You’ve probably seen the news from Europe. The headline on Politico read, “Bordeaux bloodbath! France pays winemakers to dig up vines.” The French government has allocated €120 million to subsidize the removal of as many as 30,000 hectares of grape vines in the Bordeaux region due to unfavorable market conditions, according to EuroNews. That’s about €4,000 per hectare. The Bordeaux program is part of a bigger plan to take as many as 100,000 hectares (out of a total of 800,000) out of production.
It seems to me that the numbers are both big (100,000 hectares removed?) and small (€4,000 per hectare). American growers will rue the fact that they generally don’t receive subsidies from anyone when they are forced to grub up vines. The French are both lucky and not.
Grubbing up is a hardy perennial. France isn’t the only country that has to pull out surplus vines today and this isn’t the first time, either. I looked back in The Wine Economist archives to see when the topic of grubbing up first appeared on these pages. Here is what I found. You’ll note that I was skeptical about the EU program when I wrote this back in 2008. New Zealand’s earlier vine-pull scheme turned out well, I noted, but ripping out vines is only a temporary fix unless there are associated policy and structural changes to alter the market balance. I expect the same holds true today.
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Grubbing Up / The Wine Economist / May 6, 2008
Grubbing up is one of my favorite wine economics terms. It means to pull the vines up by the roots and replace them with other agricultural crops. It is a harsh term, just as it sounds, because it is the opposite of wine — it is anti-wine. Grubbing up isn’t something that a wine lover contemplates with ease, but sometimes it is necessary. The European Union’s Council of Ministers has recently finalized a grubbing up scheme for the EU and it is probably a good idea, even if it may not work.
Watering Down the Wine Lake
The problem is that EU wine production vastly exceeds demand with the result that thousands of liters of wine must be bought up by the EU each year and distilled into alcohol to prevent prices from dropping through the floor. The distillation price support only encourages continued production, waste and expense. It is a mess — a wine lake, as people say — and it has to stop.
A fairly radical plan was introduced a few years ago, one that would have paid farmers to grub up thousands of hectare of vines and introduced market reforms to allow (by deregulating) and to encourage (through supporting programs) European winegrowers to compete more effectively with New World winemakers who are taking their markets.
The package that the Council of Ministers agreed last week is significant even if it is less radical than the original initiative (Decanter magazine called it “watered-down” — never a good thing when you are talking about wine). The program called for subsidies to encourage winegrowers to eliminate up to 175,000 hectares of vines (versus 400,000 hectares in the original proposal), limit chaptalisation (the addition of sugar in the wine-making process) rather than eliminating it, and market-based reforms that encourage and enable winegrowers to compete on world markets (through varietal labeling of wines) rather than hide behind protective barriers.
I’ve been reading up on the details of the final EU plan and it is pretty interesting. The program includes money for grubbing up, of course, and deregulation of wine labels, removal of some vine planting restrictions (so marketable grape varieties can replace uneconomic grubbed up varietals), funds for wine promotion abroad, and so forth. Like any EU program, it is a complicated balance of economic reality, fiscal feasibility and political necessity.
The idea is to help the European wine industry transition to a new market environment, where export markets are growing, domestic markets shrinking and competition is fierce. It is not unreasonable to think that policies like this could work. They worked in New Zealand in the 1980s, for example.
Lessons from Kiwi Wine History
New Zealand today is famous as one of the great success stories in the world wine market. A small nation in an unlikely location, it punches above its weight in the global wine market, holding the title as champion exporter. Not in quantity, obviously, but in price. New Zealand has the highest average export price of any wine producing country.
But such was not the case 25 years ago. New Zealand suffered from a surplus of mediocre wine that could only be sold domestically behind high protective barriers. The industry collapsed with many failed firms from a combination of bad wine and surplus production. The government paid to grub up vines and then opened the market to international competition. Cheap but better wines from Australia flooded in to fill the domestic bulk wine market, leaving New Zealand producers only one choice — make better wine for export. They have done so brilliantly. Their success inspires the EU reforms.
