it's also the only path that preserves what makes wine culturally significant rather than merely consumable.

South African wine has consistently delivered high-quality results. The scores prove it. Seven hundred excellent wines prove it.

Now comes the harder question: what happens next? Will we hide behind stickers, or will we step forward with stories worth telling and positions worth holding?

The Great Flattening has arrived. The only way out is up—toward meaning, distinctiveness, and wines that matter beyond the number on the bottle.

The choice is ours.

A note for 2026: I'm exploring a handful of sponsorship partnerships with organisations that share a commitment to independent wine industry thinking. Interested? Email me.  

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

At 32, Matthew Andersen leads a 300-year-old estate known for Bordeaux—yet he's fallen hard for Italian varietals. "Bordeaux is the high school sweetheart," he tells me at Morgenster Estate. "Italian varietals? That's the woman you want to marry."

This isn't rebellion—it's recognition that perfect positioning means honouring legacy while creating space for creative expression. From building vineyards at Wynberg Boys High to learning "listen with your ears, steal with your eyes" across three continents, Andersen's journey reveals what it takes to be a custodian of history while writing your own chapter.

Welcome to a winemaker's Italian love affair.

Matthew Andersen.

The High School Sweetheart vs. The Woman You Marry: Matthew Andersen's Italian Love Affair

Matthew Andersen sits across from me at Morgenster Estate, backlit by the Helderberg Mountains, and drops a confession that stops me mid-sip: "Bordeaux is like the high school sweetheart—your first love. But Italian varietals? That's the woman you want to marry. Powerful, strong, temperamental sometimes, but you work with it and love it for all its quirks."

This isn't your typical winemaker romance. At 32, Andersen leads a 300-year-old estate known for its Bordeaux pedigree. While the focus remains firmly on those celebrated Bordeaux-style wines, he's found creative freedom in Morgenster's Italian varietals—Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, and Vermentino. It's the kind of dual identity that demands both respect for tradition and courage to explore.

When Wynberg Boys Built a Vineyard Behind the Rugby Field

Andersen's wine journey began not in tasting rooms but on a half-hectare of overgrown swamp next to the Cabbage Patch—Wynberg Boys High School's multi-purpose sports field. In his Grade 11 year, old boys from Constantia Uitsig and Buitenverwachting approached the headmaster with an unlikely proposal: plant vines, start a viticulture society, teach the boys something beyond balance sheets.

"The goal was always accounting," Andersen admits, his father a chartered accountant, his brother now a CFA in America. "I didn't know any better. I enjoyed the numbers." But clearing that swampy patch, planting poles, stringing wires—something shifted. By year's end, he'd applied to Stellenbosch University for viticulture and oenology, trading spreadsheets for soil.

This origin story matters because it reveals Andersen's foundation: collaboration and creating authentic experiences through high-quality fruit. The boys didn't taste wine that year—they built the infrastructure for it. They learned the unglamorous truth that great wine begins with good people making hard decisions in vineyards, not cellars.

Listen With Your Ears, Steal With Your Eyes

Andersen's formative years read like a winemaking apprenticeship spanning three continents. Thelema, with Duncan Clarke and Rudi Schultz, taught him flexibility—that winemaking isn't black and white, that low pH doesn't always demand acid additions, that natural ferments can work if the fruit permits. Château Angelus in Saint-Émilion handed him responsibility: interns given more freedom over managing the smaller châteaux, calculating yeast additions, and executing pump-overs relatively unsupervised.

Then came Stonestreet in Sonoma, where a fellow South African offered advice that changed his philosophy on teaching: "Listen with your ears and steal with your eyes." The cellar was large and busy; the winemakers stretched thin across many responsibilities. "It wasn't as personalised," Andersen reflects diplomatically. "Not as rich or fulfilling as France." Yet the experience taught him something valuable about scale and mentorship.

Here's the revelation buried in that contrast: Andersen learned that scale without intimacy produces wine, but not winemakers. When he returned to Thelema for a third harvest, then spent five years between Stellenzicht and Ernie Els under L'Re Hughes and Louis Strydom, he absorbed what truly mattered—two mentors, different philosophies, teaching him to wear different hats without losing his head.

The Calculated Risk That Wasn't Really a Gamble

When Morgenster called in 2023, Andersen had been Louis Strydom's assistant at Ernie Els for barely ten months. The opportunity was obvious—head winemaker at a prestigious estate.

"If you want to make a name for yourself, you need to get out there and take some risks," Andersen says. But when pressed, he reframes it: "Calculated risk. I knew what I was walking into." What kept him awake wasn't impostor syndrome or fear of failure—it was losing the relationships he'd built over years of 16-hour days, six days a week. "Those people become your family."

The move reveals Andersen's positioning philosophy: quality demands stability, but growth requires disruption. Morgenster offered the right opportunity at the right time—a woman-led team (owner Federica Bertrand and her daughter Vittoria), a young farm manager, and the autonomy to carry on and grow the legacy. His first reserve blend won't be released for six or seven years. He's playing the long game, serving as custodian of a brand built over decades while adding his own chapter to the story.

Federica Bertrand with Vittoria Castagnetta.

Why Italian Varietals Offer Creative Expression

Morgenster stretches across 200 hectares with three distinct valleys: the Bordeaux Valley behind the cellar (Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot), Pioneer Valley near the manor house (older Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, olive orchards), and the Italian Valley—pure Nebbiolo and Sangiovese territory.

"Each valley, each block has its own personality," Andersen explains. "Nebbiolo is so terroir-expressive. What we're getting in the younger block compared to the older block—chalk and cheese, both in good ways. The older block has structure and depth; the younger block has vibrant fruit."

When I ask the dangerous question—if forced to choose between Bordeaux or Italian—Andersen pauses, then commits: "I might get myself in hot water, but the Italian varietals do very well. If we want to be more unique, I'd focus there. It's quite a niche market in South Africa, and people enjoy it."

This isn't trend-chasing. It's recognition that authenticity drives differentiation in a saturated market. Bordeaux blends are South Africa's lingua franca—excellent, competitive, but crowded. Italian varietals speak with a distinct accent, especially when filtered through Helderberg terroir. While Bordeaux remains Morgenster's focus in terms of volumes and export markets, the Italian varietals give Andersen the creative space to express himself and explore what's possible when tradition meets experimentation.

The Vintage That Taught Through Smoke

Every winemaker remembers their vintage from hell. For Andersen, 2016 at Thelema delivered a masterclass in adaptation. Massive fires swept through Simonsberg just as harvest began, with smoke taint threatening entire blocks. "Once it's there, it's very difficult to get rid of it or to try and mask it."

The real lesson wasn't technical—it was philosophical. "As long as you know about the problem, you can fix it," he tells his interns now. Blending became salvation, not compromise. The 2017 Sonoma fires reinforced it: winemaking rewards those who see obstacles as invitations to experiment with different products, different approaches, different outcomes.

This resilience defines Andersen's sustainability approach at Morgenster—not organic certification's bureaucratic rigidity, but pragmatic intervention. Hybrid pruning systems combat wind damage in rocky Sauvignon Blanc blocks. Compost from cellar waste feeds vineyards and olive orchards. Beneficial insects control mealybug populations. To encourage biodiversity, the estate uses cover crops throughout the vineyards. "Sustainability and quality aren't mutually exclusive," he insists. "Usually, sustainability brings quality."

Whom Do You Fear When You're Selling 15,000 Bottles?

I pose my final question about legacy and judgment—whose opinion matters most when blending wines? Andersen deflects gracefully: "If I'm sitting here on a Sunday afternoon and hear people raving about the Vermentino or Sangiovese Rosé—for me, that's what I enjoy most. If you're selling 15,000 bottles of Cabernet Franc a year, as long as people enjoy it, that's what matters."

The estate's Giulio range tells another story about honouring legacy while making it accessible. Named for Giulio Bertrand, Morgenster's founder and opera devotee, each varietal carries an opera name—Vespri, Caruso, Nabucco, and Tosca. Graft Design captured something clever in the labels: Giulio's enlarged handwritten signature becomes the focal point, as if he's personally signing off on wines he inspired decades ago.

Paired with refined typography and a minimalist layout, the Italian-leaning palette of red, green, and blue creates labels that feel at home in both an opera house and on an everyday table. It's the visual embodiment of what Andersen does in the cellar—respect the legacy, but make it approachable.

Giulio's signature on every bottle—Graft Design makes legacy personal.

This philosophy—volume as validation, enjoyment as the metric—reframes what success means for a young winemaker at a historic estate. Critics matter, owners matter, but the Sunday afternoon raver is the cherry on top. That's brand identity meeting authentic experience: wine that prompts conversation, not just consumption.

"If you want to be in those conversations, you need to get yourself there," Andersen reflects. "But I just trust my gut, back myself, and surround myself with good people—Carl Schultz, Louis Strydom, Duncan Clarke, and Gavin Slabbert. People who give sound advice and support when you need it."

When I suggest he's far from an impostor, he pauses: "I don't really doubt myself. But it's good to have a soundboard, because if you're just in a cellar tasting your own wine, you become polarised. You need to know what's happening in the industry."

Perfect positioning isn't about predicting the future—it's about building relationships that anchor you when trends shift, embracing quality fruit that demands less intervention, crafting stories that resonate beyond the bottle, and creating experiences worth discussing long after the wine's gone.

Matthew Andersen married his Italian love affair at 30. The high school sweetheart still gets pride of place at Morgenster, as it should—Bordeaux is the legacy he's custodian of. But those Italian varietals? They're where he gets to play, experiment, and explore what happens when tradition makes room for creative expression. And that balance is worth celebrating.

A note for 2026: I'm exploring a handful of sponsorship partnerships with organisations that share a commitment to independent wine industry thinking. Interested? Email me.  

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

Is Anybody Listening?

A viral post from a boxed wine startup recently accused an industry giant of blatant copying. The evidence was damning: marketing imagery that looked suspiciously similar, right down to the founder's hand still visible in the shot.

Hundreds of likes and comments. A tidal wave of sympathy for the bootstrapped innovators versus the soulless corporate goliath.

But here's the question nobody's asking: What if being copied proves you've built the wrong thing?

Not the unethical thing. Not the unsuccessful thing. The strategically vulnerable thing.

Because the wine industry's chronic inability to distinguish between validation and defensibility is costing founders everything. And the sympathy you're getting on social media? It won't save you when that corporate giant with 300 times your budget takes your market share.

The Copycat Complaint

The startup in question, Juliet Wine, launched a premium boxed wine targeting modern women. Then, Riboli Family Wines—a company 300 times their size—launched Lena, a product strikingly similar in format, price point, and design cues. If Riboli genuinely used Juliet's imagery without permission, that crosses a legal line and deserves calling out.

But here's where the founder's response becomes strategically questionable. The reassuring refrain: "You can copy our positioning, our copy, our imagery. But you can't copy our community, our hustle, our impact, our creativity, the women behind the brand."

This mythology is seductive but dangerous. Sometimes you get copied because you've cracked something brilliant and the market recognises it. But often—more often than founders want to admit—you get copied because you've spent marketing dollars educating a market, making a category palatable, and a bigger player simply harvests what you've planted. That's not validation. That's capitalism being ruthlessly efficient.

The real question isn't whether imitation is flattery. It's whether your positioning is defensible.

The Listening Problem in Wine

Your post will get engagement. But will it change behaviour? Will it prompt founders to build deeper moats? Will it make established players reconsider their copycat strategies?

Unlikely. Because the wine industry has a chronic listening problem that manifests in three distinct ways:

Confirmation Bias on Steroids

We listen to people who already agree with us. Juliet's post resonates with other emerging brands facing similar challenges. But established players aren't reconsidering their approach—they're counting the efficiency gains from letting startups do their R&D for free.

Mistaking Engagement for Impact

Social media creates an illusion that viral posts equal influence. Likes and shares feel like momentum. But they rarely translate to strategic shifts. Sympathy doesn't build moats.

Generational Deafness

Many legacy wine businesses operate with mental models from the 1990s, when scale, distribution muscle, and shelf space dominance were sufficient advantages. They're not listening because they fundamentally don't believe the game has changed. They see emerging brands as cute experiments, not existential warnings about where customer loyalty actually lives now.

Who IS Listening?

Three groups are paying attention:

The Already Converted understand that relationship-driven, community-focused brands represent the future. But they're not the ones who need convincing.

The Vultures are listening intently—but only to extract what they can replicate cheaply. They're monitoring which formats gain traction, which design cues resonate, and which price points work. They're treating emerging brands as free market research. They're listening in the worst possible way.

The Rare Strategic Thinkers understand that the future belongs to defensible positioning, not first-mover advantage. They're building collaborations, investing in relationships, thinking five moves ahead. This group is painfully small.

The Positioning Problem

Here's the uncomfortable truth: if someone can copy you this easily, you haven't built enough that's truly yours.

Think about Apple. Ferrari. Patagonia. Can anybody copy them?

Nope.

Not because competitors lack the resources or technical capability. But because what makes those brands valuable exists in a dimension that transcends product attributes. Apple isn't just sleek hardware. Ferrari isn't just about fast cars. Patagonia isn't just durable outdoor gear.

They've built ecosystems of meaning that would take decades to replicate—and even then, the copy would feel like exactly that: a copy.

Here's what those three have in common: they were founder-driven businesses where the founders became legends. Steve Jobs. Enzo Ferrari. Yvon Chouinard.

These weren't just entrepreneurs—they were prophets with vision so singular, so uncompromising, that the brand became inseparable from their philosophy. Jobs didn't just want to make computers; he wanted to put "a dent in the universe." Ferrari wasn't building cars; he was creating "art in motion" born from racing obsession. Chouinard didn't just sell climbing gear; he built a company that would "use business to save our home planet."

The product was simply the physical manifestation of a deeper worldview.

That's what makes them impossible to copy. You can't replicate decades of accumulated meaning, cultural resonance built through consistent action, or the mythology that accrues around founders who genuinely didn't compromise.

The Founder Advantage Wine Keeps Missing

Wine should be perfectly positioned for this kind of founder-driven brand building. We have legendary figures: winemakers who've dedicated their lives to specific terroirs, families who've stewarded land for generations, visionaries who've revolutionised entire regions.

But here's where most wine founders stumble: they become known for their wine rather than for a philosophy that wine expresses.

Jobs wasn't famous for making great computers. He was famous for believing technology should be beautiful, intuitive, and accessible. The computers were proof of that belief.

Enzo Ferrari wasn't famous for fast cars. He was famous for an obsessive, uncompromising pursuit of racing perfection. The cars were evidence.

Chouinard isn't famous for durable jackets. He's famous for proving you can build a profitable business that actively tries to sell you less stuff while fighting environmental degradation. The gear is a byproduct.

Most wine founders flip this equation. They lead with product attributes—sustainable farming, minimal intervention, old vines, terroir expression—rather than with a worldview that those practices serve.

The difference is everything.

When someone copies your packaging or format, or price point, they can't touch the founder-driven mythology built on years of consistent, visible commitment to something larger than wine itself.

