Image stolen from Two Friars & A Fool,
a blog by a US Presbyterian minister
with whom I reckon - as a confirmed agnostic -
I could enjoy a good conversation.
“The pursuit of excellence…”, “giving it
your upmost”, “striving for perfection”…
All unarguably admirable idealistic mission statements,
but how often are they really relevant in the real world? Even the most cursory thought would
reveal that there are all sorts of products and services we encounter every day
which patently don’t – and can’t – live up to these ideals. The experience you
get in the back of an airplane must, by definition, be less ‘excellent’ than
the one in Business Class. Otherwise there would be no point in paying the
supplement to sit in those more hallowed seats. And the same – in spades –
obviously should apply to First Class where 'perfection' is still tempered by a need to maintain profitability..
Do you really imagine that Apple gives us
everything it possibly can when it releases the top model of its latest iPhone?
Of course not. Back in the company labs in Cupertino, there are engineers who
already know what the model after next will be able to do; what they are
offering us now is something that is good enough to dazzle potential consumers
and cast a shadow over the competition.
Winemakers may strive for excellence but
all too often they fall short and end up producing something that’s ‘remarkably
good for the vintage’ – the best they
can manage after a season beset with untimely drought or flood. Even when they
are blessed by more ideal conditions, who’s to provide the definition of
‘excellence’. I have a friend in Southern France who was happy to have produced
a Parker 90+ wine which, unsurprisingly, sold more easily and at a higher price than
her other cuvée which the US critic had only thought worth 87, but she rated
more highly. Was she expected to choose
which of these two quite different ‘excellences’ she should make in the
following vintages? Or was she to go on making both? And if excellence is debatable, perfection is, by its very nature, well-nigh unattainable
There are plenty of authors whose quest for (their notion of) perfection leads to writer's block and/or an unwillingness to expose their words to the world. And inventors who miss the boat. It was Voltaire who coined the phrase "Perfect is the enemy of good": better to give your guests something - anything - to eat than to leave them starving while you struggle with an intractable recipe. (This Forbes piece by Victor Lipman is worth reading about overcoming excessive perfectionism in business)
The words ‘fit for purpose’ have a much
less inspiring ring than references to excellence and perfection, but I admire
their honesty. The purpose of the brown paper bag familiar to food shoppers in
New York is very different to the purpose of a $10,000 Hermes handbag, but both
have to live up to the expectations of the person carrying them. I find the
expression helpful when considering wines like White Zinfandel, Pinot Grigio
and Moscato that regularly attract the disdain of opinion formers. Critics
approach these styles – at professional tastings - with the same set of
analytical tools as they would apply to a premier cru Burgundy. And not surprisingly
they find them wanting. It’s as though a Michelin inspector had been let loose
on a sandwich. Saying that a commercial Pinot Grigio does not taste of very
much is like complaining about the unsophisticated humour in a comedy movie
aimed at teenagers. And if high volume Pinot Grigio producers gave their wine the flavour the critics call for, there's a very high chance that many of the millions of PG drinkers in bars across the globe would simply switch to a more neutral alternative - because that's the kind of stuff they're looking for to quaff mindlessly while focusing on the far more important business of gossip.
But just as it applies to Hermes handbags,
‘fit for purpose’ also applies to wines at the highest levels. Am I really
alone in thinking that wines like the extravagantly-priced 2013 Bordeaux whose
cellaring potential is acknowledged to be limited, actually fail the test that a
cheap Pinot Grigio passes with flying colours? They don’t do what their most
likely customers reasonably expect of them.
Excellent - sorry, I mean, fit for purpose piece, Robert!
ReplyDeleteYou could say that if the requirements are correct then fit for purpose means the requirements are met. In my mind excellence and perfection equate more to quality (of design, service, production, after sales service......).
ReplyDeleteHow does this relate to wine? In the case of the Southern France producer then I guess some decisions need to be made on the impact of requirements (style for a price point) the Parker effect should have. For a commercial Pinot Grigio I bet consistency in all aspects (volume, prices, on-time, same year in year out) is most important. Champagne probably has some similarities.
Perhaps perfection and an artisan product is really an oxymoron.