2008 Marketing Meme Prediction: Craft

I spent an 18-hour journey back from Italy yesterday engrossed in what has so far proven to be one of the best reads of 2007: Garrett Oliver's The Brewmaster's Table: Discovering the Pleasures of Real Beer with Real Food.

Oliver is the brewmaster and founder of Brooklyn Brewery, a brewery that I hold particulary close to my heart, as it's beer was the first craft beer ever to touch my lips: over a summer I spent in NYC during college, the small bodegas near my aunt's apartment always had a steady supply of Brooklyn IPA (they also seemed to not care that I barely looked a day over 20). Later in college, Brooklyn's Pennant Pale Ale became my go-to beer of choice, as the bar I worked at always included it in its selection of 40 taps.

I dare say that moving to California, my biggest regret is the unavailability of Brooklyn Beer (thanks to distribution laws). (My biggest disappointment yesterday came during a layover in JFK when after combing the terminal for a bar serving up Brooklyn, finally finding one with Pennant Pale Ale on tap (whohoo!), then hearing the sickening words from the bartender's lips that they were out of it...as well as out of a solid east-coast-only second choice, Magic Hat #9.)

But back to the book. Within the first 50 pages, Oliver's words resonated with truth. One of my favorite quotes follows below, which Oliver so eloquently presents in the context of a brief history of American beer. Here's a recap:

According to Oliver, pre-prohibition brewing in the United States was a respectable endeavor, starting with homebrewing efforts during the revolutionary war (patriots faced a cut off of British beer supply), which quickly evolved to small brewing operations, which increased after a wave of German immigration in the 1830's to see an explosion of breweries catering to German-style beer. But then came prohibition, and with it's end, a change in the way American's viewed beer. Oliver explains of brewers eager to get back to their craft: "But their world had changed, and they soon found that they had to change with it. It had been thirteen long years, and many people were not feeling terribly picky about the flavor qualities of the beer that was now offered." This, coupled with the backlash of the depression (the need to keep the cost of beer down), the rise of soft drinks, which were actually seen as competition to beer, and laws that required alcohol levels to be below 3.2%, left the brewers with no choice but to make a very different beer than it's pre-prohibition and worldly counterparts. "American beer, now sold by huge advertising campaigns, moved swiftly away from its European roots."

And now for my favorite quote:

"By the end of World War II, the American brewing industry was transformed. It would be an industry of fewer and fewer breweries, which themselves grew to become national behemoths. The product, following the cultural norms of the day, would become innocuous and bland, to the extent that even brewers could barely tell the beers apart. Volume selling, driven by advertising, would take over as the number one goal of American brewers. The modern mass-market American lager beer, a watery, flavorless beverage unrecognizable to any visiting German, emerged into an American culinary landscape paved over by fast food restaurants, processed cheese, and frozen vegetables. After 10,000 years of flavorful brewing around the world,the American brewers had finally reduced the progenitor of human civilization to a pallid ghost in a can."

A pallid ghost in a can. That is what thousands of Americans have been content to drink for over half a century. SAB-Miller, Coors, Anheiser-Busch--all of these behemoths emerged from the post-WWII brewing strategy of quantity over quality and all of these behemouths have continued to serve up this pallid ghost for nearly 60 years. Why? Because they brew to demand, they market for profit, and for 60 years, this pallid ghost is what many Americans have been content to consider "beer." Sure, the mega-brewers have changed their products, and their marketing campaigns over time (certainly their marketing campaigns): American's on a diet? We'll invent light beer. American's want caffeine with their alcohol? Have a caffeinated beer. American's like small-batch, craft brews? Sure, we can do that too.

Record scratch.

Nope. You can't. You can't suddenly become a craftsman.

Throughout the disastrous reign of mega-breweries, American beer has thankfully had an alternative, a group of small brewers that have dedicated themselves to what Oliver refers to throughout his book as "real beer," beer that follows the thousands of years of brewing traditions. The rise of these small breweries, starting in the late 1970's, became what Oliver calls a "new age of American brewing." Not unlike early American brewing efforts, this movement started mostly thorough home brewing efforts, from people like Oliver who were seeking the tastes and pleasures unavailable through the products of large American breweries. Home brewing efforts naturally extended to small brewery operations, and soon America was populated with hundreds of craft brewers, all making beers according to their individual taste preferences.

"Craft Brewing" is the term that has arisen to describe these breweries, and it is particularly appropriate. Craft is a term that dates back thousands of years, to apply to the products made by hand or man-operated machinery before the industrial revolution and assembly line. Those who produce crafts earn the title of artisan or craftsman, often only after a rigorous apprentiship ensuring that they learned all aspects of the trade. The key idea behind craftsmanship was this training--you learned your craft through another craftsman and were taught not only the steps in producing the product but the pride in quality, in standing behind what you produced, and in support of fellow craftsman. As I said, you can't become a craftsman overnight.

According to the Brewer's Association, Craft Beer is defined as the product of a brewing operation that is small, independent, and traditional. Unfortunately, "craft" seems to be the buzz word usurped by many a mega-brewery. Sure you can take your industrial assembly line and use it to produce craft-like products, but this doesn't make you a craftsman. And it doesn't make what you produce craft.

Realizing that Americans want craft--that we want to relish flavor and quality, want to experience the particular nuances of a finely hopped beer, want to sample seasonal offerings and annual brews, and most importantly want to know who is making their beer and how--does not mean you are qualified to become a craftsman. And it certainly does not mean that you can claim the beer you are producing is a craft beer.

I know that some people have reviewed certain mass-produced specialty beers positively, citing taste alone as the deciding factor. If a mega-brewery can produce a tasteworthy small-batch brew, who cares about anything else? they claim. I disagree wholeheartedly. It's not just about taste. It's about integrity. It's about knowing that the person who is brewing the beer you are drinking cares passionately about the final product, and that they are doing it for a love of the craft, not just for the profits.

I am afraid, however, that 2008 is going to see a lot of these so-called craft imitators. And I urge you against buying into the marketing hype. If a beer has to advertise that it is "artfully crafted," it's going to make me doubt that it actually was. Advertisements like this make me cringe:



Hand-crafted products have a quality that is self-evident. An attention to detail, a slight imperfection here or there. And above all, a truthfulness about them that can only come from making a product that you are proud of. My resolution this year is to dedicate myself to true craftsmanship, to steer clear of the pallid imitators, and to realize the difference between the two. I hope you will join me.