Think about what Randall Grahm built with Bonny Doon—a philosophical project about challenging California wine orthodoxy, celebrating European tradition, and embracing experimentation. You could copy his labels (people tried). You couldn't copy Randall.

Or what Aubert de Villaine represents at Domaine de la Romanée-Conti—not just extraordinary wine, but centuries of stewardship philosophy, of patience as strategy, of quality so uncompromising it borders on irrational.

What Creates Defensible Positioning

So what does this mean for emerging wine brands worried about being copied?

The premium boxed wine space Juliet occupies is ultimately defined by convenience and value. Those are the least defensible positions in wine. You can't own convenience. Value is a race to the bottom.

But you can build something around the founder's vision that transcends format. This means cultivating a genuine community that requires constant attention, not just marketing claims about connection. It means developing production stories that can't be replicated—terroir relationships, winemaking philosophies, and sourcing partnerships that create structural advantages no amount of capital can instantly buy. It means creating authentic experiences that generate emotional switching costs, where customers stay not because your product is marginally better but because leaving would feel like betrayal.

The brands that succeed in building defensible positions understand that distribution partnerships should function as curation rather than mere logistics, and that cultural resonance needs to run so deep that any competitor attempting to copy you would look foolish rather than threatening. When you've positioned correctly, imitation becomes flattery that reinforces your original status rather than a genuine competitive threat.

Brands that position around product attributes—format, price, packaging—get copied. Brands that position around meaning—culture, values, relationships—create loyalty that borders on religion.

The Uncomfortable Conclusion

Most people in wine aren't listening. They're hearing, maybe—but listening requires action, and action requires acknowledging discomfort.

The people who are listening, who understand that perfect positioning beats first-mover advantage, will compound advantages while everyone else is busy imitating packaging.

The tragedy is watching brilliant founders exhaust themselves shouting into the void when they should be quietly building moats.

Riboli entering the premium boxed wine space might actually help Juliet by expanding category awareness and retail distribution. The rising tide theory isn't just consultant-speak—it's how speciality beer, craft spirits, and premium coffee all evolved.

The question is whether Juliet can convert that expanded category interest into sustained preference. That requires moving beyond "we were here first" and into "we're irreplaceable."

A Note to Founders Who've Been Copied

Channel your rage into differentiation, not litigation. If someone can copy you this easily, you haven't built enough that's truly yours.

Double down on what makes you actually distinctive. And if the answer is "we did it first," you're already losing.

Build relationships with producers, retailers, and customers that create structural advantages. Make wine in a way that reflects a point of view that can't be photocopied. Tell stories that come from lived experience.

And maybe, just maybe, send your copycat a thank-you note. Because nothing focuses the mind like knowing someone's breathing down your neck.

The companies that will win aren't listening to what happened—they're listening to what it means. They're hearing the deeper signal about why things work, not just that they are working.

The question isn't whether the wine industry is listening.

The question is: are you?

A note for 2026: I'm exploring a handful of sponsorship partnerships with organisations that share a commitment to independent wine industry thinking. Interested? Email me.  

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Meet Nadia Barnard-Langenegger, who learned she'd become Waterkloof's head winemaker while recovering from jaw surgery in ICU. At 30, she inherited one of the Cape's most ambitious estates and promptly refused to be paralysed by the responsibility. Her secret? Calculated naivety and an obsessive focus on what's directly in front of her.

Today, she's crafting wines that change vintage to vintage, managing 1.5 million bottles annually, and championing a collaborative vision for South African wine's future. This isn't your typical winemaker profile. This is about someone who discovered that ignoring conventional wisdom might be the smartest strategy of all.

Find out why…

The Winemaker Who Refuses to Play It Safe

Nadia Barnard-Langenegger learned she'd become Waterkloof's head winemaker while lying in ICU, her jaw freshly reconstructed after major surgery. Congratulatory messages flooded her phone as the anaesthesia wore off. She was 30 years old, about to steer one of the Cape's most ambitious wine estates, and her first thought? "Sometimes ignorance is bliss."

That calculated naivety has become her superpower. While most winemakers in her position would have crumbled under the weight of expectation, Nadia simply refused to acknowledge it. "I just take it bit by bit," she says in Afrikaans-inflected English, describing how she manages a winery producing 1.5 million bottles annually. "Next week we're bottling. I'm focusing on that. My boss arrives. I'm focusing on that. During harvest, I give it my all and focus on that."

It's a philosophy that shouldn't work when you're shipping 83% of your wines to international markets. Yet here's the revelation: her refusal to be paralysed by the enormity of her role has freed her to make the most honest wines of her career.

When "Minimal Intervention" Actually Means More Work

Ask most winemakers about minimal intervention, and you'll get predictable answers about "letting the grapes speak." Nadia cuts through that romanticism with surgical precision. "When you make natural wine, you have a lot more risk of microbial spoilage than if you add a packet of yeast. You have to be more technical when it comes to cellar hygiene."

This is where theory meets reality beautifully. Waterkloof's regenerative approach isn't a marketing flourish—it's a daily commitment that transforms 4.5 tonnes of food waste from a local supplier into fungi-rich compost over 12 months, reaching temperatures of 146 degrees. The estate's 16 Nguni cows (which replaced the romantic but ultimately impractical Percheron horses) provide manure that's mixed with plant cuttings and vegetable offcuts, creating a living soil system that feeds the vines without chemicals.

But here's where it gets genuinely fascinating: during winter, they take cow manure and bury it inside a cow womb beneath the soil, extracting it the following season when it's transformed into something that smells like earth itself, rich with mycorrhizal fungi. This gets mixed in a vortex of water and spread among young vines, extending their root systems' absorption capacity.

"Nothing in life comes easily," Nadia observes. "You need to sometimes put a bit of effort in."

That effort manifests in wines that express vintage variation rather than consistency—a stance that runs counter to conventional wisdom about building a brand. "I don't have to make a wine every year that tastes like last year's wine," she explains. "I make a wine that represents the vintage, as well as the terroir."

The Burgundian Thread Through a South African Tapestry

When Nadia emptied that wooden fermentor filled with Charmes-Chambertin grapes in Burgundy, something fundamental shifted. "If I could drink Burgundy for the rest of my life, I'd be very happy," she admits. But she didn't return to Somerset West, attempting to mimic Côte d'Or. Instead, she absorbed Burgundy's essence: elegance through restraint.

Her Sauvignon Blanc undergoes malolactic fermentation to balance Schapenberg's naturally high acidity. The wines spend an extended time on lees. She whole-bunch presses and allows spontaneous fermentation from vineyard yeasts. The estate's white wines aren't bottled until late in the year, sometimes after the next harvest—a decision that kills cash flow but preserves integrity.

"Some wineries released their 2025 white wines in March," she notes without judgment. "That's how they like to do it. Each to their own. I know what I enjoy and how I like to make my wines."

It's a perfect demonstration of how exceptional fruit from balanced, regenerative vineyards creates wines that offer something genuinely different, vintage to vintage—authentic experiences you can't replicate with formulas. The new Chardonnay, "Unborrowed Time," leans toward Chablis—mineral-driven, higher acid, restrained oak. It's a wine that reveals more about Nadia's palate than any tasting note could.

The Curveballs That Define a Winemaker

The 2014 vintage threw Nadia her first real test as head winemaker. November 2013's deluge—50 millimetres in 30 minutes—produced contracted vineyard blocks yielding 12 to 15 tonnes instead of the expected seven. Quality remained intact because Waterkloof's deep-rooted vines on windswept Schapenberg rarely exceed five to eight tonnes per hectare, well below the overcropping threshold. But managing the unexpected volume required quick thinking.

Then came 2020. COVID-19 arrived while grapes were still on the skins in the cellar. Six months pregnant, with her cellar team too terrified to work, Nadia and her husband finished the vintage alone.

And 2023 delivered late-March rains that caught most Stellenbosch producers mid-harvest. Nadia had picked everything except one Mourvèdre block that wasn't yet ripe. "That rain was fine for that block," she recalls. "We did work a little bit in the winery with tannins to control the mildew. But that was a massive curveball."

These weren't just technical challenges—they were tests of philosophy. When does minimal intervention become negligence? When does trusting the process become foolishness? Nadia's answer: You develop intimate knowledge of every critical control point, you tick your boxes obsessively, and you trust your team.

Empowerment as Winemaking Philosophy

"What's a happy cellar?" I ask.

"To empower people," Nadia responds instantly. "To involve people and to empower people."

Her cellar hand, Mervin, started the same day she did, over 15 years ago. Roelien began in the vineyards, progressed to the cellar, and eventually worked a harvest in Burgundy with Waterkloof's support. There's no hierarchy at the sorting table—Nadia stands alongside her team, checking every picking crate.

Here, relationships and collaboration aren't abstractions but the foundation of everything. When COVID threatened to shatter that foundation, the entire Waterkloof team held together. Nadia conducted tastings with American importers at 2 am, hosted numerous Facebook Live sessions, and created YouTube videos with Paul Boutinot to keep the Waterkloof message alive.

"We've had difficult times," Nadia acknowledges. "The wine industry at the moment is not doing exceptionally well. But we're pushing onwards, and we are all working together." 

Waterkloof tasting room Sommelier, Busisiwe.

The Future Belongs to Collaborators

Ask Nadia about South African wine's future, and she becomes animated. "The future of the South African wine industry is in our hands. We need to make sure that we go above and beyond to tell our story, to be relevant, and to educate non-wine consumers."

This is where storytelling becomes inseparable from industry survival. But Nadia's vision extends beyond individual estate narratives. "If South Africans, the South African wine industry, will collaborate more and stand together, which we are doing at the moment, we're just going to go from strength to strength."

She's witnessed this collaborative spirit across harvest stints in Chablis, Coonawarra, and Nelson. "I have worked in quite a few different regions in the world. We work together. And if we're going to keep that philosophy, we will go from strength to strength."

When I probe about whether South Africa does enough to promote itself overseas, she's pragmatic: "I don't think we're ever doing enough. We can always do more. But sometimes you also need to think outside of the box a little bit."

The Nadia Factor

"What is the Nadia factor?" I ask. "What do you bring unique to your craft?"

She doesn't hesitate: "I give it my all. Whatever I do, I always give it my all. I don't go halfway. I don't take the easier route. I always try to do everything that I do to the best of my ability."

It's 6 a.m. when she arrives at Waterkloof, and she stays until the last person leaves. During harvest, her family visits her in the cellar. This isn't martyrdom—it's love made visible through labour.

Her plans? "To just make better wines. To make sure that people see Waterkloof as a top destination. And that if people think about Waterkloof, they think of exceptional quality."

Standing on Schapenberg Hill, overlooking False Bay with the Atlantic breeze carrying salt and fynbos aromas, you understand what Paul Boutinot saw when he chose this site: the potential for truly fine wine with a defining sense of origin. What he couldn't have known was that the young woman recovering from jaw surgery in 2013 would become the perfect steward of that vision—not despite her refusal to be overwhelmed by responsibility, but because of it.

Nadia Barnard-Langenegger makes wines she loves, vintage by vintage, block by block, day by day. In an industry obsessed with consistency and playing it safe, that might be the most radical philosophy of all.

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

In this week's edition, we're tackling the competitive advantage most wineries overlook—the one asset your competitors can't replicate, no matter how much they spend. It's not what you think.

Here’s why…

Picture courtesy of Jcomp/Freepik.

Why Trust Is the Ultimate Competitive Advantage

Your competitors can copy everything except the one thing that matters most.

Research shows that 91% of consumers are likely or very likely to buy from a company they trust. Lose that trust, and 71% won't come back. The math is brutal, the message clear: trust isn't a soft skill anymore—it's the hardest currency in business.

Seth Godin put it perfectly: "Playing safe is very risky." In an era where every winery can access the same technology, hire the same consultants, and copy the same marketing playbooks, trust has become the one asset your competitors can't replicate. While everyone else chases the illusion of safety through conformity, the real risk lies in being forgettable.

Here's what the wine industry hasn't fully grasped yet: trust doesn't follow quality—it creates it in the consumer's mind. And in 2025, that perception gap between what you make and what people believe you make determines whether you survive or thrive.

Trust Outperforms Price in the Minds That Matter Most

The data reveals something counterintuitive about modern wine consumers. Studies indicate that approximately 70% of Gen Z are more likely to spend more with businesses they trust, with research showing up to 90% willing to pay at least a 10% premium for trusted brands. These aren't anomalies—they're the early signals of a fundamental shift in how value gets calculated.

Think about that for a moment. These younger consumers don't see wine purchases as transactions. They see them as endorsements of their values, reflections of their identity, and investments in relationships with producers who earn their confidence. When a 28-year-old chooses your Chenin Blanc over a cheaper alternative, they're not buying fermented grapes—they're buying into your story, your authenticity, and your demonstrated commitment to what you claim to stand for.

The traditional wine hierarchy—where price signalled quality and experts relied on regional pedigree—is collapsing under the weight of a trust economy. Novice buyers still use price as a proxy for quality, but the emerging consumer class that will define the next three decades operates differently. They'll research your farming practices, scrutinise your labour policies, and Google whether you actually meant what you said about regenerative viticulture. Then they'll make their purchasing decision based on whether your actions match your words.

This represents a complete inversion of how the wine business has operated for centuries. We've moved from "trust me because I'm expensive" to "I'll pay more because I trust you." And if you're not seeing this shift yet, you're not paying attention.

The Architecture of Modern Wine Trust Lives in Three Dimensions

Building trust in today's wine landscape requires understanding its three-dimensional nature. First, there's the vertical dimension—the connection between vineyard and glass. Blockchain-enabled traceability isn't just Silicon Valley hype; research shows it genuinely influences buying decisions by making the invisible visible. When consumers can trace their Pinotage back to the specific vineyard block, harvest date, and winemaking decisions, you're not just selling transparency—you're selling certainty. And certainty, in an uncertain world, commands a premium.

The horizontal dimension encompasses peer-to-peer trust. Online reviews and social proof have become the modern sommelier, with industry surveys showing that 88% of customers would recommend trusted companies to others. This word-of-mouth amplification turns satisfied customers into brand evangelists who carry more credibility than any advertising campaign you could afford. Here in the Western Cape, I've watched small family estates build international reputations not through marketing budgets but through authentic relationships that customers felt compelled to share. That's not marketing magic—that's trust doing what trust does best.

The temporal dimension—consistency over time—might be the most challenging to maintain and the most valuable when achieved. Delivering on promises repeatedly creates the reliability that transforms first-time buyers into loyal advocates. This consistency shows up everywhere: the wine quality year after year, the accuracy of your tasting notes, the alignment between your sustainability claims and actual practices, and even how you handle the inevitable vintage variations and challenges. It's unglamorous work, but it's the work that matters.

What Apple and Patagonia Understand That Most Wineries Don't

Look outside our industry for a moment. Apple doesn't compete primarily on specifications—they've built an ecosystem of trust where customers assume each new product will deliver on unstated promises about design, usability, and integration. They've earned the right to charge premium prices not through superior technology (though that helps) but through decades of meeting expectations so consistently that "it just works" became their unspoken guarantee.

