Where’s our BrewDog moment?: What independent bottlers can learn from the meteoric rise of craft beer.

Up until the point that the liquid is either distilled or brewed, the process of making whisky and beer is very similar. As such, it’s unsurprising that whisky and beer have been comfortable bedfellows for quite some time.

And in recent years, that relationship has gone even further.

Brewers are finishing their beers in ex-whisky casks for strong beers with vanilla and oaky flavours, while distillers are using beer as a base product and independent bottlers are aging their whisky in ex-beer barrels for whiskies with butterscotch and coffee notes. (If you’re looking to try an ale-cask independent bottling, we highly recommend Alexander Murray & Firestone Walker’s Polly’s Casks Double Barrel Aged Single Malt Scotch Whisky.)

But butterscotch and coffee notes are not the only thing that the whisky industry can take from the beer industry. Whisky distillers – and independent bottlers in particular – can learn a lot from the recent success of craft beer.

The rise of craft beer: a quick recap

For those of you not partial to whisky’s hoppy cousin or aware of its recent meteoric rise, here’s a whistlestop overview of the recent craft beer trend.

In the mid-seventies, cask ale – once the lifeblood of the UK’s workforce and economy – had all but disappeared from pubs.

Tradition ales had been replaced by cheap bitters and lagers. Just in time, Camra popped up to save the British ale industry, but not before it had been relegated to a niche interest for men with beards and pewter tankards.

On the whole, ale remained a niche interest until the early 2000s, when Gordon Brown introduced the Progressive Beer Duty, a tax break for small brewers that produced less than 3 million litres of beer a year.

Unsurprisingly, small brewers and microbreweries started popping up everywhere. They started brewing cask ales in traditional ways, but pretty soon they began to experiment.

They imported hops from abroad. They dug out old, long-forgotten recipes and techniques. And they brewed new, complex ales.

Demand soared.

Spearheaded by the success of breweries like BrewDog, Camden Town and Meantime, craft beer started appearing in pubs and supermarket shelves across the UK.

In fact, there’s over 1400 breweries in the UK now.

And, Camra’s membership has more than doubled.

Over the past decade, the stereotype of an ale drinker has gone from middle-aged, bearded man with his tankard to – well – twentysomething bearded men and women (the women are beardless, of course) with tankards.

What does all of this have to do with whisky?

Good question.

The success of craft beer is a phenomenon born from a perfect storm of recession, tax breaks, hipsterism and – most importantly – a trend toward artisanal products and authenticity.

In Shortlist’s detailed overview of the craft beer trend, they observe that ‘craft beer isn’t necessarily finished once it’s brewed – the big trend at the moment is ageing beer in wood, adding further layers of character and complexity.’

Sound familiar?

The similarities between craft beer and whisky don’t stop there. From the creation process to the flavours and target audience, there are plenty of similarities that make the lessons of craft beer’s success applicable to the independent bottlers.

A matter of perception

As we’ve already mentioned, before the success of BrewDog and the craft beer trend, ale was suffering from a little bit of an image problem.

Camra may have been the only thing that stood between ale and extinction in the UK, but it was also responsible for changing its image. It laid down strict rules about what could (and could not) be considered a real ale:

Real ale is a beer brewed from traditional ingredients (malted barley, hops water and yeast), matured by secondary fermentation in the container from which it is dispensed, and served without the use of extraneous carbon dioxide.
Brewers use ingredients which are fresh and natural, resulting in a drink which tastes natural and full of flavour. It is literally living as it continues to ferment in the cask in your local pub, developing its flavour as it matures ready to be poured into your glass.

As a result, real ale and craft beer became associated with an image of hoary, bearded men sitting around with notepads. Instead of being a fun pastime for everyone, drinking ale and craft beer now came with an intimidating sense of exclusivity that was impenetrable and off-putting for the regular drinker.

Until BrewDog came along.

When it came to launching their own products, the brewers at Brewdog decided to be damned with Camra’s purism. Instead, they looked to the anything-goes attitude of craft brewers across the pond. They brewed with exotic ingredients and turned to cool designs, stunt marketing and social media savvy to promote their products.

Their products became emblematic of the global shift towards artisanal products, anti-establishment attitudes and authenticity – and these attitudes were apparent in everything they did, from the beers themselves to their names (Punk IPA, Nanny State, Vagabond) to their marketing stunts (selling £700 bottles of beer in taxidermy animals, for example) and their social media output.

The message was clear. These weren’t weak, cheap, mass-produced lagers: they are the product of authentic flavours, an artisan approach and a ‘do-it-yourself’ attitude.

And this attitude and approach chimed with a target audience that had become disillusioned with the cold, weak and fizzy lagers on tap in pubs.

What can independent bottlers learn from this?

In short, a lot.

There are so many similarities between craft beer and independent bottling that it’s more than a little surprising that independent bottling remains such a niche interest.

And, sadly, a lot of that is down to an image problem around whisky. (This is especially the case when it comes to Scotch.)

If we force the craft beer/whisky analogy, then whisky drinking is still stuck in the Camra era.

Sure, there are younger whisky drinkers out there (yours truly, for example) but on the whole, whisky is seen as a middle-aged man’s drink.

Crucially, the world of whisky still has an intimidating sense of exclusivity that seems impenetrable and off-putting for the regular drinker, much like ale had a decade or so ago.

