Civilization of Beer
by Samuel Merritt
Posted: July 12, 2007
The first goal of Civilization of Beer is to close the gap between wine studies and beer studies in the professional culinary community, and return beer to its proper place at the American table. The culinary professional division of my company tidily meets this goal and is my bread and butter.
The gravy on the side is the public, private, and corporate events division which meets the second goal of the company by providing educational and entertaining materials, beers, resources, and event services to the private and corporate sectors for a profit. Naturally, this division sees some action, and it, too, can be fun.
In my seminars for culinary professionals, the students place a great deal of value on learning, and are very open minded about all beers simply because there is money at stake. The better they understand the big picture of the beer market and how it works, the more they stand to make in their endeavors. For example, there is a reason Bud Light has over half the market share in the US; my students want to know why.
However, when the private and corporate sectors hire me and attend tutored beer tasting events, their motivations often have little to do with learning and understanding, and a lot to do with who knows more than whom, and which beer is “better” than the next. At these functions, I’ve even had people apologize to me for beers they’ve enjoyed before I came around to enlighten them. Mind you, this is before the tasting even begins. They assume that because I know about this stuff, I’m already a snob. Please. I’m not that guy. I’ll just as happily drink a Miller Hi Life or a Pabst Blue Ribbon as I will a vintage Chimay Grand Reserve or Westmalle Tripel. It’s not what is better; it’s what I want.
This pattern of exclusionary behavior in the culture of wine and beer involves selfish egotism and the use of knowledge as a status symbol. It also explains how passion for a varietal product with a history can turn into plain-old, ugly snobbery.
Yes, the beer snobs have arrived, and they’re ready to judge you for what you drink. They’re just as bad as wine snobs, although they might be worse because they have more time on their hands, and they think they possess a passion for what they do. What do they do? Drink beer and show off that they know something about it. Once, they were regular beer drinkers, and probably pretty bored drinking regular beers before the market changed. Now, they’re sitting in apartments, unclothed and unwashed, blogging away, ranting about the virtues of craft and small beers vs. non-craft and big beers, and writing online reviews of beers no one will ever read. All the while, they’re feeling involved, and a part of some revolution, some sort of movement. Well, the fight for civil rights was a movement. Environmental sustainability is a movement. Appreciating beer is just a nice part of living a good life, and if you make your own without selling it, it’s a hobby at best. Get over it.
To the beer snobs I say this: Great, you’re involved. Buy the beer you want, enjoy what you enjoy. Get out of the house and go for a walk, find a girl who will put up with you, do some volunteer work. But, when you do leave the house, I don’t want you bringing your snobbery to my events or, worse, to the bar where I’m hanging out feeling like the king of the world.
The bars and taverns in this country serve a special purpose. They’re gathering places for people to enjoy each other’s company outside of home or work. They’re great places for the free exchange of thoughts, beliefs and opinions. Judgment of others and what they do hath no place in this most democratic of establishments. Check your righteous opinions at the door please. I don’t want to hear it.
I have my own opinions about what I like, and I also know how to keep them to myself. I try to allow others to enjoy what they like. I do, however carry a small but finely balanced chip on my shoulder. With my chip, I’ve begun, on occasion, to order a very cheaply made, mass-produced beer when I sense that a beer snob is close by. I do it just to see the manner with which they judge me for what I drink. I fear it won’t be long until I take my empty cheap beer bottle and smash it across some poor beer snob’s skull, and promptly toss them on the sidewalk like the proverbial sack of manure.
Beware beer snobs; you’re ruining it for everyone else. I am Civilization of Beer and I’m looking for you. Am I a crusader? No, I’m an educator, and I respect the world’s first prepared food that took us from the Paleolithic Era into the Neolithic revolution. That’s all. Drink what you want. I won’t bug you about it. I promise.
If you judge people, you have no time to love them - Mother Teresa
Copyright © 2007 Samuel Merritt