Patagonia took an even bolder approach. They actively discourage overconsumption, repair products for free, and publish the environmental cost of everything they make. This radical transparency doesn't hurt sales—it drives them. Their "Don't Buy This Jacket" campaign became legendary not despite its anti-commercial message but because of it. The trust they built through authentic commitment to their values created customers willing to pay significantly more and wait longer for products.

Both companies understand what many wineries miss: trust isn't built through marketing messages but through the alignment of words and actions over time. When Patagonia says they care about the environment, their supply chain proves it. When Apple promises seamless integration, your devices demonstrate it. The message and the experience form a continuous loop that reinforces trust with every interaction.

South African wineries pioneering certified sustainable farming aren't just reducing their environmental impact—they're building trust capital that justifies premium pricing and creates customer loyalty that survives economic downturns. The estates that have embraced biodynamic practices, published their carbon footprints, and openly discussed their journey (including the mistakes) have discovered something valuable: vulnerability, when paired with genuine commitment, builds stronger connections than perfection ever could. And isn't that refreshing?

Trust Isn't Built in Blind Tastings—It's Forged in Relationships

The wine industry's traditional obsession with blind tastings reveals a fundamental misunderstanding about how people actually choose wine. Strip away the label, the story, the relationship with the producer, and yes, experts can often identify quality. But that's not how 99% of wine gets bought.

Real purchasing decisions happen in the context of relationships, stories, and accumulated trust. When a sommelier recommends your wine, they're transferring their trust equity to your brand. When a customer visits your tasting room and meets the winemaker who discusses harvest decisions and vintage challenges with unvarnished honesty, they're building a relationship that transcends the liquid in the glass. This is where wine stops being a commodity and becomes personal.

This is where the four pillars of wine's future intersect most powerfully. Quality grapes and thoughtful winemaking create the foundation—you can't build lasting trust on inconsistent or flawed products. But that quality only becomes valuable when wrapped in authentic experiences that feel genuine rather than manufactured. Your story gives context and meaning to that quality, transforming technical excellence into emotional connection. And the collaborative relationships you build—with growers, retailers, restaurants, and customers—amplify that trust across networks.

The estates thriving in South Africa's competitive landscape aren't necessarily making the highest-scoring wines. They're the ones whose tasting room staff know regular customers by name, whose winemakers respond personally to Instagram comments, and whose consistency allows retailers to recommend them with confidence. They've recognised that in a world of infinite choice, relationships built on trust are the only reliable filter. Everything else is just noise competing for attention.

The Trust Deficit Costs More Than You Think

Here's the sobering reality: research indicates that 37% of consumers switched brands in the past year due to lost trust. Not because of price. Not because they found something better. Because trust eroded. Industry forecasts predict brand loyalty will drop by up to 25%, and that decline hits wineries particularly hard because wine purchases involve higher risk and more personal expression than most consumer goods.

When trust breaks through inconsistent quality, misleading marketing, or the gap between claimed and actual values, the cost extends far beyond a single lost customer. That person tells an average of fifteen others about their disappointment. Online reviews amplify that dissatisfaction. The opportunity cost of broken trust includes not just the immediate sale but every future purchase they would have made, every recommendation they would have given, and every defence of your brand they might have mounted when others criticised it.

The mathematics of trust works in reverse, too. According to consumer research, 81% of consumers need to trust a brand before considering a purchase, and separate surveys show that business executives overwhelmingly agree that trust improves the bottom line. These aren't soft metrics—they're hard evidence that trust drives measurable financial outcomes. The business case isn't just compelling—it's irrefutable.

The Future Belongs to the Trustworthy, Not the Perfect

The path forward requires rejecting the industry's traditional obsession with projected perfection. Modern consumers, particularly the value-driven buyers who prioritise sustainability and ethics alongside quality, respond more authentically to honest narratives that acknowledge complexity than to polished marketing that pretends challenges don't exist.

This means discussing vintage variation openly rather than positioning every release as the best. It means explaining farming decisions and their trade-offs rather than claiming unqualified sustainability. It means building customer relationships that outlast any single transaction and viewing every interaction as an investment in long-term trust rather than short-term sales. It means being human in an industry that too often mistakes formality for sophistication.

The competitive advantage of trust emerges from this consistency between claim and reality, promise and delivery, image and substance. In a marketplace where competitors can copy your varietals, match your pricing, and mimic your marketing, they cannot replicate the trust you've built through years of authentic engagement and delivered promises.

Trust isn't the soft alternative to business hardball—it's the ultimate competitive weapon in an age of infinite choice and diminishing differentiation. The question isn't whether you can afford to invest in building trust. It's whether you can afford not to.

Because when research consistently shows that the vast majority of consumers will choose you if they trust you, and most will abandon you if that trust breaks, playing it safe by following the crowd isn't just risky—it's potentially fatal. The future of wine belongs to those brave enough to be consistently, authentically trustworthy.

And everything else? Well, that's just everyone else making the same wine, telling the same stories, chasing the same scores, and wondering why nobody's listening anymore.

Mike Carter is a Wine Futurist based in Cape Town, South Africa, who believes the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning. Want to dive deeper? Download his complimentary book Master Positioning, or connect on LinkedIn for more contrarian thinking about wine's future.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

This week, we're exploring what happens when creative freedom collides with institutional expectations. Carl Schultz didn't plan to leave Hartenberg after 32 years as cellarmaster, but when the ability to "paint the picture like I saw it" narrowed to something more prescriptive, he faced an impossible choice. 

At 60, with thinner financial cushions and no safety net, he launched Solo Wines—not as a retirement project, but as a winemaker liberated. From regenerative agriculture breakthroughs to investment-grade wines built for decades, Carl reveals the hidden costs of compromise and why some calamities hide extraordinary opportunities. 

This is his story, unfiltered.

The Unexpected Liberation of Carl Schultz

After 32 years as Hartenberg's cellarmaster, Carl Schultz didn't leave on his terms. He left because the creative freedom that defined his career—the ability to "paint the picture like I saw it and like I felt"—had narrowed to something more prescriptive. The winds of change were blowing, and rather than drift with them, he chose to chart his own course. What looked like an ending became the catalyst for something more audacious: Solo Wines by Carl Schultz, launched in January 2025.

This isn't a retirement project or a vanity label. It's a winemaker at the height of his powers, liberated from institutional expectations, channelling decades of expertise into wines that answer to no one but him.

When Leaving at the Peak Means Starting Over

The dream was always to finish like Usain Bolt—bow out at the pinnacle, legacy intact. But wine estates aren't neutral stages. They're living entities shaped by ownership philosophies, and when those shift, the winemaker faces a choice: adapt or exit.

"I was following a dream of Ken McKenzie," Carl explains, referring to Hartenberg's previous ownership vision. "Eventually, you need to decide whether you want to go a certain path or whether you need to do like Usain Bolt and leave at a high point."

The departure hurt. Rumours circulated that he left in a huff, desperate to make his own wine. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Hartenberg is my brand, it is my life. I gave my working life for that brand," he says. The catalyst wasn't ambition—it was the erosion of creative autonomy. "When you no longer can paint with total freedom and it becomes a bit more prescriptive and you feel that it affects the quality of one's work, then you need to ask serious questions."

At 60, starting over wasn't the plan. The timing was daunting, the financial cushion thinner than it would have been in five years. But here's where Carl's philosophy crystallises: "The wine industry can be very humbling. My favourite winemakers are really good at what they do, but they stay true to who they are and they're humble."

The Name That Found Him When He Needed It Most

"Solo" wasn't a calculated brand strategy. It was a gift from Philip Costandius, a former chairman of the Cape Winemakers Guild and the brainchild behind the Cape Winemakers Guild Development Trust and its Protégé Program. Philip had registered the name in 1988, when going independent was radical. Carl had always loved the name and even joked about buying it one day.

When the Hartenberg chapter closed, the loneliness was visceral. "It gnaws at your core. It was lonely. There were times when you felt, this is it, you're on your own."

Then Philip called. The name wasn't for sale—he was giving it away. No charge. Just one winemaker passing a torch to another.

"The goodwill is amazing," Carl reflects. "You just shake your head sometimes and think, wow. You worry about something, and then all of a sudden, maybe not in your time, but all of a sudden, there's an answer."

Solo became more than a brand. It's the philosophical anchor: doing it his way, on his terms, proudly the sole director. And perhaps, one day, a legacy for his son Mark, currently in his second year of wine studies.

Quality Through Scarcity, Not Volume

Carl's production philosophy is elegantly simple: as small as possible without compromising quality. At Hartenberg, he created five super-premium wines, producing 200 to 500 cases each. That's his ceiling. Not because he lacks ambition, but because he understands the elastic relationship between quality and quantity.

"Compromise is for relationships, it's not for grape quality," he states flatly. It's the kind of clarity that comes from watching one of Bordeaux's great estates—Château Margaux—maintain their chosen path across 27 generations. They don't chase fashion. They build their reputation through uncompromising consistency.

His 2025 vintage reds won't hit the market until 2028. Not because he needs time to craft a story, but because his wines need the time.. Meanwhile, he's sourced exceptional parcels maturing in barrel from CWG colleagues and other winemaker friends: a Cabernet from Bottelary, a remarkable Op die Tradoux Merlot, a cool microclimate anomaly in the Little Karoo where the altitude permits high-end grape and fruit production, and pea-sized Wellington Shiraz from premium terroir. These “buy-back” 2023 and 2024 bottlings will bridge the gap while his own vineyard selections age as needed.

The approach is surgical: buy the top five barrels from a property's 100-barrel production, blend sources if necessary, and polish without rushing. "The wine will get one chance to make the desired impression with customers, so let's make the right impression."

Expect wines built for the long game. Over the weekend, Carl opened a 2002 Hartenberg Estate Cabernet. Twenty-three years on, it hadn't started discolouring—still black and red, absolutely sublime, poised for another decade. That's the Solo Wines blueprint: collectable expressions that reward patience and deliver enjoyment across decades.

The Regenerative Revolution That Actually Works

Carl's environmental consciousness runs deep. His three career options coming out of school—deciduous fruit farming, forestry, and floral conservation—all centred on plants and ecosystems. Within weeks of joining Hartenberg, he was clearing alien vegetation from the 66-hectare indigenous wetland that forms the property's heart.

But environmental stewardship at Hartenberg wasn't a single leap. Over three decades, Carl orchestrated a methodical evolution from conventional agriculture toward something more sophisticated. Mixed seed cover cropping replaced monoculture. Undervine mulching became standard practice. The estate transitioned from sprinkler to microjet irrigation, then to drip systems. Working with Austrian hydrologist Eric Schmollgruber, Carl developed a closed-loop cellar and domestic effluent water system that to this day ensures complete water reuse back to the vineyard—a non-chemical model almost unique in agriculture and certainly groundbreaking.

Alongside Dr Gerhard Pietersen and Andre van Rensburg, Carl helped pioneer biological control for one of the global wine industry's biggest challenges: Leafroll Virus. The solution? Annual releases of endemic predatory insects that prey on the virus carrier, the mealybug. Natural warfare, elegantly deployed.

The real paradigm shift arrived about a decade ago with regenerative agriculture, and Carl draws a hard line: it's the future, not organic viticulture.

"Every symposium I've spoken at or attended, advocates of organic viticulture acknowledge the philosophy is littered with risk when it comes to financial viability," he argues. The evidence supports him—proponents routinely revert to standard practice in adverse weather vintages. The culprit? Copper-based sprays for annual mildew control. It's a heavy metal with legal limits in wine, accumulating in soils after centuries of use. When Italy's parliament recently withdrew organic food production subsidies due to disappointing yields, the writing was on the wall. The math doesn't work for food security or sustained business viability.

Regenerative agriculture, by contrast, delivered measurable gains at Hartenberg: 40% cost reduction over the four months when cattle enter the vineyards, elimination of weed spraying, zero fuel costs or man-hours for herbicide application, and three tonnes per hectare of natural compost from grazing cattle during dormancy. The key is precision timing and soil cover—hoofed animals on vegetated ground during appropriate moisture levels and timeframes avoid compaction while naturally managing weeds.

"If you hand it back to nature, it's cheaper, it's way more effective," Carl says. The goal was to prepare for a water-scarce future by increasing soil carbon levels. The water savings, still being quantified but proven in laboratory settings, will be the ultimate vindication.

Then came the kicker. Over three years, Carl ran trials comparing Shiraz parcels with and without cattle intervention. The wines from cattle-grazed blocks showed marked, positive differences. Better fruit, better wine. Nature wasn't just cheaper—it was delivering superior quality.

No one accused him of losing the plot. The science was sound. Industry scepticism gave way to grudging respect. After a decade and a half, the results speak louder than any manifesto.

The Code That Defines the Craft

Ask Carl about the "Carl Schultz factor", and he doesn't cite terroir mastery or fermentation techniques. He recites core values: honesty, integrity, humility, tenacity, work ethic, and resilience.

"I live by a code," he says simply. It's the code of someone who didn't inherit a wine farm or succeed a generation. Everything was earned through hard work, guided by principles that don't waver when circumstances shift.

Resilience is the newest addition, hard-won through upheaval. "It's hard to endure calamitous events and maintain one's dignity and come out a better person."

He loves teaching—he recently hosted a Shiraz tasting in Cape Town, not featuring his wines, just imparting knowledge. He's started consulting for a Stellenbosch property. Both Carl’s parents were teachers; sharing expertise feels like an inheritance of a different kind.

"If people look at the name in future or if they taste the wines, it should be about quality. Quality, hard work, honesty, integrity. That's what I'd be remembered for, hopefully."

The Legacy Bottled in Time

The only wine Carl genuinely mourns is Pontac, an ancient Bergerac variety brought to South Africa in the 1920s or 30s, possibly earlier by French Huguenots. He inherited a virused 1960s planting, fought for 12 years to secure clean material, planted a mother block, and made one or two vintages before leaving Hartenberg. That rebirth will happen without him.

But legacy isn't just what you finish. It's what you set in motion. Carl’s son Mark is learning the craft, meeting customers, and understanding that "the most valuable gift you can give a customer is your time." Perhaps one day, Solo Wines will carry a second name. For now, Carl's building something worth inheriting: wines that don't disappoint, that impress, that age to their betterment across decades.

The support has been overwhelming. Importers, family, private clients, and industry colleagues—relationships built over 35 years revealed their depth when tested. Several local distributors have taken Solo Wines on board before the wines were even bottled and before tasting.

"I'd rather sell out than be stuck with stock," Carl says, refusing to compromise brand image through desperate discounting. It's the same philosophy that guided 32 years at Hartenberg, now distilled to its purest expression.

Some calamities hide opportunities. Carl Schultz found his in the moment he stopped painting other people's pictures and started creating his own canvas. That first bottle won't carry decades of estate history, but it will carry something rarer: the unfiltered vision of a winemaker finally answering only to himself, the vineyard, and time.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

This week, I'm sitting down with Rianie Strydom, a Cape Winemakers Guild member who believes the best moment in winemaking isn't winning awards—it's watching someone's face light up when wine suddenly makes sense. After three decades crafting exceptional wines from Burgundy to the Helderberg, Rianie has built her reputation on a radical idea: fine wine should invite people in, not keep them out.

