Caol Ila 1991 25yo

I understand that’s an atrociously vague thing to say, being utterly apropos of almost anything yet nothing, so let’s narrow the field a bit. When we look at the state of whisky today, there’s a lot to be taken advantage of; the staggering amount of whisky for one thing, then the amount of information and number of opinions about them for another. It’s on this latter point that I’m particularly speculative. The fact I’m sitting here writing an article about whisky which will (hopefully) be enjoyed by some number of people is largely attributable to the pioneering work of those that have come before, progressing the whisky industry and particularly those that have progressed whisky writing. Although there have been many astute figures that fall into this latter group quite comfortably, there’s one that has always held my heart further aloft than the rest – Michael Jackson.

As with many others, my first introduction to Jackson’s works were not through whisky, but through his equally precious writings on beer. If you’re of the notion that beer is a fizzy bitter-sweet drink that should usually taste like Corona or thereabouts (though I doubt that to be the case in this audience) I challenge you to watch his beer hunter series and remain unaffected. It was that series, specifically his episode on Burgundies of Belgium, which finally broke the camel’s back and drew me away from academia and toward brewing, then later to distilling. If you’ll indulge me, the below excerpt from one of his articles (for Playboy magazine of all things) speaks perfectly to the beautiful way Jackson viewed beverages. Though he wrote about beer here, I’m sure we can infer an identical passion for our amber nectar;

“Beer is as if it were a temptation of Eve. Like sex, good beer is a pleasure that can be better appreciated with experience and which variety is both endless and mandatory. The pleasure lies too in gaining the experience, the encounters with the unexpected, the possibility of triumph or disaster, the pursuit of the elusive, the constant lessons, the bitter-sweet memories that linger.”

His writing and interviews on whisky were the same; he possessed a passion and commitment to the appreciation, understanding and promotion of grain beverages which has seldom been approached elsewhere. It’s fascinating to listen to others recall their encounters and relationships with the man.

Almost universally they speak to a kind of gravitational charisma and razor-edged wit. He’s often synonymous with the same virtues exemplifying the best aspects of the industry – a dogged pursuit of flavour exploration and the stories of those forging it for our enjoyment.

Martine Nouet (who is also a phenomenal writer, gastronomique and whisky lover) has long and frequently recounted her relationship with Jackson and the impact he had on her professional raison d’etre. Even Jim Murray with his, shall we say, ‘encompassing’ personality admits to Jackson’s widespread influences on the industry. Everywhere we turn in the world of whisky, it seems some veteran or another has an anecdote recalling an experience with Jackson, usually with some good tongue in cheek humour or a sage bit of observation.

Though it’s surely clear in reading this, I should properly disclaim myself as enraptured by Jackson’s work. It’s guided much of my enjoyment of food and drink, helped form opinions and shaped my stance regarding certain topics. I don’t necessarily agree with everything the man wrote, and given the chance to read some of the information available today, I suspect some of his opinions would be different to those first published decades ago. That is the sign of a true enthusiast though; to update one’s views with new information, perspectives and ideas. No, it isn’t just the positions he took on certain drinks, it was his delivery, as well as the time during which he wrote and the all pervading devotion to uncover the history, culture and wonders that these drinks bring. Before his attentions, beer and whisky had largely been forgotten as a cultured drink in the eyes of mainstream society; please allow me a digression here.

Even today there’s a snobbish thumbing of noses toward beer by some echelons of high society in favour of wine. There are typical suggestions from such people that wine is a more complex, nuanced and varied beverage. Well, I posit this is demonstrably untrue. The combinatorial nature of beer with its multitude of ingredients, production processes and cultural influences dwarfs wine by mathematics if by no other mechanism and I would argue tooth and nail for other reasons too. The sheer capacity for variety and detail of flavour is immense. Whisky enjoys many of these same virtues by property of transference. One also sets forth that the pervasion of wine in high culture is thus more an attribute of historical marketing than it is a statement of quality. Consider this point accordingly; of the historically famous wine producing countries and regions which would have benefitted from the prosperity of wine as a valuable commodity, which have had a significant impact on current Western culture? Italy (Roman empire), France (Napoleonic empire) Portugal (Portuguese empire) and Spain (Spanish empire). Hmm…

I say this not to denigrate wine, which is obviously a marvellous drink, but rather to emphasise the importance of beer and whisky. Beer helped keep entire cultures alive at various times when water sources were unsafe to drink. The very discovery of fermented grains helped us crawl out of the first cradles of civilisation during the establishment of agriculture in the east (near Mesopotamia). It helped establish a degree of emancipation for women in Britain up until the 1500s during the reformation and, later, when figures like King James and other religious sycophants accused female brewers and beer business owners of being witches (seriously). Whisky and its predecessor spirits were used as a method for stabilising farming economies across seasons and giving farmers increased revenue.

We better know beer and whisky’s value today, but in Jackson’s early career of drinks writing there must have been a seemingly insurmountable cavalcade of social dictums and preconceptions to dispel – we all owe the man greatly. He helped to level the playing field somewhat and demonstrated that beer and whisky should sit at the same table as other fine food and beverages. It’s his baton we still carry today and though it is a microscopically small fraction of such, it is a legacy I’m proud to participate in.