No Bright Line

It may have been France’s Master of Wine Isabelle Legeron who, in an attempt to provide a short, easily-grasped phrase that captured the essence of natural wine described it as “wine with nothing added and nothing taken away.”  I can’t be dead certain of the ascription, but I like it and have found it useful when asked, as I frequently am, just what naturalism in wine amounts to.
Like all catchphrases, it cuts short what would otherwise be a lengthier and likely more convoluted explanation. It’s pithy, memorable and gets you going in the right direction. But it’s a high-contrast snapshot that, for all its worth, can’t do justice to the many shades of theory and practice that are actually involved. In the making of wine, what does adding nothing and taking nothing away really mean?

More than 50 additives are permitted for use in wine production in the US and the EU. I think it fair to say that in most cases, these exist to either remediate some weakness in the quality of the fruit used, to correct something that went wrong in the fermentation vat, or to hurry along a process that would otherwise take longer than is convenient and add costs.
Wine made at scale with cheap fruit will be most dependent on additions, and on the technical manipulations that normally accompany them — necessary perhaps to make something palatable, consistent and affordable for a mass audience out of dodgy raw material. It seems clear that no definition of ‘naturalness’ applies under these conditions.
Picture a pyramid whose wide base represents both wine of this sort and its overwhelming share of world production. Let its apex represent the purest possible form of natural wine, with nothing added, nothing taken away and only the minimum of human intervention necessary to see the conversion of fresh fruit to a fermented beverage through. It will be a relatively tiny triangle consistent with its small share of overall production and sales.
What’s missing from this infographic is the large and important area created as the pyramid gradually narrows, rising toward the apex but not yet attaining it. It’s fair to say that a great deal of worthy wine occupies this space at all price points. Where, then, shall we locate the line that separates the natural from the otherwise? Unless you’re willing to become an insufferable purist, it’s not going to be easy to say.
What is often left out of the conversation is the fact that natural wine production is far from natural in the sense of being merely spontaneous and intuitive. On the contrary, winemakers seeking to ascend our notional pyramid face an arduous and time-consuming challenge. Ripe, healthy fruit will likely be a first priority, so vineyard practices will need upgrading, including what choices are available for sustainable pest and disease management, nemeses that have no respect for mere good intentions.
In the cellar, native rather than cultured yeasts will become responsible for completing fermentations. It can take years for ambient populations to be up to the task and capable of muscling out competing microflora that can spoil wine. Often, the goal of achieving ever lower (or zero) additions of sulfur dioxide will be elusive, dependent not on a single silver bullet solution, but a serious of small steps that incrementally approach the goal. Vintage variation will always be a wild card in the deck, especially in our current environment. Considering all this, a modicum of charity is always in order.
How then to state our position as to what qualifies as natural wine today?  Our view is that, as in most things, the pursuit of the ideal may be laudable, but is by its nature aspirational. It’s the main reason we prefer to speak of wine made in a naturalist way, rather than as natural wine, per se.  What we’re really looking for is less a morally spotless naturalism than healthy, place-distinctive, drinkable wine made by folks working in a setting more like a farm than a factory and engaged in a good faith effort to produce it in a responsible, financially-sustainable, no funny-business way.
One day, maybe all wine will be made like this. Until it is, we’ll just keep our clothes on, thank you.