From her family's Stellenbosch vineyards to her role as Head Winemaker at Cavalli Estate, Rianie reveals why South Africa's wine moment is now, how she translates terroir through patient blending, and what passing the torch to the next generation really means.

Here’s where it gets interesting.

The Winemaker Who Sees Joy in Every Glass

Here's what Rianie Strydom has learned after three decades in cellars from Burgundy to the Helderberg: the best moment in winemaking isn't winning another award or nailing a perfect blend. It's watching someone's face light up when they suddenly understand why a glass shape matters, or how tannins work, or what oak does to wine.

"The smile on faces is priceless," she tells me. "In our hearts, all winemakers want to see that joy."

This philosophy—that wine should invite people in rather than keep them out—runs like a golden thread through everything the Cape Winemakers Guild member has built. From her family's Stellenbosch vineyards to her recent appointment as Head Winemaker at Cavalli Estate, Rianie has spent her career dismantling the velvet ropes that too often surround fine wine.

When Opportunity Knocked, Fear Didn't Answer

The Strydom family story began with a plot of land across the road from Morgenhof Estate, where Rianie and her husband Louis were living while she worked as a winemaker. They managed the neighbouring property in their spare time, and when the ageing owner decided to sell a portion perfect for grape growing, something clicked.

"Being two young winemakers—growing up on a farm and Louis always dreaming of owning land—this triggered the idea to one day make our own wine," Rianie recalls. "At that moment, I believe we were more excited about the opportunity than thinking of any consequences."

That leap from employed winemaker to land-owning entrepreneur captures something essential about building authenticity in wine. The best stories aren't manufactured for marketing departments; they're born from genuine passion colliding with possibility. Louis now handles viticulture while Rianie transforms his work into wines that capture their origin's personality—a perfect collaboration anchored in shared vision and complementary skills.

Burgundy Taught Her What Stellenbosch Couldn't

Early in her career, Rianie worked the 1996 vintage in Burgundy, followed by time in Saint-Émilion. Three decades later, she still draws on what those French cellars revealed.

"For a young winemaker, it's important to experience as many vintages as possible and in as many places as possible," she explains. "It shapes a thought process and exposes you to different techniques."

But the real education went beyond winemaking mechanics. In those small Burgundian villages, she discovered something that South Africa is only now fully embracing: how wine can be woven into daily life as naturally as family itself.

"Thirty years ago, the way they made wines seemed so natural, with perfect ripeness on reds and whites and balanced acidities," she remembers. "In the small villages of Burgundy, everybody associates with wine as if it were one of their best family friends. The lifestyle with wine is something you should not underestimate."

That understanding of wine as a companion rather than a trophy has shaped her approachable philosophy. Quality and accessibility aren't opposing forces—they're partners in creating experiences that resonate.

The Guild That Lifts Rather Than Weighs

Both Rianie and Louis are members of the Cape Winemakers Guild, an honour that places them among South Africa's winemaking elite. But ask her about the pressure of that distinction, and she flips the narrative entirely.

"Yes, there are high expectations on the wines we put on auction, but I do not feel it is a weight we are carrying," she says firmly. "It's more of an opportunity to push the boundaries for quality as well as experiment at a high level."

The Guild's international tastings have become her benchmark for understanding just how far South African wine has travelled. Tasting alongside iconic global wines creates knowledge that directly informs her craft—and confirms what she's long believed about the Cape's potential.

The mentorship flows both ways. "It is a great privilege through the Protégé projects to meet and get to know a new generation of winemakers," she adds. "As members, we get more from it than what we probably can ever put in."

"It is emotionally uplifting to realise we as a country are really at a very good place understanding our abilities, soils, climate and varietal offerings," she notes. The freedom to experiment without Europe's rigid varietal legislation has unleashed creativity across South African cellars, allowing winemakers to match grapes to terroir with scientific precision and artistic flair.

South Africa's Moment Is Now

When Rianie declares there's no better time to be part of the South African wine scene, she's not indulging in patriotic hyperbole. She's reading signals that the international market hasn't fully processed yet.

"We have a bunch of very talented winemakers who have gone out in the world and made their mark there as well as in South Africa," she explains. "Through this, they've played an integral role in pulling the image of South African wine to another level."

But the transformation runs deeper than individual reputations. The industry has fundamentally shifted its approach to viticulture, transitioning from a mass production mindset to a strategic varietal placement based on soil, climate, and microclimate. Old vineyards are being revived with newfound respect for their genetic heritage and site expression.

The result? South African wines are commanding higher prices while still delivering extraordinary value to increasingly knowledgeable consumers. These aren't bargain hunters; they're educated drinkers ready to trade up for quality and authenticity.

"We create curiosity through the freedom we have in the styles we can produce," Rianie says. That positioning—quality meets innovation meets value—is textbook perfect for the evolving global wine market.

The Blender's Patient Art

Ask Rianie about her distinctive approach to winemaking, and she reveals a meticulous process that would make many producers anxious. During harvest, she creates as many individual batches as possible, building a library of flavour components. Then comes the real work.

"Once it gets to creating the final product, I take a lot of time blending in the lab," she explains. Blends stand for up to seven days before final decisions are made. I try to create an environment to see how long the wine will age, which gives a good indication of bottle ageing."

This patience extends to oak integration. Her philosophy is simple but increasingly rare: if the vintage can't handle new oak without being dominated by it, save those barrels for next year. "Always respect the fruit you are working with," she says.

It's this commitment to quality grapes and precise winemaking techniques—letting the vineyard speak through thoughtful intervention rather than heavy-handed manipulation—that anchors everything else.

Passing Fire to the Next Generation

Jean-Louis, the eldest of the Strydom children, has joined the family business after completing vintages in Portugal, Argentina, Sonoma and Marlborough. For Rianie, it represents both continuity and welcome evolution.

"He definitely has a good sense of what he wants to achieve and where he sees the style needs to go, which is very much in sync with the new generation of wine drinkers," she says. "We listen and we guide, I would say, and give advice with a little fixing here and there."

His arrival freed Rianie to accept the Head Winemaker position at Cavalli Estate—not a distraction from family wines but an expansion of what she loves most.

"To be honest, I am just so happy that I can have the opportunity to make more wine," she admits. "I love it so much."

The Conversation Starts in the Vineyard

When Rianie talks about capturing terroir, she's not engaging in mystical wine-speak. Her process is grounded, tactile and observant.

"The idea of translating the soil literally starts in the vineyard, sampling the blocks," she explains. "I prefer sampling the vineyards myself before harvest. Just looking at the growth of the vines and surface of the soils, walking along the rows, and of course tasting the grapes starts shaping the final wine in my head."

By the time fruit arrives at the cellar, she already knows what each batch needs to express its site. It's the kind of intimate vineyard knowledge that only comes from showing up, paying attention and listening to what the land reveals.

Standing in Stellenbosch with global ambitions, Rianie Strydom embodies perfect positioning: exceptional fruit handled with precision, authentic experiences that invite rather than intimidate, compelling stories earned through decades of craft, and collaborative relationships spanning generations and continents.

Most importantly, she never loses sight of why any of this matters—those moments when understanding dawns and faces light up, when wine stops being intimidating and starts being joy.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

Why Your Best Wine Isn't Selling—And How to Fix It in 90 Days

Here's an uncomfortable truth I've witnessed across 25 years in the wine industry: the wineries making the best wine aren't always the ones making the best money.

Drive through Stellenbosch on any weekend and you'll see it playing out in real time. Two neighbouring estates, same terroir, same Mediterranean sun, comparable winemaking chops. One commands R600 a bottle and has customers queuing at the cellar door. The other struggles to shift cases at R250.

The difference is never in the bottle. It's always in the positioning.

Why Your Best Wine Isn't Selling—And How to Fix It in 90 Days

Here's an uncomfortable truth I've witnessed across 25 years in the wine industry: the wineries making the best wine aren't always the ones making the best money.

Drive through Stellenbosch on any weekend and you'll see it playing out in real time. Two neighbouring estates, same terroir, same Mediterranean sun, comparable winemaking chops. One commands R600 a bottle and has customers queuing at the cellar door. The other struggles to shift cases at R250.

The difference is never in the bottle. It's always in the positioning.

The Positioning Problem Nobody Talks About

Through 116 issues of Winemakers On Fire, I've connected with winemakers, designers, and creatives worldwide who are rewriting the rules. What I've learned is this: brilliant winemaking gets you to the starting line. Strategic positioning wins the race.

Yet our industry treats positioning as a marketing afterthought rather than a business strategy. We've perfected winemaking techniques while neglecting customer connection. We obsess over terroir expression while ignoring market positioning.

The result? Mediocre wines are commanding premium prices while superior bottles gather dust on retail shelves.

What I've Learned as a Wine Futurist

My journey has taught me something counterintuitive: the path to future success isn't found in perfect predictions but in perfect positioning.

While consulting and observing wine businesses globally, I've identified four pillars that remain steadfast despite our industry's relentless evolution:

• Quality: High-quality grapes and winemaking techniques

• Experiences: Unique and authentic wine experiences

• Story: Compelling storytelling and brand identity

• Relationships: Strategic relationships and collaboration

When these align with your unique strengths, something remarkable happens. Customers stop comparing you to competitors because you occupy a distinct space in their minds. Price objections fade. Word-of-mouth amplifies. Competition becomes irrelevant because you own your category.

This realisation led me to create Master Positioning: The Perfect Positioning Playbook for Leaders—a practical framework that transforms how customers discover, experience, and advocate for your wines.

What's Inside the Playbook

This isn't marketing theory dressed up as strategy. It's a 50-page distillation of positioning successes and failures I've observed across the industry, structured into three practical parts:

Part One: The Positioning Reality Check reveals the unseen competitors and market realities shaping your position today. Because you can't fix what you can't see.

Part Two: The Four-Pillar Foundation builds an unshakeable premium brand by leveraging the four proven pillars that command loyalty and premium pricing. You'll discover why quality alone never guarantees success, how authentic experiences create premium pricing power, why storytelling trumps advertising, and how strategic relationships multiply revenue potential.

Part Three: Your Strategic Action Plan activates a focused 90-day roadmap that transforms clarity into unstoppable market advantage. No scattered effort. No positioning confusion. Just focused energy that creates market dominance.

I've also included two bonuses that tackle the psychology behind wine pricing—including why R600 bottles outsell R250 bottles of objectively superior wine—plus a Perfect Positioning Checklist to tighten your positioning and boost revenue immediately.

The Cape Town Perspective That Changes Everything

Living and working in Cape Town provides a unique insight into positioning challenges. South African wine faces unprecedented pressures: oversupply, export complexities, evolving consumer preferences, and intensified global competition.

These conditions make positioning more critical, not less important.

The wineries weathering current industry storms share one characteristic: clear positioning that transcends market volatility. They've built loyal customer relationships based on unique value that competitors can't easily replicate.

The global wine market rewards clarity, authenticity, and bold strategic thinking. South African wineries that master these positioning principles compete successfully not despite their origin, but because of it.

Why This Matters Now

In six months, your winery will be in one of two places: thriving with a clear competitive advantage or still facing the same positioning challenges you face today.

The difference won't be decided by wine quality, market trends, or external conditions. It will be determined by the positioning decisions you make over the next 90 days.

This playbook won't promise an overnight transformation. Effective positioning requires consistent implementation over months, not weeks. But the framework provides immediate clarity about where to focus energy for maximum competitive advantage.

Your Invitation

I'm releasing Master Positioning this week exclusively through Winemakers On Fire. To celebrate the launch, I'm giving away 50 free copies to readers who want to transform their positioning from confused to confident.

If you're ready to stop competing on price and start owning your category, email me with "Master Positioning" in the subject line.

The first 50 responses receive a complimentary copy. No strings. No upsells. Just a practical strategy that works.

Because when positioning works, selling becomes serving, marketing becomes storytelling, and customers become advocates.

Your competitive advantage is waiting in the alignment between who you are and what your market needs.

This playbook shows you how to find that intersection—and defend it.

The Wine Futurist
Cape Town, South Africa

Email: mike@winewordsmith.com

Subject line: Master Positioning

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Perfect positioning beats perfect predictions every time. This week, we explore two extraordinary wine labels that prove authenticity trumps artifice in today's market. From The Killers' drummer finding his rhythm in biodynamic farming cycles to a Bulgarian winemaker whose personal signature becomes a seal of quality, these stories reveal how genuine connections create an unshakeable market position.

One label invites conversation through visual storytelling, the other whispers luxury through premium materials. Both demonstrate positioning in action, showing how today's most successful wines position themselves not by chasing trends, but by staying authentically true to their makers' vision.

Here’s where it gets interesting.

When Wine Labels Become Conversation Starters: The Art of Perfect Positioning

The most successful wineries aren't predicting the future—they're positioning themselves within it. Two extraordinary wine labels recently crossed my desk, each telling a story that cuts through market noise with surgical precision. One features a rock star drummer who found his rhythm in biodynamic farming cycles. The other transforms premium materials into silent ambassadors of quality. Both demonstrate something profound about modern wine positioning: authenticity isn't just preferred, it's essential for survival.

The Unlikely Marriage of Beats and Biodynamics

When Ronnie Vannucci Jr., drummer for The Killers, met the Paxton Wines team, something clicked that had nothing to do with celebrity endorsements or marketing stunts. Their collaboration, Baterista (Spanish for 'drummer'), emerged from a genuine fascination with rhythm—not just in music, but in the natural cycles that govern biodynamic farming.

This partnership challenges everything we think we know about wine collaborations. Instead of slapping a famous name on a bottle, Paxton and Vannucci discovered shared philosophy in unexpected places. The constructed rhythm of drumming mirrors the natural cycles of organic farming. Both require patience, timing, and respect for natural processes that can't be rushed or manufactured.

The resulting wine—an extremely small-batch Shiraz from 50-year-old vines in McLaren Vale—embodies this philosophy. Wild fermented and selected from just a few standout barrels, it represents the intersection of musical and viticultural craftsmanship.

Design as Storytelling: When Less Becomes More

Byerlee Design's approach to the Baterista label reveals a sophisticated understanding of modern wine positioning. The typographic design builds around a central drum and keyhole, creating visual metaphors that reward closer inspection. Circular rings of text ripple outward like soundwaves, growth rings, and the pulse of the vineyard itself.

But here's where the design transcends mere aesthetics—it invites interaction. The concept asks drinkers to slow down, explore the story, and connect with meaning beyond the liquid. This transforms consumption into conversation, turning a premium Shiraz into both experience and dialogue starter.

The rear label's single key symbol, positioned between David Paxton's and Ronnie's signatures, reinforces their central philosophy: "rhythm is energy, and energy is the key." It's positioning that doesn't just differentiate—it educates and engages.

The Quiet Confidence of Material Mastery

While Baterista makes its statement through story, Jordan Jelev's Zitara Crémant label demonstrates how materials can speak louder than graphics. This approach to positioning relies on what I call "whispered luxury"—sophistication that reveals itself gradually rather than shouting for attention.