It would be a mistake to think that what worked so well in New Zealand in the 1980s will work equally well in Europe today. It is unlikely that the EU would be willing to let its wine sector reach the sort of crisis that New Zealand experienced and that motivated the dramatic reforms implemented there. If big change comes from big crisis, as I believe (I wrote a book on this theme), then Europe is unlikely to see big change. The social cost of crisis is just too great. The guiding principle of EU policy is to prevent crisis, which makes change that much harder to effect.
Comparing New Zealand to Europe is problematic in other ways, too. New Zealand’s wine production is tiny — a drop in the bucket, really — whereas European producers account for well more than half of all the wine in the world. New Zealand’s grubbing up program may have been difficult, but only 1500 hectares were uprooted rather than the “watered-down” 175,000 set for the EU.
Changing the Rules of the Game
The principle of the EU wine reform scheme is sound, yet many reports that I have read are pessimistic. I think this is mainly because the final reforms are so much more timid that the initial proposal. But there are other reasons for concern.
One thing that economists have learned over the past 25 years is that institutions matter. This is another way of saying that economic forces do not always produce the same results. If the “rules of the game” are different the laws of economics will produce different results. Institutions are the rules of the game in life. Dani Rodrik, my favorite development economist, makes this point in his recent book One Economics, Many Recipes. The nature of local institutions, public and private, formal and informal, shapes the economic landscape in important ways.
This idea applies to the EU reforms in particular. Take the grubbing up scheme, for example. An incentive to repurpose large but unprofitable vineyards in Australia, for example, might well meet with an enthusiastic response because the institutions of wine growing there are different, with large vineyards and a consolidated industry. But European vineyards are much different and represent a completely different model.
Many vineyards (where much of the inferior surplus wine originates) are tiny inherited plots of a hectare or so, frequently on sites with few viable alternative uses. The rules of the game here are much different. A hectare might produce 20-30 tons if badly overcropped and, at perhaps $500 per ton at the local cooperative, gross revenues are too small for a family to live on but too great (compared to alternative uses) to give up. It’s an institutional trap that might be solved by consolidation, but making large vineyards out of these scattered small plots is necessarily costly and difficult.
Under these circumstances growers are likely to hang on to their vines for years rather than accept a modest one-time payment. Grubbing up might need to be forced, not voluntary, to have much effect.
New regulations to allow wines to be labeled according to grape variety (rather than the traditional local geographic designation) might be attractive to a large and distinctly commercial wine producer, but much wine in Europe is still produced by cooperatives that have little to distinguish their wines from others apart form the local designation. What advantage would they have as simple varietals in a world awash with good varietal wine?
A Certain Vision of Wine
It is possible to envision a future where the reforms can work, where the marginal vineyards have gone out of production, where consolidation has increased efficiency and where branded varietals can compete with the world market. (I have even seen some early attempts at EU branded varietals in the discount bins of a local store — more about this in a future posting.) I think it is possible that this vision may be realized — eventually.
But oh, it is such a big jump. The institutions of the small family vineyard and the local wine cooperative seem to me to make these reforms much more difficult. New Zealand’s success will be difficult to repeat.

Vahe and Aimee Keushguerian (shown here in a still from the film) are part of the returning Armenian diaspora who seek to preserve Armenia’s wine history and create its future. The story of what they do in Armenia, why they do it, and what it means to them and to others, is at the heart of the film.
Cup of Salvation works for many reasons. First, it is beautifully filmed and that is always a good thing. The story is strong, too, especially the Iranian connection. But it is the characters that dominate the film, Vahe and Aimee Keushguerian most of all, but also Iranian-American winemaker Moe Momtazi and his daughter Naseem.
Sue and I find that we are having second thoughts about Pinot Grigio. And that’s a good thing.
