Mind the Gap

WARNING: This post is waaaay more heady than a meadowlark warbling (my last post).

Was at the best lunchtime presentation about the power of story last week, where the presenter, the creative mastermind behind the Portland Timbers advertising, Jelly Helm, a former Executive Creative Director at Wieden and Kennedy, shared some of his expertise. Even now it’s all still swirling in my head: the idea of story deficit in our culture (what we do have is way too shallow), about how the stories we’ve all depended upon as a society have been challenged and are in many cases no longer valid, the hero story — lots of heady stuff that I just LOVE, having a brand storyteller/writer background.

As I sat there and listened, I started thinking about the wine industry, the industry I now write for, and work in, and The Grande Dalles, and Scott and myself. And Steve Heimoff. What stories are now being told in the wine world, what stories aren’t, and at this junction the industry finds itself at, because it’s clear the wine world is going through something, what  scenarios will characterize the wine world and its stories moving forward?

This “junction” I’m speaking of pertains to one of the things Jelly shared with us, the idea of a “The Fourth Turning,” found in a book of the same name, by William Strauss and Neil Howe. In their book, these two guys set out to explain the cycles of history, and the “turnings” that characterize the generations that live in and through them. I lifted this from their site:

“The Fourth Turning helps us understand the dramatic cultural changes and mood shifts in our times. Economic and technologic conditions alone, for example, would have told you little about the pessimism of the ’90s.  Surely similar shifts lie ahead, and The Fourth Turning gives us a tool for thinking through possible scenarios.”

So here we are, in the fourth turning, set into action, in Jelly’s opinion on September 11. 2001. And wine-wise, we’ve been seeing some mood shifts and other changes. Like the old regime butting heads with the new especially in the realm of expertise and social media (see Steve Heimoff for numerous posts on this); there’s flat wine growth, especially at the price point we’re at and the mood is shifted to value, value, value; the hindered economy goes without saying, resulting in the “value” war cry; pimped out wines for yearly consistency and scores are still the norm; established labels are barely making it if they don’t offer something more along the lines of   “value” than individuality; prices are being slashed left and right, throwing further fuel on the “what does a wine price really mean?” lament; new labels are having to concede to the lowered expectations of consumers, or like us, keep plodding forward with our integrity (and prices, so far) intact, etc. – you get the picture. Visit Wine Business on any day and you’ll get a snapshot of the wine industry and to me, it’s not very pretty, or encouraging when, like us, we’re trying to swim against the current. But maybe that’ll change.

Jelly also told us about what a gentleman named Parker Palmer refers to as the “tragic gap.” According to Palmer, this is a place we all hold on to, with great tension, a space between what is, and what could be. As Jelly explained it, it’s that spot made between declining older models of culture and the new models that have yet to manifest themselves. The goal during this time, then, is to stand securely, centered in this tragic gap, and not get pulled to one side or the other. Palmer, in his video, says getting pulled to the side of “what is” results in corrosive cynicism, and pulled to the other results in irrelevant idealism. Either way, one becomes disengaged, “out of the action,” says Palmer. So if we want to move things forward, we have to stand in that gap, with conviction. With a purpose.

And that’s where we and the wine industry, from what I can tell, are now. In the gap. Are we in it securely? Do we have a purpose? Or is there a tending toward one side or the other? I know I often lean toward the corrosive cynic, for example, rolling my eyes at the latest rock star or football player making wine, and having the wine world oooh and aah over it when it’s really nothing but rich people using their money to buy expertise and vision; or an “Oregon” wine made with California grapes getting accolades (what the what is that? Talk about a case of I-don’t-know-who-I-am-but-no-matter-I-have-connections). Or I also find myself dreaming as any irrelevant idealist might, of this American dream we’ve embarked on and how we thought more people might be interested in the success of someone who really has no connections, or deep pockets or rock-star background or [fill in the blank of some shallow story that makes the wine headlines] but is smart enough, driven enough, wine-experienced enough. Sigh. Oh well.

I guess it’s time to cut the crap and pull ourselves together and get grounded in this gap’s center, leave the yo-yo thoughts for yo-yos, so we can move along, and be ready for the change that is a-comin’. As far as the rest of the wine world, I’m curious to see where the prevailing mood takes it; what scenarios will play out. For example, I don’t necessarily think the old regime needs to be toppled, although I do believe critics have sat on their pedestals long enough, and people’s reliance on them is absurd, since wine tasting is so subjective – so what does that mean? More consumer education? More reliance on making own opinions? Taking the “scary” factor out of wine? Who knows. I do think more value should be placed on the individual, who walks to the beat of their own drum so that we can get out of this hand-holding-complacency where we think everyone on the same boat will let us all sail safely to shore.  Jelly tells us we must look to visionaries who can see beyond what everyone else can. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Until then, mind the gap.