The horizontally oriented oval label, printed on Jade Raster paper with its fine microtexture and gentle opalescent effect, creates immediate tactile appeal. The subtle white decorative frame, stamped with deep debossing, only reveals its full character when light catches it—a metaphor for the wine itself.

Most intriguing is the separate seal label positioned high on the bottle's shoulder. Using metallic foil and resin technology to mimic traditional wax seals, it carries Peter Iliev's personal signature as the winemaker behind Four Friends. This isn't branding—it's accountability made visible.

Environmental Responsibility as Competitive Advantage

Both labels demonstrate how sustainability becomes a positioning strength rather than a marketing afterthought. Zitara intentionally eliminates the capsule, reducing environmental impact while achieving visual simplicity. This choice reflects a deeper understanding: today's consumers, particularly Generation Z and Millennials, increasingly value environmental consciousness.

The decision shows how constraints breed creativity. By removing elements, Jelev focused attention on what remained—premium materials and masterful finishing techniques that communicate quality through touch and sight rather than excess.

Positioning in Action

These labels embody perfect positioning because they demonstrate how all elements work in harmony. Baterista showcases exceptional fruit from 50-year-old biodynamic vines while creating an authentic experience that connects music and winemaking. The storytelling transcends typical wine marketing to explore universal themes of rhythm and timing, all of which emerge from genuine collaboration between the artist and winemaker.

Zitara achieves similar integration through different means. The premium materials reflect a commitment to quality fruit and meticulous winemaking. The tactile label experience creates authenticity through craftsmanship. Every design choice tells the story of heritage meeting innovation, while Peter Iliev's personal signature represents a direct relationship between maker and consumer.

Beyond Celebrity: Authenticity as Differentiator

What makes Baterista remarkable isn't Vannucci's fame—it's the authentic connection between musical and viticultural rhythm. This positions the wine beyond typical celebrity collaborations into something more meaningful: shared artistic vision made tangible.

In South Africa's wine industry, where authenticity battles against historical perceptions, this approach offers valuable lessons. Our most successful producers aren't trying to be French or Australian—they're exploring what it means to be authentically South African while speaking to global audiences.

The Signature Move: Personal Accountability

Zitara's seal label, carrying Peter Iliev's signature, represents something profound about modern wine positioning. In an era of corporate consolidation and anonymous production, personal accountability becomes a competitive advantage. The signature says: "I made this and I stand behind it."

This approach resonates particularly in markets where trust must be earned. South African wines have fought perception battles for decades. Personal signatures, whether literal or metaphorical, create direct connections that transcend geographic or historical prejudices.

The Future of Wine Positioning

Both labels point toward wine's positioning for the future: authenticity over artifice, experience over product, relationship over transaction. They succeed because they position themselves not as wines trying to be something else, but as unique expressions of their makers' vision.

This matters because wine consumers increasingly seek meaning alongside quality. They want stories worth telling, experiences worth sharing, relationships worth maintaining. Both Baterista and Zitara deliver these intangibles alongside exceptional liquid quality.

Lessons for the Cellar Door

For winemakers seeking inspiration for their positioning, these labels offer clear guidance. First, find authentic connections—forced partnerships reveal themselves quickly. Second, let materials and design serve the story rather than dominate it. Third, make sustainability an advantage rather than an afterthought. Fourth, embrace personal accountability as differentiation.

Most importantly, perfect positioning isn't about predicting the future—it's about creating space within it for authentic expression to flourish. Both Baterista and Zitara achieve this by staying true to their makers' vision while speaking universal languages of quality, craftsmanship, and genuine human connection.

In a world overflowing with wine choices, these labels remind us that the most powerful positioning comes not from trying to be everything to everyone, but from being authentically something to someone. That's the rhythm worth following.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

When your wines sell faster than Rolling Stone tickets and customers willingly wait five years to join your community, you've transcended traditional wine marketing. Eben Sadie didn't chase volume or broad appeal—he deliberately limited production to 90,000 bottles annually while building thirteen distinct wine philosophies. His Palladius became South Africa's first unorthodox white blend, proving that authenticity without compromise creates lasting value.

From co-pioneering the Swartland Revolution with four fellow trailblazers (Adi Badenhorst, Chris and Andrea Mullineux, and Callie Louw) to developing allocation systems that prioritise loyalty over profit, Sadie's journey reveals how falling in love with the work—not the idea—builds brands that define entire regions.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

When your wines sell faster than Rolling Stone tickets and customers willingly wait five years to join your community, you've transcended traditional wine marketing. Eben Sadie didn't chase volume or broad appeal—he deliberately limited production to 90,000 bottles annually while building thirteen distinct wine philosophies. His Palladius became South Africa's first unorthodox white blend, proving that authenticity without compromise creates lasting value.

From co-pioneering the Swartland Revolution with four fellow trailblazers (Adi Badenhorst, Chris and Andrea Mullineux, and Callie Louw) to developing allocation systems that prioritise loyalty over profit, Sadie's journey reveals how falling in love with the work—not the idea—builds brands that define entire regions.

Here’s where it gets interesting.

The Uncompromising Vision: How Eben Sadie Redefined Premium Wines

"When Charles Beck told me I'm unemployable, that's a good departure because... no real decision to be made there." Eben Sadie laughs as he recounts the pivotal moment that launched one of South Africa's most revolutionary wine projects. But he's quick to add context: "I am also grateful for the opportunity Charles Back afforded me back in 1997 when he appointed me. He handed me a perfect ball and trusted me with much." What began as divergent visions became the genesis of Sadie Family Wines—a venture that would redefine what South African wine could achieve and how it should be sold.

Twenty-five years later, Sadie's wines sell faster than Rolling Stone tickets, with allocation waiting lists stretching five years. But this isn't another story about exclusivity driving demand. It's about what happens when you refuse to compromise on a single detail, from vineyard to customer relationship.

Excellence Isn't Negotiable—It's the Only Business Model

Sadie's original vision was deceptively simple: produce one wine of uncompromised excellence. "I just wanted to produce something truly magnificent," he explains, "something that not a single corner was cut." That singular focus has expanded to thirteen wines, each defending what he calls "13 ideologies, 13 concepts, 13 philosophies."

This approach contradicts conventional wine business wisdom. Most producers chase volume and broad appeal. Sadie deliberately limits production to 90,000 bottles annually—already 30,000 more than he originally intended. "I'm trying to go down to 80 again," he admits. "We want to get smaller and more intense."

The results speak volumes. His Palladius became South Africa's first unorthodox white blend, combining Chenin Blanc, Grenache Blanc, Marsanne, and Chardonnay when the country's whites were limited to Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon blends. Today, both Palladius and Columella represent the pinnacle of South African winemaking—wines that couldn't be made anywhere else in the world.

Twenty vintages of Columella: South Africa's most coveted red blend.

When Customers Fight for Your Product, You're Building Wrong

The legendary allocation system emerged from necessity, not strategy. "We had a system where on a given day we would release our wines, and they sold like Rolling Stone tickets," Sadie recalls. "But then we realised it's a very harsh system, because if you have a client that's been a client for eight, ten years, why must he get up at an ungodly hour and hope his email arrives in the first five minutes?"

The solution reveals Sadie's deeper philosophy about relationships. Their advanced allocation system secures existing clients' quantities, allowing decreases but no increases year-over-year. It's civilised commerce that prioritises loyalty over profit maximisation.

"Our relationship goes beyond Instagram nonsense," he emphasises. "You get one letter a year with everything that's happened on the property. One letter. That's it." This anti-marketing approach to marketing has created something unprecedented: customers who wait five years not just for wine, but for the privilege of joining a community built around shared values.

The Swartland Revolution Proves Collaboration Beats Competition

The Swartland Revolution wasn't conceived as a marketing event—it was Sadie and his peers putting their money where their philosophy was. "These events were built on generosity, the urge to share an incredible platform of international minds and people all bound by their love for wine and have massive fun in the process," he reflects. Sadie emphasises the privilege of working closely with fellow Revolution partners to create a world-class offering that ultimately benefited the entire Swartland region.

"It was about doing something incredible, at whatever cost," he explains. The Revolution brought together South Africa's most innovative winemakers to share exceptional wines with creators flown in from around the world—participants could ask questions directly to legendary producers while experiencing wines and education that would cost exponentially more individually.

This collaborative spirit extended beyond events. The Swartland Revolution created a platform that elevated an entire region, proving that exceptional producers working together could shift global perceptions of South African wine. "We wanted to complement the South African horizon," Sadie explains. "We wanted to share with people the great wines of the world."

The team behind South Africa's most exclusive allocation system. Left to right: Eben Sadie, Morne Steyn, Beverley Van Schalkwyk, Niko Sadie, Annalette Williams, Markus Sadie, Jessica Neal Sadie.

 Authenticity Without Compromise Creates Lasting Value

Behind Sadie's success lies an unshakeable commitment to authenticity that never sacrifices quality. "We are more interested in truth than perceived perfection," he states. "We'll bottle a lesser wine if it's truthful of the site, and we won't manipulate it to a perceived consumer expectation."

This philosophy extends beyond winemaking. When speculators buy and resell Sadie wines, he's implementing RFID technology to track bottles and revoke memberships of flippers. "If we find wines outside the realms of traditional trade, we're going to uplift your membership. You're not part of my tribe."

His authenticity includes brutal honesty about the wine industry itself. "The wine industry gives you a great return on ego," he observes. "But people who make a difference, that's not part of their demeanour or makeup. You have to work hard, stay humble, because nature is humbling."

Building Beyond One Generation Requires Perfect Systems

As Sadie prepares for succession, with his sons Marcus and Xander (currently happily employed at Brookdale Wines) eventually joining the business, he's focused on creating systems that transcend individual talent. "Building a great wine is not the work of one generation," he emphasises. The new cellar represents this thinking—everything custom-designed and built for the space, from chairs to fermentation vessels.

However, the real succession planning occurs in the vineyards and among people. "Every human that touches a plant, I believe there's a deep spiritual connection between the human and wine," Sadie explains. Their HR programs extend to the education of farm workers' children. "If your farm worker's children are in bad schools and yours are in fantastic schools, where are you going? You're delaminated."

This systematic approach to human development reflects Sadie's broader philosophy: "For me, the past 35 years have been the study of a system. I have a bigger urge to understand what I'm doing than to do it."

The Sadie Family lineup: uncompromising wines from Swartland's revolutionary vineyards.

The African Wine Revolution Starts with Cutting European Umbilical Cords

Looking forward, Sadie sees South Africa's greatest opportunity in embracing its African identity. "Are we going to copy French wines till the day we die? Or are we happy to start making African wines?" he challenges. "It's about cutting the umbilical cord with France and Europe and our European ancestry."

This isn't nationalism—it's practical wisdom about differentiation in a crowded global market. "There's a lot of land that's not been planted. Some dynamics have not been checked. I have a hundred projects in my head," he reveals. But success requires falling "in love with the work of things, not the idea of things."

For young winemakers dreaming of premium brands, his advice is uncompromising: "First of all, they shouldn't make a brand. They should make a wine." The foundation must be operating at an excellent level worldwide. "You can't become the best cyclist in the world if you don't cycle with the best."

Sadie's journey from "unemployable" to irreplaceable proves that in wine, as in life, the longest path between two points—uncompromising excellence—often becomes the straightest line to lasting success. His allocation system isn't just about scarcity; it's about building relationships with people who understand that some things are worth waiting for.

As he sits on his stoep (Afrikaans for veranda) each Friday evening, opening a good bottle, Sadie knows one thing with certainty: "Everything that was done this week, we did things right." After 25 years of that philosophy, the world is finally catching up.

The new Sadie Family cellar: custom-built perfection in 2024.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

This week's Winemakers On Fire takes you from the dusty streets of Mamelodi to the chalky slopes of Sussex, following Solly Monyamane's remarkable journey.

What happens when a curious young man who "knew nothing about wine" becomes a pioneer of English still wine? Solly's story reveals why the future belongs to fearlessly adaptive winemakers who carry wisdom across continents.

From his vineyard epiphany with Pinotage experiments to crafting PIWI varieties in England's tight-margin environment, his path illuminates something profound: great wine transcends borders, but terroir remains king.

Prepare to be inspired by sensible fearlessness.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

This week's Winemakers On Fire takes you from the dusty streets of Mamelodi to the chalky slopes of Sussex, following Solly Monyamane's remarkable journey.

What happens when a curious young man who "knew nothing about wine" becomes a pioneer of English still wine? Solly's story reveals why the future belongs to fearlessly adaptive winemakers who carry wisdom across continents.

From his vineyard epiphany with Pinotage experiments to crafting PIWI varieties in England's tight-margin environment, his path illuminates something profound: great wine transcends borders, but terroir remains king.

Prepare to be inspired by sensible fearlessness.

From Mamelodi to Sussex: Solly Monyamane's Global Winemaking Revolution

Solly Monyamane, winemaker at Artelium.

The revelation began among Pinotage vines at Elsenburg, watching three identical blocks yield drastically different wines. One bunch per shoot, two bunches, no thinning—the same variety telling completely different stories based on a single decision in the vineyard. For Solly Monyamane, this wasn't just an experiment. It was the moment he realised winemaking's true battleground isn't the cellar—it's where the grapes grow.

That insight has carried the young South African from the dusty streets of Mamelodi to the chalky slopes of Sussex, where he's now crafting some of England's most promising cool-climate wines at Artelium. His journey illuminates something profound about modern winemaking: the future belongs not to those who perfect traditions in isolation, but to those who carry wisdom across continents.

When Ignorance Becomes Innovation

Monyamane chose winemaking for the best possible reason: he knew absolutely nothing about it. While his agricultural roots ran deep—his father still farms in Limpopo, sharing knowledge through community outreach—wine remained a mystery that demanded exploration.

"I was accepted into Teaching, Winemaking at Stellenbosch, and Environmental Science," Monyamane recalls. "I chose Winemaking because curiosity launched my career." That intellectual honesty about what he didn't know would become his greatest strength.

His early years at Thelema Mountain Vineyards alongside Rudi Schultz and Duncan Clarke, followed by a stint in Sonoma's cool-climate territory at Three Sticks, built his foundation. The real breakthrough came later, through what he calls "Archer's Last Experiment"—Prof Eben Archer's final research project before his passing, exploring how vineyard yield decisions fundamentally alter wine character.

The Vineyard Epiphany That Changed Everything

That Pinotage experiment didn't just teach Monyamane about grape growing—it rewired his entire approach to winemaking. "It changed my approach completely and asked me to start thinking about where the focus of winemaking needs to be," he explains.

The lesson was profound: the story in your glass begins long before harvest, written by every decision made among the vines. This realisation drove him to leave his comfortable assistant winemaker role at Elsenburg for a farm manager position at Beyerskloof, working with Anri and Beyers Truter.

"I realised I still didn't fully understand what happens in the vineyard and needed to spend more time among the vines to better connect what we grow with what ends up in the bottle." That connection between soil and soul, between terroir and taste, would become his calling card.

Cool-Climate Mastery Meets African Adaptability

When Artelium Wines offered Monyamane the chance to help develop their English still wine portfolio in 2022, he discovered something unexpected: South African winemaking training creates uniquely adaptable professionals. "You need to very quickly identify and adapt to what the vines need, especially young vines, and act accordingly," he explains.