Like ale before it, whisky drinking is still treated and seen as a niche, exclusive and purist hobby. From the outside, it’s an intimidating craft that you have to learn – it’s not something you can easily enjoy. And, for the casual drinker, that’s a little off putting.

The wasted potential of independent bottlings

The real shame is, independent bottlings have everything that the new generation of alcohol drinkers look for in a product:

They’re produced by small, artisanal bottlers who take a great deal of pride and care in their work.

They’re authentic – bottled at cask strength without chill filtration, added colouring or dilution.

And – most importantly for the image – they’re anti-establishment. Independent bottlers are doing exciting things with their whiskies and selling small batches of unique, individual and once-in-a-lifetime whisky. They’re not mass producing whisky and diluting it or adding things to enhance profit margins.

All they need is a little push in the right direction. A signal flare to a whole new audience of whisky drinkers unaware of the malty delights on offer.

The solution?

Although it’s a bit of a dirty word, the answer is simple: marketing.

Toe-to-toe, there’s nothing to split craft beer and independent bottlings in terms of quality, complexity or authenticity.

The difference is how they present themselves to their audience.

As an example, here’s a description for BrewDog’s Punk IPA, its flagship craft beer:

Back in 2007 the UK beer scene was at a dead end. Dominated by monoliths and drowned in mass produced lager, Punk offered salvation for those in the know and hope for the rest of us.
Punk created a storm in a bottle – literally. An American classic re-tuned in Scotland. An encapsulation of our youthful punk spirit in every glass. This is the beer that helped kick-start the revolution. Spawning a new wave of craft beerf breweries across the UK and a tidal wave of better beer. Punk was year zero for Craft. From that day, it has trail-blazed its way from Craft subculture to the High Street. Spreading the word and the revolution.
This light, golden classic has been subverted with new world hops to create a devastating explosion of flavour.
At BrewDog we brew uncompromising, bold and irreverent beer. Beer with a soul and a purpose. It’s the only thing we know. It’s the only thing we want to know. We have a terminal craziness to make the beers we want to drink.
Our approach is a modern-day rebellion for flavour and choice. A mad last-ditch stand to create beer that actually tastes of something. Beer like it was. Beer like it will be.
Ditch the mainstream and say hello to BrewDog.

Now compare that with this description for Adelphi’s Limerick Slaney 1991:

Very complex on the nose: lemon oils, blackcurrants, sage and rosemary, aniseed and a little eucalyptus. The oils become more machine-like with a little varnished camphor wood, peppered raisins coated in toffee, some hessian and fresh cherries. It remains mentholated throughout.
On the palate, immediately rich, almost Cognac-like, then dessert wines: Muscat and Benedictine. Cough drops, herbal, with sweet chocolate notes, becoming increasingly fragrant.
The finish is surprisingly long, with a definite hint of smoke, and smooth and nutty nougat lingering.

The difference is clear.

BrewDog’s description may be many things – pretentious, irritating and self-aggrandising to name a few – but it’s effective. It tells a story. And it’s inviting, welcoming and – importantly – non-exclusive.

It sells the drinker an experience that promises authenticity, craft and fun.

Adelphi’s product descriptions are quite different. Although helpful, useful and oh-so-enticing to those in the know (people like us), to those out-of-the-know, they only serve to highlight a negative concept of an insular, exclusive world of whisky drinking.

It certainly doesn’t invite casual drinkers to give it a try. To a casual drinker, if a product description is this complex and difficult to wrap their head around, it stands to reason that the whisky will be too.

Most importantly, it doesn’t sell an experience. It doesn’t tell a story.

As a case in point, Jack Daniels is the best-selling whisky in the UK. We don’t need to talk about the merits (or lack thereof) of your average bottle of Jack Daniels. The people buying it aren’t looking for a cereal finish or caramel notes on the palate.

They’re buying it because of its rock and roll image. They’re buying it because their brand tells a story of things done the Jack Daniels way. And because they’re buying an experience and an image, the taste is almost incidental.

The importance of storytelling

Obviously, you need good products but the success of many brands is linked to emotion. A strong story based in reality will bring your message and values to life in a way the consumer can believe in.
John Stapleton, co-founder of The New Covent Garden Soup Co.

Independent bottling has everything going for it. The tastes, the artisanal nature, the craft, the anti-establishment mentality, the do-it-yourself attitude and the authenticity.

It just needs that final push.

Brands like Rest and Be Thankful are producing incredible independent bottlings. And their branding looks authentic, youthful and – for want of a better word – hipster.

But it lacks story.

It is missing that clear narrative that sells something more than a cask number and a lack of chill-filtration. They need a story that sells an authentic experience that goes beyond the different notes and finishes.

And it’s a shame, because independent bottlings are all exciting, innovative and unique.

The bottlers all have their own story to tell; tales of breaking rules and doing things themselves, narratives of authenticity and artisanal approaches and stories that would chime with the same audience currently buying craft beer in mass quantities.

They just need to highlight it.

They need to focus less on the notes of the whisky and more on the experience of the drink.That way, casual drinkers will slowly start to find their way into the world of independent bottlings. And once they’re there, they’ll start to notice the varnished camphor wood and peppered raisins coated in toffee – they just need a gentle push and a welcoming pull in the right direction in the first place.