Then we started tasting Friulian Pinot Grigio wines made in the traditional copper-color Ramato style, which someone described as somewhere between Rosé and an Orange wine. These wines were recognizably still Pinot Grigio but taken in a different direction. How interesting.
Sue was prowling the wine wall at the Proctor
Over in Beer World, the NA (non-alcoholic) category is booming. Sales by market leader Athletic Brewing Company continue to grow while more and more other brands introduce NA products. There is a lot of interest in NA here in Wine World, too. The most-read single Wine Economist article of this year so far is an essay on
The wines from Asti — still Moscato d’Asti DOCG and sparkling Asti DOCG (aka Asti Spumante) — must be included on the list of OG LA wines here in the U.S. market and around the world, too. The abv for Moscato d’Asti DOCG hovers around 4.5 percent, considerably lower than most white wines, and Asti DOCG is a bit higher but still relatively low at 7.5 percent. Residual sugar levels are higher because the wines are not fermented dry, of course, but the best of these highly aromatic wines achieve good balance with higher acidity, although I admit I have sampled a few over the years that were unbalanced on the sweet side for my taste.
Who drinks the LA wines of the Asti region? Judging by the ready availability of the wines, I would say that the market is quite large here in the United States. Costco regularly features its own Kirkland Signature brand of Moscato d’Asti, for example, in addition to other labels of this wine.
The sales pattern is very different for still Moscato d’Asti DOCG. The U.S. market is by far the most important followed by Italy, Greece, South Korea, and Switzerland. No wonder these wines are so easy to find on U.S. store shelves. U.S. consumers drink about two of every three bottles sold in the world! Amazing.
We often talk about trends and problems in the wine industry, but I think we all know that wine isn’t a single business about which it is easy to generalize. Different countries or regions have different business characteristics, for example, and making and selling multi-million case brands like Gallo’s Barefoot differs greatly from much smaller and more local operations.
I recently discussed some of these wine economics themes and more with
The Portuguese translation of my 2018 book
Authors don’t get rich from translation rights, but it’s exciting to see the new edition because it promises to expand the global audience for my book. Brazil and Portugal are important wine-producing and consuming countries and the Portuguese-speaking world is, well, worldwide. It seems like I find Portuguese and Brazilian influence wherever I go. Europe, Africa, Asia, the Americas, everywhere!
These are challenging times for many (but not all) consumers. Rising housing and interest costs are squeezing budgets. Pandemic-era stimulus check bank balances are going or gone. Student loan payments, paused for a time, are back again.

Collio DOC, which hugs the Slovenian border in north-east Italy, has long been known for its excellent wines and it is home to many strong private wine brands. Sue and I visited
More recently there has been an effort to promote a trademark Collio wine bottle shape, which is also shown in the photo above. The distinctive bottle actually requires a special cork to seal it properly. Adopting it is a serious decision from a practical standpoint.
[This is the second in a series of articles inspired by our recent visit to Collio DOC in north-east Italy. 
Sue and I keep returning to Collio because offers so much that we enjoy and appreciate in terms of food, wine, culture, and nature. It seems to us that Collio today is doubling down on the “Collio Experience” and not just the wine. That was the case at Collio & the Beach and Castello di Spessa. And the experience especially stood out at
Collio DOC is a tiny appellation snuggled up against the Slovenian border in north-east Italy. It is a beautiful place. How beautiful? After our recent visit to the region, I noticed that Sue changed her computer’s desktop image to a photo of these hills. Collio replaced another beautiful vineyard area, Cartizze, on the screen, which last year replaced a photo of the Douro Valley. The competition for real estate on Sue’s desktop is fierce. Collio is that beautiful.
For this trip we explored all of the white wines, including also Pinot Grigio and Malvasia, in blind tastings led by the talented wine writer and Friuli wine expert Richard Baudains. One thing that stood out from the tastings, winemaker meetings, and winery visits, in addition to the overall excellence of the wines, was the rapid pace of change in the post-covid era. We found a lot to consider. A quick list includes: