Abstract
Do you remember the first time you drank tequila? Probably not. I don’t. Neither does Sarah Bowen. It was most likely a cheap, industrially manufactured “mixto,” or a tequila that has been mixed with sweeteners, or in a frozen margarita. Until recently, most of the tequilas Americans drank were mixtos. Few know the history behind how that bottle got on the shelf with the label “tequila,” or how tequila became a world-famous “Mexican” spirit. Fewer know about the debates over the making and marketing of mezcal (tequila : mezcal :: Champagne : sparkling white wine), which is currently having its moment in the spirits world as a more “authentic” product than tequila. In Divided Spirits, Bowen uses the agave-based spirits of tequila and mezcal as a case to investigate the politics of food and beverage production in a global marketplace and a neoliberal era and, most importantly, their impact on the farmers and small producers who make these products possible.
Food and beverage, which are becoming increasingly popular topics for sociological research, are excellent empirical loci for examining the complex processes of globalization and neoliberalism. As spirits with an unparalleled connection to their base ingredient (the agave plant), tequila and mezcal are perfect examples of how local and traditional forms of agriculture and manufacturing are being transformed and influenced by intertwined national policies, global forces, and multinational corporations.
Bowen identifies the “denomination of origin” (DO) as the chief policy influencing the tequila and mezcal industries. DOs, which national governments create and international governments honor through trade agreements, give particular regions within countries the right to label a certain food or drink produced in that geographic area as such, while also standardizing and enforcing rules for how this product must be produced (i.e., “quality standards”). Central to DOs is the notion of “terroir,” or the idea that a place’s unique environmental (soil, weather, topography) and cultural (production methods) aspects “are translated into the foods and drinks produced there” (p.7). Today DOs have become tools against the dangers of homogenization posed by globalization while giving countries and local industries competitive advantage in the global marketplace. The idea of terroir also dovetails nicely with foodie consumer culture, which emphasizes small-scale, “authentically made” products over mass-produced ones.
Bowen discusses and often returns to the case of Comté cheese, often hailed as a DO success story. In the 1970s the French government began pushing policies of industrialization in agriculture to increase efficiency across food production sectors. The collective organization that protects Comté cheese responded by adding rules to the DO, such as by prohibiting the use of corn silage in the cows’ feed, limiting the distance between the cows and the cheesemakers, and creating a minimum size of pasture for cows. These rules made it impossible for big businesses to foster economies of scale. Instead, the rules increased the number of small farmers and producers, distributed revenue among them more evenly, and broadened the range of Comté varieties on the market. Bowen cites research suggesting that DOs (for the most part) benefit farmers, rural regions, and the environment, while granting DO-related institutions a stronger political voice and economic clout. But regardless of whether or not they are successful for local producers, national governments act as if they are viable policies of rural development and protections for local producers and their cultural heritage.
At its crux, Divided Spirits tries to explain what happens when developing countries create DOs. Or, what happens to small, vulnerable producers in these countries when the idea of terroir becomes highly valuable in the global marketplace? Since tequila is the first non-European product with a DO (est. 1974) and has a global reputation, developing countries wanting to market their own “authentic” products often turn to Mexico as a model. But as Bowen shows, the DOs for tequila and mezcal have been far less beneficial for protecting the industries’ small actors and traditional production methods: “the institutions that regulate tequila and mezcal adopt a narrow and technical understanding of quality, one that maximizes economic efficiency and meeting the standards required for export markets” (p.4).
A key set of rules common to other DOs but missing from tequila’s quality standards concerns the actual methods of production. These human, cultural factors that make a product unique are usually clearly spelled out in the rules. Not for tequila. Aiming for efficiency, the wealthiest tequila businesses, which are now owned by multinational corporations, have been incorporating industrial methods and adulteration techniques into the industry’s quality standards since even before the DO was created. By not establishing rules for how tequila must be made, such as the farming and cooking techniques or the type of stills that must be used, the DO maintained the possibility of mass production. Meanwhile, the Mexican government has been deregulating its economy to encourage foreign investment. As a result, large multinational companies dominate the industry, brands employ highly scientific and expensive production techniques, and tequilas increasingly have similar flavor profiles. Mexico’s handmade, authentic spirit is hardly Mexican, handmade, or authentic at all.
Chapter Four is the book’s moral center and emotional heart. After providing the history of tequila and mezcal and examining the politics behind their DOs, Bowen explores the everyday conditions agave farmers and “jimadors” (the actual farmhands) face from their own perspective. After visiting with corporate bigwigs in their glitzy offices, she takes us an hour outside of Guadalajara to Amatitán, a small town near where the first tequila distilleries likely originated. For the poor agave farmers of Amatitán, tequila is an identity, a source of immense pride, and an integral part of their economy. The “trickle-down effect” of deregulation and free trade is the most basic claim of neoliberal policies. But as Bowen shows, for these farmers, even during tequila’s recent boom years, it hasn’t happened. A key reason is the social factors behind “natural” agave gluts and shortages. Farming agave takes a remarkably long time. The agave variety tequila must be made from takes six to eight years to reach maturity, making it difficult to coordinate supply and demand, and it is vulnerable to insect infestation and disease. During agave shortages, tequila companies have ignored the traditional practices of small farmers in favor of technical and business solutions such as increasing pesticide use, maintaining monoculture, and cutting out small farmers entirely by directly controlling their own agave supply. Meanwhile, the Mexican government has done nothing to support small farmers. As a result of these unstable conditions, the price of agave is sometimes worth less than the cost of production, which means small farmers can be left with acres of worthless agave while many jimadors struggle to find steady work in this low-paying and physically dangerous job. In sum, “The process by which the globalization of the tequila industry was achieved has marginalized the agave farmers and workers” (p.95).
If tequila is a lost cause, the story of the mezcal industry, which still features thousands of uncertified, traditional producers and has achieved a degree of success in protecting their DO from corporate influence (with considerable help from influential American retailers, bartenders, and media members), makes Bowen somewhat optimistic about its future. But since the growth and regulation of these industries as well as the movements to challenge them are both market-based examples of neoliberalism, she very reasonably wonders if social justice and the reduction of inequality can be achieved through such a model. Given their reputations as party fuel for American college students and obscure concoctions from rural Mexico, the production and distribution of tequila and mezcal form an unusual, but highly illuminating, case for seeing and understanding globalization and neoliberalism. And in this book Bowen convincingly shows the dangers of protecting local products and people in developing countries with market-based models.