The transition revealed both challenges and advantages. Sussex's chalky soils, prone to iron deficiency, demanded rapid diagnosis and response—skills honed in South Africa's diverse growing conditions. Meanwhile, the limited viticultural scope in England's climate meant most producers followed similar practices, creating an opportunity for innovation.

"My South African viticultural training helped me in that you need to identify things very quickly. A lot of this has to do with how we share knowledge as winemakers and viticulturists in South Africa."

The Great South African Wine Migration

Monyamane isn't alone in his English adventure. A growing diaspora of South African winemakers is reshaping English wine, drawn by opportunity and equipped with hard-won expertise. "South Africans are hardworking people, so it's an easy transition work-wise," he notes. "For people still chasing the perfect bubble or purity of expressions in Chardonnay and Pinot Noirs, England is an exciting prospect."

This collective expertise is pioneering England's still wine revolution. Gary Jordan at MouseHall exemplifies this trend—experienced winemakers applying decades of knowledge to a different climate, creating "really beautiful wines" that push English wine beyond its sparkling comfort zone.

The partnership between Artelium and South Africa's Rickety Bridge enables dual-hemisphere harvests, keeping skills sharp year-round. "It's almost like being an Olympian—you never stop training and learning, but in wine."

*PIWI Varieties: The Future Hidden in Plain Sight

At Artelium, Monyamane's experimental Artefacts line includes a revelation: Cabernet Noir, a disease-resistant variety that produces "really dark, big red wine that often comes as a huge surprise to people during tastings." This isn't novelty winemaking—it's necessity disguised as innovation.

"I do see PIWIs as a huge part of the future of wine," he predicts. "Some PIWIs are already mainstream—Voltis in Champagne—and will become more common quicker than we expect." The varieties he's planted—Pinotin, Divico, Cabernet Noir, Sauvignac, and Sauvignon Gris—offer sustainable solutions without sacrificing quality.

His approach balances innovation with tradition: "Try not to force the wine into a category but fine-tune the grapes' natural characters to a drinkable wine."

Terroir Translation: From African Heat to English Precision

Working two distinct Sussex sites—one chalky, one clay-heavy, both 10 kilometres from the ocean—Monyamane captures place through precision. "Clay gives us depth of flavour and expressiveness. Chalky soils give us freshness, lighter and sometimes angular wines with serious longevity."

His philosophy echoes across continents: "The most important question to ask is: Why does the wine in my glass taste the way it does?" That sense of place "should be as strong as my belief that South Africa will win the Rugby World Cup again in 2027!"

The Margin Game: Where Precision Meets Profit

English winemaking's tight margins demand strategic thinking beyond the cellar. Successful producers diversify beyond sparkling wine, embrace still wine production, and create premium experiences rather than Champagne copies. "Keeping wines true to their terroir instead of making Champagne-like copies is probably the best approach."

The winning formula combines authenticity with accessibility: "Coming in at the right price and tier and being able to keep people at your estate for longer when they come to visit often leads to financial rewards."

Eastern Promise: The Next Wine Frontier

Looking ahead, Monyamane sees opportunity where others see challenge. "I honestly think Eastern Europe is probably the next big and most exciting place globally." Slovakia, Romania, Ukraine (which grows Pinotage), Hungary, Slovenia, Croatia, and North Turkey offer the perfect storm: warm summers, cold winters, affordable wines, and generations of winemaking knowledge.

"They've got what curious wine drinkers are looking for," he predicts, identifying the next wave before it crests.

The Fearless Factor

What defines Monyamane's approach isn't technique—it's temperament. "Not being afraid to take risks and backing myself, had to do it all my life. My approach is to be sensibly fearless and self-confident."

He relies on skill over story, though his journey from Mamelodi to Sussex certainly provides a compelling narrative. "I know I have a unique story and can use it to sell my wine, but I don't rely on it. I rely on my skill and ability to read the vineyard, learn the scientific signs, taste the grapes, and make a pathway to extract the best possible wine of that vintage."

The goal remains constant: never stop learning. In an industry where tradition often trumps innovation, Monyamane represents something vital—a winemaker who honours the past while fearlessly pursuing the future, carrying South African wisdom to new terroirs and proving that great wine transcends borders.

His success at Artelium, producing 80,000 bottles annually split between sparkling and still wines, validates this approach. The 2023 vintage has sold out, replaced by 2024 wines that continue to build England's still wine reputation. It's not just about making good wine—it's about proving that global expertise, local adaptation, and fearless innovation create the future of winemaking.

From those early days of choosing wine because he knew nothing about it, to crafting distinctive English expressions that surprise tasters, Monyamane embodies the evolution of modern winemaking: curious, adaptive, and unafraid to challenge expectations while honouring the fundamental truth that great wine begins in the vineyard.

*What Are PIWI Varieties?

PIWI varieties might sound like wine industry jargon, but they represent a quiet revolution in vineyards worldwide. The name comes from German "PIlzWIderstandsfähig," meaning "fungus-resistant",—and that's exactly what they are.

These aren't genetically modified grapes. Instead, PIWIs are developed through classic crossbreeding methods, combining traditional European wine grapes (Vitis vinifera) with naturally disease-resistant North American varieties. The result? Grapes that can withstand fungal diseases like powdery and downy mildew with minimal chemical intervention.

The numbers tell the story: while conventional varieties might require 10-15 spray treatments per season, some PIWI varieties thrive with just two applications annually. This dramatic reduction in pesticide use benefits soil health and biodiversity, creating more sustainable vineyard ecosystems. German winemaker Jürgen Amthor achieved 95% healthy grapes from his Cabernet Cortis with this reduced spray regime—a testament to the resilience of his vines.

Popular PIWI varieties include white options like Solaris, Muscaris, and Souvignier Gris, plus red varieties such as Cabernet Cortis and Cabernet Carbon. France has embraced Voltis in its national variety catalogue, and while some Champagne producers experiment with PIWIs, traditional Champagne AOC regulations limit their use in official appellation wines.

For winemakers like Solly working in challenging climates, PIWIs offer a compelling solution: they maintain wine quality while dramatically reducing vineyard treatments, making viticulture more sustainable and economically viable. In England's damp climate, where fungal pressure is intense, these varieties represent a game-changing approach to sustainable winemaking—exactly why forward-thinking producers are embracing them as part of wine's future rather than just an alternative to tradition.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

What if everything we've been taught about customer-first business is wrong?

Last week, we explored the timeless craft-first philosophy that's quietly thriving among wine's greatest producers. From Angelo Gaja's bold decision to declassify his legendary Barbaresco to Eben Sadie's transformation of the Swartland, we uncover why putting product integrity before customer demands creates extraordinary value.

Discover the three-tier hierarchy that drives exceptional winemakers, the connection to Kevin Kelly's "1,000 True Fans" theory, and how Cape Town's Aegir Project proves this ancient wisdom works at any scale. Sometimes the market needs time to catch up with true craft.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

What if everything we've been taught about customer-first business is wrong?

This week, we explore the timeless craft-first philosophy that's quietly thriving among wine's greatest producers. From Angelo Gaja's bold decision to declassify his legendary Barbaresco to Eben Sadie's transformation of the Swartland, we uncover why putting product integrity before customer demands creates extraordinary value.

Discover the three-tier hierarchy that drives exceptional winemakers, the connection to Kevin Kelly's "1,000 True Fans" theory, and how Cape Town's Aegir Project proves this ancient wisdom works at any scale. Sometimes the market needs time to catch up with true craft.

Here's where it gets interesting.

The Craft-First Philosophy: Why Great Businesses Put Product Before Profit

Picture courtesy of Ian Schneider on Unsplash.

Picture this: Angelo Gaja, Italy's most revered winemaker, faces a defining moment in 1996. He wants to blend a small percentage of Barbera grapes into his legendary Barbaresco—a decision he believes will create a superior wine. But there's a catch: DOCG regulations forbid this blend, meaning he must choose between following the rules or following his craft.

Most producers would have stayed within the lines. After all, losing that prestigious classification meant sacrificing market position, prestige, and potentially millions in revenue. But Gaja made a choice that defied conventional business wisdom: he voluntarily declassified his Barbaresco, surrendering the DOCG status to preserve his vision of the perfect wine. Today, that same "declassified" Barbaresco sells for more than most classified wines and helped cement his status as one of the world's greatest winemakers.

This moment captures the essence of something quietly revolutionary happening across industries—from the rolling hills of Piedmont to the innovation labs of Silicon Valley. A growing number of exceptional businesses are discovering that the path to extraordinary success doesn't run through customer surveys or market research. Instead, it follows an ancient philosophy that puts craft first, customers second, and profits third.

The Hierarchy That Changes Everything

At its core, the craft-first philosophy operates on a deceptively simple three-tier priority system. Based on both ancient philosophy and modern practice, there's a general tiered priority system among craft-first producers:

Tier 1: The Product - Integrity, quality, and authenticity are non-negotiable. Compromises are fiercely resisted, and every decision filters through this lens first.

Tier 2: The End User - The goal is to create genuine emotional resonance with the consumer. Products should spark love, not just transactions—connecting with the ultimate person who will experience and benefit from the craft.

Tier 3: Story and Community - Modern craft builds meaning by nurturing culture, community, and the narrative around the product. This storytelling becomes critical for sustaining demand and advocacy.

This hierarchy appears counterintuitive in our customer-centric business culture, yet it consistently produces remarkable results. Why? Because when you protect the integrity of your craft above all else, you create something worth protecting—and worth paying premium prices for.

The Winemaker Who Rewrote the Rules

Here in South Africa's Swartland, Eben Sadie embodies this philosophy with quiet intensity. When he started making wine in the early 2000s, the market demanded bold, oaked, high-alcohol wines that would impress international critics. Sadie chose a different path entirely.

He sought out forgotten vineyards planted decades ago, some over a century old, and began crafting wines that whispered rather than shouted. His Palladius white blend and Columella red blend showcase the subtle complexity of old vines and traditional techniques. Critics initially didn't know what to make of these restrained, terroir-driven wines. Today, they're among South Africa's most sought-after bottles, and Sadie's approach has inspired an entire generation of local winemakers to rediscover their voice.

The transformation is remarkable: what was once considered a backwater wine region now attracts international attention, with wine lovers making pilgrimages to taste what Sadie and his followers have created.

Picture courtesy of The Sadie Family Wines.

Beyond the Vineyard: Craft-First Across Industries

Ferrari's approach mirrors this philosophy in the automotive world. Enzo Ferrari famously said he built cars to fund his racing passion, not the other way around. Every Ferrari emerges from an obsession with engineering perfection and emotional resonance—each model a rolling sculpture that must inspire awe before it considers practicality. The result? A brand so powerful that people buy Ferrari merchandise who will never own a Ferrari, and waiting lists that stretch years into the future.

Closer to home, Noordhoek's Aegir Project Brewery exemplifies how craft-first thinking can thrive at any scale. Founder Rory Lancellas still hand-mashes every beer using a wooden paddle crafted by his father. This isn't quaint tradition for its own sake—it's quality control taken to an almost obsessive level. When local tastes favoured lighter lagers, Aegir persisted with hop-forward IPAs and experimental barrel-aged brews. Their Giant IPA eventually became their bestseller, proving that sometimes the market needs time to catch up.

Picture courtesy of Aegir Project Independent Brewery.

The Science Behind the Philosophy

This approach aligns perfectly with Kevin Kelly's revolutionary "1,000 True Fans" manifesto. Kelly argues that creators need only 1,000 devoted fans—each willing to spend $100 annually on their work—to sustain a thriving business. The mathematics is compelling, but the real magic lies in the relationship dynamics.

Craft-first businesses naturally cultivate these deep relationships. When Gaja makes a wine, he's not trying to please everyone—he's creating something exceptional for people who understand and value exceptional things. When Sadie crafts a vintage, he's speaking to fellow lovers of terroir and tradition. These aren't transactions; they're conversations between craftspeople and connoisseurs.

The beauty of this model is its resilience. Mass-market businesses live and die by fickle consumer trends and price competition. Craft-first businesses build moats of loyalty and expertise that competitors struggle to cross. Their customers become advocates, their stories become legends, and their products become cultural touchstones.

The Courage to Say No

Perhaps the most challenging aspect of craft-first thinking is learning what to refuse. Every master in this space has stories of lucrative opportunities they declined because they compromised their standards.

Steve Jobs was legendary for this. Apple regularly turned down profitable product extensions and market opportunities that didn't align with its vision of elegant simplicity. He understood that every "yes" to mediocrity was a betrayal of the craft that made Apple special in the first place.

This selectivity creates scarcity, and scarcity creates value. When everything you produce meets the highest standards, customers learn to trust your judgment implicitly. They stop comparison shopping and start collecting.

Picture courtesy of Konsepta Studio on Unsplash.

Building Your Craft-First Foundation

Transitioning to a craft-first philosophy requires more than just good intentions. It demands financial stability to weather short-term resistance, unshakeable confidence in your expertise, and the communication skills to help customers understand why your approach serves their interests better than giving them exactly what they think they want.

The most successful practitioners also cultivate what you might call "productive stubbornness"—the ability to hold firm on principles while remaining flexible on execution. Gaja never compromised on quality, but he pioneered new techniques. Sadie never abandoned terroir, but he embraced innovative winemaking approaches.

The Future Belongs to the Craftspeople

In an age of mass production and algorithmic recommendations, authenticity has become the ultimate luxury. Consumers increasingly crave products with soul, stories, and substance. They want to support creators who stand for something beyond quarterly earnings.

The craft-first philosophy isn't just a business strategy—it's a statement about what kind of world we want to live in. It says that some things matter more than immediate gratification, that excellence is worth pursuing for its own sake, and that the relationship between maker and user can be built on mutual respect rather than manipulation.

When you put your craft first, you don't just build a business—you become part of a tradition that stretches back to the earliest human artisans who understood that how you make something is inseparable from what you make. In a world drowning in options, that kind of clarity and purpose doesn't just stand out—it endures.

The question isn't whether you can afford to embrace the craft-first philosophy. In an increasingly crowded and commoditised marketplace, the real question is whether you can afford not to.

Picture courtesy of Mauro Lima on Unsplash.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

A young man from Paarl dreamed of becoming an accountant. Today, Mario Damon crafts some of the Swartland's most compelling wines, proving that the best career pivots happen when we least expect them.

His journey from holiday cellar worker to Dalkeith Wines' head winemaker isn't just another success story—it's a masterclass in how authentic relationships, minimal intervention, and deep terroir understanding transform overlooked vineyard sites into world-class expressions.

From Burgundian revelations to neutral oak innovations, Mario's story reveals why South African winemaking's future belongs to those who learn to listen rather than dictate.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

A young man from Paarl dreamed of becoming an accountant. Today, Mario Damon crafts some of the Swartland's most compelling wines, proving that the best career pivots happen when we least expect them.

His journey from holiday cellar worker to Dalkeith Wines' head winemaker isn't just another success story—it's a masterclass in how authentic relationships, minimal intervention, and deep terroir understanding transform overlooked vineyard sites into world-class expressions.

