Further Thoughts on Brewery Lifecycles
We need to talk about legendary breweries. A few weeks back, as a sort of tossed-off riff on the Stone sale, I briefly discussed brewery life cycles in considering Stone’s trajectory. They were in the midst of an awkward stage, I argued, and the sale was that phase’s resolution. Subsequent discussion refined my thinking, as did a podcast chat I had with Patrick.
The lifecycle talk was sparked by an American brewery in the craft era and was good as far as it went. The further discussion revolved around outliers to the theory, and that’s always a good sign the basic mental framework is sound. But what about very old breweries, the Urquells, Guinnesses, and Spatens? Is “legend” a category of the lifecycle or another outlier? And if it is a part of the lifecycle, is it a stable, final stage or just another phase like all the others? (Spoiler alert: I’m not sure.)
Let’s review the stages again. Recall that these describe a successful brewery’s evolution—success being defined as a long run with critical and commercial accomplishments.
Honeymoon period. The months following a brewery’s launch when people come with open minds to see what’s shaking.
Buzz phase [common but far from mandatory for successful breweries]. Whether they’re a niche brewery doing open-fermentation lagers or hazy IPAs and pastry stouts, or a slick place with great branding and a cool hang, for a period of time, these breweries seem like shiny new paragons of cool.
Established phase. Once a brewery has figured things out, good ones enjoy an established phase where people think of them as being reliably excellent. They don’t have the constant buzz anymore, but they have loyalty and respect. Growth seems automatic and effortless.
Awkward phase. When long-established breweries see sales stall or decline, it often sparks a period of flailing. Some breweries may suffer declining quality or a lack of the kind of invention that marked earlier stages. They may get awkward in the way dads do—using slang (or marketing pushes) that are cringey. Maybe they don’t even shift what they’re doing much, but their relevance slides and they don’t seem to have an answer. It happens to cool little breweries and big breweries alike.
Death, sale, or revival. Breweries can weather the awkward phase, but it’s a dangerous point. Some breweries illustrate how to do this well: Sierra Nevada and New Belgium jump out. Others, like Ommegang haven’t or didn’t figure it out.
[Theoretical] Legend. Achieved not just through longevity, but the iconic status of the beer, which may be the standard of the style or its originator, or a classic practitioner of a particular type of brewing.
I think we can agree legendary beers exist. I’m thinking of Saison Dupont and Jever and U Fleků’s dark lager. These are the kind of beers I’ve been slowly profiling in my “Making of a Classic” series. Are breweries identical to their legendary beers? That one’s harder to answer.
It’s not enough for a brewery to be old, for sure. Three years back I visited the gorgeous Flanders brewery Roman, one of the most historic and beautiful in Belgium. Can you name a beer they make? And it’s quite possible that age, at least really old age, is not necessary. Could anyone really argue that Sierra Nevada Pale isn’t a legendary beer? Finally, there’s the curious case of breweries that change. This is common in the UK. Fuller’s only started making their slate of pale parti-gyled ales a half-century ago. Before that they made other, forgotten stuff. How does that confound matters?
I’m especially interested in whether legend is a final stage, a beery transcendence that can’t be revoked once achieved. No doubt death visits legendary breweries. Many breweries in this category are small and privately-owned. They stand on the shoulders of fashion and family, and they wink out all the time. Even size is no protection—think of the carnage that visited the big breweries of London in the 20th century. But can a brewery become a legend and then survive while backsliding into something un-legendary?
I think maybe. I foreshadowed my speculation above when I cited Spaten. No brewery is more important in the evolution of German lager-brewing, and they still remain an august member of the Oktoberfest Six. Yet their beer is little-celebrated. They may have brewed the first helles, but no one describes it as a standard of the style anymore (as people do cross-town rival Augustiner). It’s an old name, and a century ago we would have called it legendary. But today?
I’m pretty sure we have to include legend as a part of the lifecycle, but I’m not sure how to define it or how to determine if a brewery qualifies. In some cases it’s obvious, but in others far less so. Perhaps it’s just a matter of applying the Potter Stewart criteria.
I welcome your thoughts on the matter.