From Bali’s Beaches to a Global Movement
Anand Raj
Climate Enthusiast September 05
Here's news that will make you need a drink: Climate change is systematically destroying the wine industry, and global wine production just hit its lowest levels since 1961. Seventy percent of the world's winemaking regions could become unsuitable for growing wine grapes if temperatures exceed 2°C above pre-industrial levels, which we're racing toward faster than a sommelier chasing the last bottle of vintage Bordeaux.
French vineyards are now starting their harvests 10-15 days earlier than they did 40 years ago, with some regions beginning in August instead of the traditional September-October season. Wine production fell to 226 million hectolitres in 2024 - a 63-year low - due to frost, heavy rains, and drought that ravaged vineyards worldwide.
Up to 90% of winemaking regions in Greece, Italy, Southern California, and Spain could disappear by century's end. So basically, we're not just facing climate catastrophe - we are facing it stone-cold sober because we accidentally eliminated most of our coping mechanisms.
I am systematically murdering wine regions before I have even developed a proper palate. My lifestyle is committing viticultural genocide while I am still at the "this one tastes like grapes" level of wine appreciation.
Here I am, a climate criminal with the sophisticated wine knowledge of a college freshman, accidentally eliminating centuries of terroir refinement. I drive my emissions-spewing car to buy bottles I can barely distinguish from each other, contributing to the atmospheric conditions that will ensure future generations never get to taste what I'm too unsophisticated to properly appreciate.
Every time I blast the AC or take unnecessary flights, I am essentially voting to eliminate wine regions before I have learned what "notes of blackcurrant with hints of oak" actually means. I'm destroying agricultural poetry while still reading at a "red wine good, white wine also good" comprehension level.
It's like burning down the Louvre before learning to distinguish between Monet and Manet, except instead of just destroying art, I am eliminating the very conditions that created it. My carbon footprint is erasing wine heritage faster than I can develop the taste buds to understand what I am losing.
Let's examine this beautiful catastrophe where Mother Nature is apparently tired of our drinking problem and has decided to stage an intervention:
The Heat Death of Terroir: Grapevines are surprisingly adaptable plants that have survived for millennia, but we've managed to push global temperatures faster than they can evolve. Regions that spent centuries perfecting their wine-making techniques now face conditions their vines have never encountered. Argentina's malbec, California's cabernet sauvignon, France's merlot - all potentially becoming historical footnotes.
The Early Harvest Panic: French vineyards starting harvest in August instead of September sounds minor until you realise it represents a fundamental disruption of agricultural cycles refined over centuries. Wine grapes are ripening so fast that harvest workers are probably getting heat stroke picking grapes that are cooking on the vine.
The Economic Wine-pocalypse: Global wine consumption fell 3.3% to its lowest level since 1961, partly due to climate - related production crashes. We're witnessing the commodification of scarcity - wine prices rising as availability plummets while the conditions that create good wine systematically disappear.
The Adaptation Paradox: Winemakers are trying heroic measures: moving vineyards to higher altitudes, installing shade systems, developing drought-resistant varietals. It's like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic, except the deck chairs are grapevines and the iceberg is our entire energy system.
The Geographic Wine Lottery: Some northern regions might benefit temporarily as they become newly suitable for viticulture, while traditional wine regions become agricultural wastelands. Scotland might start producing wine while Tuscany becomes too hot for grapes. It's planetary musical chairs with terroir.
Since we're apparently committed to drinking our way through climate collapse while simultaneously eliminating the alcohol supply, here are some adaptation strategies:
Step 1: Rebrand climate change as "aggressive terroir enhancement" and charge premium prices for "extinction vintage" wines.
Step 2: Start investing in Arctic real estate for future vineyard development. "Greenland Pinot Grigio" has a nice ring to it.
Step 3: Develop climate-resistant wine alternatives. "Introducing our new line of fermented air pollution—it pairs beautifully with despair."
Step 4: Accept that we'll be facing civilizational collapse with nothing stronger than kombucha to ease the transition.
Don't "save the wine industry"—just start making the connection between your energy choices and your drinking options explicit. Every climate-conscious decision is a vote for preserving the conditions that make good wine possible.
Email wineries asking about their climate adaptation strategies. How are they preparing for temperature increases? What's their backup plan when their region becomes unsuitable for viticulture? Post their responses—watching the wine industry grapple with existential climate threats is darkly entertaining.
Support winemakers who are actively transitioning to sustainable practices, even if it means paying more for bottles. Consider it insurance for future availability of liquid consolation.
Pro tip: Start a wine cellar focused on "last vintage" bottles from regions that might not produce wine much longer. Future collectors will pay premium prices for extinct terroir, assuming there's still a functioning economy to support luxury markets.
Because if we're going to accidentally eliminate one of humanity's oldest and most beloved agricultural traditions, the least we can do is appreciate what we're losing while we still can.
The ultimate sommelier recommendation: Pair your climate anxiety with wines from disappearing regions, and savor the irony that our industrial civilization might be remembered as the brief period when humans simultaneously perfected winemaking and made it impossible to continue.
Sources: Nature Reviews Earth and Environment study on climate threats to viticulture; International Organisation of Vine and Wine (OIV) production data; Euronews coverage of early French harvests; multiple reports on record-low global wine production.
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