From Burgundian revelations to neutral oak innovations, Mario's story reveals why South African winemaking's future belongs to those who learn to listen rather than dictate.

Here's where it gets interesting.

The Winemaker Who Learned to Listen: Mario Damon's Journey from Holiday Worker to Swartland Storyteller

Mario Damon with Graham Weerts.

A young man from Paarl once dreamed of becoming an accountant. Today, Mario Damon is crafting some of the most compelling wines emerging from the Swartland, proving that the best career pivots often happen when we least expect them. His story with Dalkeith Wines isn't just another winemaker's tale—it's a masterclass in how authentic relationships, minimal intervention, and deep vineyard understanding can transform overlooked terroir into world-class expressions.

When Burgundy Rewrote the Playbook

Mario's transformation from holiday cellar hand to head winemaker began with a revelation that would elevate South African winemaking. Through the SKOP (Senior Kelder Opleidings Program) exchange to Burgundy in the early 2000s, he discovered something revolutionary: less could indeed be more.

"Minimal interference is what I learned in France—protecting the quality of the grapes," Mario reflects. This wasn't the corporate winemaking approach he'd known at DGB, where extraction was maximised and volume prioritised. In those Burgundian cellars, he witnessed winemakers stepping back, letting terroir speak, allowing vineyards to tell their own stories.

This philosophy now anchors every decision at Dalkeith. The Swartland's granite soils, decomposed to beach-sand fineness at Kalmoesfontein, the coffee-ground koffieklip at Jakkalsfontein, the unique shale ridge at Koplandsteen—each site demands its conversation, not a winemaker's heavy-handed interpretation.

The Vessel Whisperer

Mario's approach to barrel management reads like a sommelier's meditation on texture and time. Each vessel choice serves a specific purpose in capturing what he calls "the essence of what can be."

Ceramic vessels grasp freshness and acidity, delivering that coveted linearity wine judges seek. Amphora brings fullness and richness, capturing what Mario describes as "the boldness of the grapes." But it's his commitment to exclusively neutral wood that reveals the deepest philosophy.

"Originally we used a little bit of new oak, but for some reason, the old vine parcels from the Swartland didn't want it," he explains. "The colour would deviate too soon after release." This discovery led to a complete pivot in 2022—one that transformed Dalkeith's wines from good to extraordinary.

The maintenance regime behind this approach would make most winemakers wince. After each blending, every barrel gets steamed—a costly exercise that most producers avoid. Yet Mario's barrels from 2019 remain in pristine condition, something he calls "unheard of" in the industry.

Old Vines, Young Lessons

Working with vineyards spanning six decades teaches patience and humility in equal measure. At Kalmoesfontein, some vines date to the 1960s, their roots penetrating granite decomposed to sand-like consistency. These ancient survivors deliver complexity that time alone creates, but they're also dying.

"Nothing except time can recreate the quality some old vines give us," Mario acknowledges, watching irreplaceable genetic material disappear vine by vine. The challenge becomes philosophical: how do you honour what's disappearing while nurturing what's emerging?

At Jakkalsfontein, younger plantings offer different rewards. "Young vines are more fruity and elegant—you won't be able to make a big and bold wine. But as vineyards get older, they get smarter and wiser, like people." This balance between youthful vibrancy and mature wisdom shapes Dalkeith's portfolio, creating wines that speak to both immediate pleasure and long-term evolution.

The Mentor Who Changed Everything

Behind every exceptional winemaker stands someone who believed first. For Mario, that person was Graham Weerts, whose faith in a young cellar worker's blending abilities launched a partnership that endures today.

"Graham was my mentor—the first one to trust me and take me under his wing," Mario recalls. That trust manifested in opportunities: international experience across Burgundy, Mexico, and California's Stonestreet Winery, plus advanced sommelier training where Mario achieved top honours at CFPPA Beaune in 2006.

Their collaboration exemplifies successful mentorship: Graham brings refined technical skills and vision, while Mario contributes people skills, administrative competence, and deep cellar experience. Most importantly, they continue learning together, tasting and refining their approach with each vintage.

Learning together, tasting and refining their approach with each vintage.

Community Beyond the Cellar

The name Dalkeith honours a Kalahari waterhole where animals gather during the harsh beauty of African days. This metaphor isn't just a poetic flourish—it drives genuine community engagement that extends far beyond the winery gates.

Mario has enrolled his entire cellar team in the SKOP programme, the same education that transformed his trajectory. "I believe this teaches them why everything matters—from vineyards to cellar," he explains. It's investment in people over profit, understanding that exceptional wines emerge from exceptional teams.

His weekend bicycle club takes Wellington youngsters into the mountains, providing bikes and guidance for exploring their natural heritage safely. These initiatives reflect the Jackson Family Wines philosophy of positive environmental and social impact, but they also reveal Mario's commitment to nurturing the next generation.

Philosophy in Practice

Mario's father's wisdom echoes through his professional approach: "If you want to do something, don't be scared to do it. You might make a mistake, fall, but then you get up again." This fearlessness enabled the complete abandonment of new oak, the adoption of intensive barrel maintenance, and the commitment to minimal intervention despite industry pressure for more dramatic winemaking.

"We don't want to make wine that's over-complex or too geeky," Mario emphasises. "We just want to show the essence of what can be if you source good quality grapes." This simplicity requires extraordinary discipline—monthly tastings, careful testing, meticulous barrel management—all while resisting the temptation to over-manipulate.

The Future of South African Fine Wine

Dalkeith represents something profound in South African winemaking: the emergence of producers who honour terroir without apology, who create accessibility without compromising quality, who build community while crafting world-class wines. Mario's journey from holiday worker to head winemaker illustrates the democratic potential of South African wine—talent recognised, mentorship provided, opportunities seized.

As Swartland continues establishing its reputation globally, winemakers like Mario prove that authenticity and excellence aren't mutually exclusive. His wines vibrate with what he calls "quiet energy"—the crystalline purity that emerges when winemakers learn to listen rather than dictate.

In an industry obsessed with scores and accolades, Mario Damon offers something more valuable: proof that the best wines emerge not from manipulation but from partnership between winemaker, vineyard, and community. These are indeed wines made to be told, stories worth sharing, expressions of place that honour both tradition and innovation.

The accountant who never was has become the winemaker the Swartland needed—someone who understands that the most profound expressions often emerge when we step back, listen carefully, and let the land speak for itself.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

The wine industry is experiencing its most dramatic transformation in centuries, and honestly, it's thrilling to witness. While others see chaos in the collision of AI and ancient traditions, smart operators are spotting the blueprint for something extraordinary. From Cape Town's innovative winemakers to global pioneers, we're watching the phoenix rise from digital disruption's flames.

This isn't about choosing between tradition and technology—it's about using innovation to honour authenticity more deeply than ever before. The four pillars of wine success remain unshakeable, but how we build upon them is revolutionising everything.

Welcome to wine's phoenix moment.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

The wine industry is experiencing its most dramatic transformation in centuries, and honestly, it's thrilling to witness. While others see chaos in the collision of AI and ancient traditions, smart operators are spotting the blueprint for something extraordinary. From Cape Town's innovative winemakers to global pioneers, we're watching the phoenix rise from digital disruption's flames.

This isn't about choosing between tradition and technology—it's about using innovation to honour authenticity more deeply than ever before. The four pillars of wine success remain unshakeable, but how we build upon them is revolutionising everything.

Welcome to wine's phoenix moment.

Wine's Phoenix Moment: Rising From Digital Disruption

Picture courtesy of Oldenburg Vineyards.

The wine industry is having its phoenix moment right now, and frankly, it's about time.

We're watching centuries-old traditions collide with artificial intelligence, sustainability demands crash into market realities, and consumer expectations shift faster than a Stellenbosch harvest. The old playbook? It's not just outdated—it's been digitally shredded.

But here's what gets me genuinely excited: while others see chaos, the smart operators see the blueprint for something extraordinary emerging from these flames.

We're Navigating Uncharted Waters

The wine landscape has transformed so dramatically that even seasoned industry veterans are admitting they're sailing without familiar stars. AI is now helping winemakers predict harvest timing with precision that would make our ancestors weep with joy. Meanwhile, blockchain technology is tracking bottles from vine to glass, creating transparency that consumers increasingly demand.

Yet amidst this digital revolution, something beautifully human is happening. Young winemakers across the Cape and beyond aren't just adopting new technologies—they're wielding them to amplify authenticity, not replace it. They're using soil sensors and weather modelling to make more intuitive decisions, not less.

This isn't about choosing between tradition and innovation. It's about using innovation to honour tradition more deeply than ever before.

The Four Pillars Still Stand Strong

Even as everything shifts around us, my four pillars of wine industry success remain unshakeable:

High-quality grapes and winemaking techniques are now enhanced by precision viticulture. Drones map vineyard health while ancient fermentation wisdom guides the process. The marriage is stunning.

Unique and authentic wine experiences have exploded beyond the tasting room. Virtual tastings, augmented reality labels, and AI-powered food pairing apps are creating connections that transcend physical boundaries. A wine lover in Tokyo can now experience the terroir of Hemel-en-Aarde Valley in ways we never imagined.

Storytelling and brand identity have evolved into dynamic narratives. Social media algorithms reward authentic voices while punishing corporate speak. The wineries thriving today are those brave enough to share their real stories—failures, experiments, and all.

Relationships and collaboration have become the ultimate competitive advantage. The most successful wine businesses today aren't just selling wine; they're building communities, fostering connections, and creating movements.

The Phoenix Rises

Like the legendary phoenix, our industry is emerging from the ashes of old assumptions with feathers of pure innovation. The flames that burnt away outdated distribution models, rigid marketing approaches, and one-size-fits-all consumer strategies have cleared space for something magnificent.

AI isn't replacing the winemaker's intuition—it's amplifying it. Sustainability isn't constraining creativity—it's inspiring it. Direct-to-consumer platforms aren't killing traditional retail—they're complementing it.

The phoenix metaphor resonates because it captures the transformation happening at every level. Small family wineries are using e-commerce platforms to reach global audiences. Established houses are partnering with tech startups to revolutionise customer engagement. Even wine education is being democratised through apps that can identify wine characteristics from a simple photo.

Picture courtesy of Oldenburg Vineyards.

Perfect Positioning in an Imperfect World

This is where perfect positioning becomes crucial. The winners in this new landscape aren't those predicting the future perfectly—they're those positioning themselves to thrive regardless of which trends stick and which fade.

But here's what nobody talks about—attitude is the invisible multiplier that determines whether strategic positioning actually works. You can't control harvest weather or market volatility, but you can absolutely control whether you approach challenges with curiosity or cynicism, with openness or defensiveness. The wineries thriving today share a common thread: they see disruption as opportunity, not threat.

The smart money is on wineries that embrace technology while never losing sight of the human elements that make wine magical. They're investing in both state-of-the-art equipment and old-vine preservation. They're building Instagram-worthy tasting rooms and maintaining relationships with multi-generational customers.

They understand that in a world of infinite choice, authenticity becomes the ultimate differentiator. And authenticity isn't just about what you do—it's about the energy you bring to everything you do.

The South African Advantage

From our vantage point in Cape Town, we're witnessing something special. South African winemakers are proving that emerging wine regions can leapfrog traditional powerhouses by embracing innovation without abandoning character.

Our industry's diversity—from Pinotage pioneers to natural wine rebels—positions us perfectly for a world that craves both tradition and disruption. We're not constrained by centuries of "This is how it's always been done." We're free to ask, "What if we did it better?"

The global wine conversation is shifting, and South African voices are increasingly being heard. Our stories of transformation, resilience, and innovation resonate with consumers worldwide who are seeking more than just another bottle of wine.

The Conversation Continues

The beautiful truth remains unchanged: wine is about connection. Whether that connection happens over a shared bottle in a Franschhoek cellar or through a virtual tasting connecting three continents, the magic lies in the human moment.

Technology enables these connections, but it doesn't create them. Authenticity does. Passion does. The willingness to share not just your wine, but your story, your struggles, and your triumphs.

As we navigate these uncharted waters, the compass remains the same: create wines that matter, tell stories that resonate, and build relationships that endure.

The phoenix has risen, and it's magnificent. The question isn't whether you'll adapt to this new landscape—it's whether you'll help shape it.

Ready to position yourself perfectly for wine's next chapter? The future belongs to those bold enough to write it.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

Some winemakers inherit tradition; others create it. Wade Roger-Lund is doing both. At Meerendal's historic Durbanville estate, he's stewarding one of South Africa's most precious viticultural treasures—a 70-year-old Pinotage block that represents the very DNA of our signature grape.

As Pinotage celebrates its centenary in 2025, Wade's vision extends beyond preservation to transformation, converting the entire estate to organic certification while crafting wines that honour the past and embrace the future. His emotional release of the 2023 Heritage Block Pinotage marks not just a vintage but a pivotal moment in South African wine history.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Some winemakers inherit tradition; others create it. Wade Roger-Lund is doing both. At Meerendal's historic Durbanville estate, he's stewarding one of South Africa's most precious viticultural treasures—a 70-year-old Pinotage block that represents the very DNA of our signature grape.

As Pinotage celebrates its centenary in 2025, Wade's vision extends beyond preservation to transformation, converting the entire estate to organic certification while crafting wines that honour the past and embrace the future. His emotional release of the 2023 Heritage Block Pinotage marks not just a vintage but a pivotal moment in South African wine history.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Wade Roger-Lund: Crafting the Future of Pinotage at Meerendal

Standing among the gnarled vines of Meerendal's Heritage Block, Wade Roger-Lund embodies the perfect blend of reverence and innovation that defines today's most compelling winemakers. As cellar master at this historic Durbanville estate, he's stewarding not just any vineyard but one of South Africa's most significant Pinotage blocks—70 years old and counting.

"I felt a requirement to do right by that block," Wade reflects, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility that comes with tending to viticultural history. "It's the third oldest Pinotage block in the country, in the world. It deserves to have a standing."

Wade Roger-Lund: Cellar Master championing organic viticulture at Meerendal Estate.

A New Chapter in Organic Farming

Wade's vision for Meerendal extends far beyond traditional winemaking boundaries. Under his direction, the entire estate has embarked on an ambitious organic conversion that will see full certification by 2028. The transformation began on November 1, 2024, when every vine on the property officially entered either organic certification or conversion status.

"The whole farm will be fully certified in 2028," Wade explains with characteristic determination. This means the Heritage Block Pinotage will carry organic certification from the 2027 vintage onwards—a fitting evolution for vines that have witnessed seven decades of South African wine history.

The decision to go organic isn't merely about following trends; it's about respecting the land that has given so generously for generations. "I like old vines”. "They really have a place, and it is a responsibility to work with them because they are such exceptional vineyards to produce wines," Wade notes, emphasising how organic practices align with his philosophy of working carefully with what nature provides.

The Weight of History

Working with a 70-year-old vineyard is both privilege and pressure, something Wade discovered viscerally during the release of his 2023 Heritage Block Pinotage in March 2025. "I didn't expect it to affect me emotionally as much as it did," he admits. "I was quite emotional about it because it's not just that block. Everything that Herman [Coertze, the owner] and I discussed in 2022 and everything we've been working towards culminated in that wine."

The Heritage Block represents something extraordinary in Pinotage's timeline. While the grape was first bottled in 1959 from Bellevue grapes under the Lanzerac label, Meerendal's 1969 vintage holds special significance as the first 100% estate Pinotage bottled in South Africa. "It's the original clone of Perold's Pinotage," Wade emphasises. "It's also the largest commercial block left of that."

This historical weight informed Wade's decision to create just 850 bottles of the 2023 vintage through careful barrel selection. The wine has already garnered critical acclaim, earning 92 points from Christian Eedes and 94 points from Platters for the 2023 vintage still ageing in barrel.

Meerendal Heritage Block Pinotage 2023: just 850 bottles produced.

Celebrating a Century of Pinotage

As South Africa celebrates 100 years of Pinotage in 2025, Wade's work at Meerendal provides a compelling case study in how the varietal can evolve while honouring its roots. The grape, created by Professor Abraham Izak Perold through crossing Pinot Noir with Cinsaut, has become synonymous with South African wine identity.

"There's so much change. This wind of change is blowing through Pinotage in South Africa, and I like it," Wade says, his enthusiasm evident. But he's careful to distinguish his approach from what some call the "new style" of Pinotage. "A lot of winemakers of the last few years have started making these more polished, softer styles. But I tend to err that it's not actually a new style."

Instead, Wade seeks balance—respecting Pinotage's inherent character while creating wines that can compete globally. "What I've tried to keep is that I didn't want to make it too polished so that it loses that essential rusticity that Pinotage should have," he explains. "It still has that Pinotage robustness, that distinctive character the varietal is known for."

Preserving Genetic Heritage

Meerendal's collaboration with Vititec to preserve the original DNA of their Heritage Block vines represents forward-thinking viticulture at its finest. After six years of careful selection, treatment, and virus cleaning of the best vines, new planting material has been released to fill gaps in the historic block.

"These original vines—nine times out of 10, I would almost likely plant these vines because they're going to give me a style of Pinotage that I think, on a global scale, has a much bigger chance of persuading the global market," Wade argues passionately. His conviction extends beyond Meerendal's boundaries: "It's a Meerendal clone, but I'd be happy for other people to plant it." “I'd love them to plant more of this variety, this clone, and get it out there."

Meerendal Estate: a 20-minute drive from Cape Town's bustle, worlds away in winemaking philosophy.

A Label That Tells a Story

The decision to model the Heritage Block label after Meerendal's iconic 1969 design wasn't mere nostalgia—it was strategic storytelling. "I was looking at this wine, and I just thought to myself, 'You know what, it would be really nice to pay homage to the block, to the first wine that came from that block,'" Wade recalls.

When he pitched the idea to owner Herman Coertze, the response was immediate enthusiasm. The resulting label creates a visual bridge between past and present, honouring the vineyard's significance while announcing Meerendal's renewed focus on excellence.

Trusting Your Gut

Ask Wade about his defining characteristic as a winemaker, and he doesn't hesitate: "Trusting your gut." It's a philosophy born from technical knowledge but tempered by intuition. "I base a lot of it on the technical side, but being a winemaker, a lot of it is about your gut feeling."

This approach served him well when he made his first harvest decisions at Meerendal in 2023, just months after arriving. "2023 was gut feel because I started in May 2022. I was basing it off what I tasted of the 2022 wines that were made before, looking at the vineyards, and then I made a gut call."

The success of that vintage validated his instincts and set the stage for even greater achievements. "The experts all very much rated the 2024, and they say that the 2024 is going to be a showstopper," Wade reports with quiet satisfaction.

The 1936 Manor House, now Meerendal's boutique hotel.

Building for the Future

Wade's vision for Meerendal centres on making Pinotage the estate's flagship. "100%, I want to focus on Pinotage being the flagship range of this brand," he states unequivocally. "The peripheral wines allow me to focus on the block, and that's what I'm so happy about—that I'm getting to work with a 70-year-old block of vineyards. Not very many winemakers in this country get to do that."

This focus reflects advice he received from wine critic Tim Atkins in 2022: "Find a focus point." For Wade, that focus point became crystal clear. "This block is my focus point. That block is the poster child for this farm."

The results speak for themselves. After years of dedicated work, Meerendal is generating excitement again. "It's nice to see that the effort I've put in here for the last three years is actually starting to pay off," Wade reflects. "People have started talking about Meerendal again, and rightfully so."

His confidence in the estate's trajectory is infectious. As he told owner Herman Coertze after the Heritage Block release, "We're on the crest of the wave. We're getting there. You'll see the horizon soon."

In an industry where heritage and innovation must dance together, Wade Roger-Lund has found the perfect partner in Meerendal's ancient vines. As Pinotage celebrates its centenary, his work ensures this uniquely South African grape will continue evolving, guided by the wisdom of old vines and the vision of those who tend them.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

A century ago, Professor Abraham Izak Perold crossed two grape varieties in his Stellenbosch laboratory, unknowingly creating South Africa's most distinctive wine ambassador. Today, as Pinotage celebrates its 100th birthday, this uniquely South African grape is experiencing a remarkable renaissance. From Jacques Bruwer's excitement about the 2025 vintage to Nongceba Langa's success in American markets, a new generation of winemakers is elevating Pinotage from curiosity to world-class wine.

In our last newsletter, we explored the passionate characters behind Pinotage's evolution, the innovative techniques driving its premium positioning, and why this climate-resilient variety represents the future of South African wine excellence.

Get ready to be inspired.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

A century ago, Professor Abraham Izak Perold crossed two grape varieties in his Stellenbosch laboratory, unknowingly creating South Africa's most distinctive wine ambassador. Today, as Pinotage celebrates its 100th birthday, this uniquely South African grape is experiencing a remarkable renaissance. From Jacques Bruwer's excitement about the 2025 vintage to Nongceba Langa's success in American markets, a new generation of winemakers is elevating Pinotage from curiosity to world-class wine.

This week, we explore the passionate characters behind Pinotage's evolution, the innovative techniques driving its premium positioning, and why this climate-resilient variety represents the future of South African wine excellence.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Pinotage at 100: A Toast to Our Homegrown Hero.

Picture this: a century ago, Professor Abraham Izak Perold was tinkering in his laboratory at Stellenbosch University, crossing Pinot Noir with Cinsaut (then called Hermitage) in what would become one of the most significant moments in South African wine history. Little did he know that his botanical matchmaking would create our country's signature grape variety—one that would put South African wine firmly on the global map.

As we celebrate Pinotage's 100th birthday in 2025, it's worth raising a glass not just to the grape itself, but to the remarkable characters who've championed it through decades of triumph, challenge, and reinvention.

The Pioneers Who Believed

While Professor Perold never lived to experience the wines that would emerge from his experimental crossing, visionary winemakers who followed recognised the treasure he'd left behind. It took nearly four decades before the first bottles reached consumers in 1959, following Bellevue Estate's triumph at the National Young Wine Show with their General Smuts Trophy win. Two years later, Stellenbosch Farmers Winery released it under the Lanzerac label, and South African wine was never quite the same.

Fast-forward to today, and you'll find passionate advocates like Cape Wine Master Mark Philp asking the rhetorical question: "Without Pinotage, a variety that is certainly something of our own, where would we hang our hat?" It's a sentiment that resonates deeply with anyone who understands that great wine regions need their own identity, their own story to tell.

Meerendal's Wade Roger-Lund and his 1955 Pinotage Heritage Block passion project.

The Modern Champions

What makes Pinotage's story particularly compelling is how a new generation of winemakers has elevated it from curiosity to world-class wine. Consider Beyers Truter from Beyerskloof, whose exceptional winemaking earned him global recognition when he claimed the title of Best Winemaker in the World at the International Wine and Spirit Competition. He attributes Pinotage's success to Perold's brilliant choice of parent varieties, recognising that the professor selected grapes that were not only high-yielding but also disease-resistant—perfect for our challenging South African conditions.

Then there's Jacques Bruwer at Bon Courage in Robertson, who's absolutely thrilled about the 2025 vintage. His excitement is palpable when discussing the remarkable fruit concentration achieved through this year's compact, flavour-packed berries, declaring his confidence in what promises to be an exceptional vintage. His enthusiasm is infectious, and it's exactly this kind of passion that keeps pushing Pinotage's boundaries.

Over in Stellenbosch, Nongceba Langa at Delheim has been instrumental in showing international markets what Pinotage can achieve. She recalls her early visits to the United States when consumers were still unsure about our grape. Today, however, she's witnessing a complete transformation in American wine lovers' attitudes. “They are drawn to its vibrant fruit character and its unique identity." That's the power of persistence and quality combined.

Innovation Meets Tradition

The brilliance of contemporary Pinotage production lies in how winemakers seamlessly marry modern innovation with traditional winemaking wisdom. Bartho Eksteen at his Hemel-en-Aarde estate is using the world's first Wilmess Sphera press—a technological marvel that represents precision pressing at its finest. Meanwhile, other producers are rediscovering ancient techniques, using concrete tanks and even amphoras to add unique textural qualities to their wines.

Philip Deetlefs, representing South Africa's second-oldest family-owned winery, offers an intriguing perspective on Pinotage's evolution: "The image of Pinotage has improved dramatically from my father's time. International vineyards are now establishing their own Pinotage blocks, a clear testament to the variety's growing global appeal."

This international recognition didn't happen overnight. It's the result of decades of refinement, understanding, and most importantly, the willingness of these winemakers to experiment and push boundaries.

The Global Conversation Starters

Siobhan Thompson from Wines of South Africa brilliantly describes Pinotage's marketing magic: the variety serves as an instant connection to our country, sparking immediate interest and providing the perfect gateway for international conversations about South African wine excellence.

That "hook" is working beautifully. From European markets that have embraced our signature grape to emerging opportunities in China and the United States, Pinotage is opening doors and starting conversations about South African wine quality and innovation.

Bellevue's Wilhelm Kritzinger tends some of the world's oldest Pinotage vines, planted in 1953.

Climate-Smart Viticulture

Perhaps most importantly for our future, Pinotage is proving to be remarkably well-suited to our changing climate. The variety's natural tendency to ripen before the peak summer temperatures provides a crucial advantage, helping vintners sidestep both extreme heat stress and the complications of late-harvest weather patterns. Riaan Marais at Alvi's Drift puts it perfectly: "We are fortunate that Pinotage is so well adapted to our weather conditions, and I believe it is because it was developed right here on home soil."

Looking Forward

Rico Basson from South Africa Wine emphasizes the variety's distinctive character: while the country produces exceptional wines from numerous grape varieties, Pinotage maintains its position as something truly extraordinary and unmatched. And special it truly is—producing everything from elegant blanc de noir to robust reds with remarkable aging potential, not to mention its crucial role in our distinctive Cape blends.

After a century of evolution, experimentation, and excellence, Pinotage isn't just surviving—it's thriving. As Jacques Bruwer beautifully puts it: "Pinotage is a hundred years young, not a hundred years old."

So here's to the next century of this uniquely South African success story, and to all the passionate individuals who continue to write its chapters. Cheers to our homegrown hero!

This article draws on published interviews and industry insights from South African wine producers and industry leaders.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

Here's the uncomfortable truth: while you've been perfecting your tasting notes and fine-tuning your blends, your competitors are rewriting the rules of the wine game. The industry's biggest risk isn't climate change or market volatility—it's the epidemic of playing not to lose. From Stellenbosch to Sonoma, too many producers are choosing the safety of incremental tweaks over the courage of transformative vision.

But that's what separates the Kanonkops from the also-rans: they understand that in today's wine world, playing it safe is the most dangerous strategy of all. Are you ready to stop defending and start winning?

Get ready to be inspired.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.

Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa!

Here's the uncomfortable truth: while you've been perfecting your tasting notes and fine-tuning your blends, your competitors are rewriting the rules of the wine game. The industry's biggest risk isn't climate change or market volatility—it's the epidemic of playing not to lose. From Stellenbosch to Sonoma, too many producers are choosing the safety of incremental tweaks over the courage of transformative vision.

But that's what separates the Kanonkops from the also-rans: they understand that in today's wine world, playing it safe is the most dangerous strategy of all. Are you ready to stop defending and start winning?

Here's where it gets interesting.

Picture courtesy of Zohair Mirza on Unsplash.

Most Wine Businesses Play Not to Lose (And Why That's the Riskiest Strategy).

Are you playing to win or playing not to lose?

Most wine businesses play not to lose. Always on the defence. Avoiding the leap. Skirting around the risk. Smart wine businesses play to win—and it changes everything.

Playing not to lose looks like: 

• Watching what competitors do, then cautiously following their lead 

• Obsessing over slight tweaks to packaging while ignoring deeper innovation 

• Clinging to "we've always done it this way" as your market share quietly erodes 

• Viewing climate change as only a threat rather than an opportunity to reimagine viticulture

Playing to win means: 

• Seeing the gaps in the market before others do, then boldly claiming them 

• Understanding that in the digital age, your story matters as much as what's in the bottle 

• Embracing technology not as a reluctant necessity but as a competitive advantage 

• Viewing sustainability not as a checkbox but as the backbone of your long-term strategy

The practical implications are profound.

When you play not to lose:

• Your margins shrink yearly as you compete on price rather than distinction

• Young talent seeks opportunities elsewhere, sensing your lack of vision

• International buyers visit your cellar out of courtesy, not excitement

• You become increasingly vulnerable to climate volatility with no adaptation strategy

When you play to win:

• Your wines command premium prices because they tell a story only you can tell

• You attract the brightest minds in viticulture and winemaking, eager to be part of something forward-thinking

• Your sustainability initiatives become case studies at Elsenburg and Stellenbosch University

• Your business builds resilience that withstands both market and climate fluctuations

The Old Vine Project transformed forgotten, neglected blocks into South Africa's most valuable vineyard assets. Kanonkop's Black Label Pinotage commands First Growth equivalent prices. These weren't accidents—they were the result of visionary producers who refused to play small.

The wine world doesn't reward those who wait anymore. In an era of changing climates, shifting consumer preferences, and digital transformation, playing it safe has become the riskiest strategy of all.

So which game are you playing?

Picture courtesy of Radford Dale.

Let’s dive into the stories that have been fermenting since our last newsletter...

Behind every groundbreaking winery stands a constellation of remarkable individuals who transform vision into reality. In our last issue, we ventured into the heart of South Africa's Western Cape to discover Radford Dale—where organic viticulture meets extraordinary human stories. Founded in 1998, this pioneering estate has quietly revolutionised sustainable winemaking through the dedication of exceptional women leading from behind the scenes.

From operations mastermind Heather Whitman to financial visionary Kathleen Krone and talented winemakers Petroné Thomas and Stefanie Viviers, these professionals are redefining what it means to craft wine with purpose. Their journey reveals that true sustainability encompasses environmental stewardship, social responsibility, and unwavering commitment to excellence.

Get ready to be inspired.

Let’s raise a glass to the fortnight ahead—may it bring you brilliant wines and more conversations to share in our next edition.