Bordeaux: The Crisis Laid Bare

BY NEAL MARTIN | JUNE 4, 2025

Bordeaux is facing its biggest crisis since the 1930s.

My first draft sugared the pill. However, after speaking candidly and off the record to people in and outside of Bordeaux, I felt a duty to depict the sheer scale of the calamity the Bordeaux wine industry is up against. A few commentators sporting rose-tinted spectacles recently opined that “it’ll all blow over.”

That is not going to happen.

A couple of winemakers ostensibly admitted that they are losing their raison d’être. All that work to create the best wine that Mother Nature allowed was for what exactly? Another, an international financier, had recently examined the accounts of a well-known château, one of many privately for sale like strays in a dog home. The figures did not add up. The annual losses made it unsellable. A seasoned Bordeaux-based merchant launched into a heartfelt tirade about an industry prone to self-harm, an industry staring into the abyss, before listing the multitude of 2024s that did not sell a single bottle. “It’s certainly been our worst en primeur campaign for over 25 years,” remarked another U.K. merchant. He is not alone in that sentiment.

Despite the tumult, some proprietors still believe that they can get away with a “gesture” reduction. The most worrying aspect is the absence of hope galloping over the horizon. History is telling. After the crisis in the 1930s, most estates did not return to profit until the 1959 vintage, despite hallowed vintages like 1945 and 1953. Of course, the landscape is completely different in 2025, except that the rules of supply and demand remain unchanged. If your wine does not sell, you have no income. The repercussions of what is unfolding right now may take years to resolve, if ever.

Surely, there is a glimmer of hope. There were literally a handful that, against the odds, did manage to sell their 2024s. Step forward Les Carmes Haut-Brion, thanks to a combination of plaudits, price and backstory. Lafite-Rothschild performed best amongst the First Growths, albeit accepting more takers if you want them. Otherwise, telephones never rang and inboxes remained empty. The figures I have seen first-hand make for appalling reading. As unsold cases wash up on châteaux’s once spotless shores, reality might finally hit home, even if the most stubborn denialists cling to the belief that it is a cycle and they just need to ride out the storm. They cannot feel the shift of tectonic plates beneath their feet.

Where did it go wrong?

Perversely, I trace it back to the 2009 campaign, so successful that it skewed expectations, whipped up avarice, instilled feelings of invincibility and encouraged some to pursue easy money. Proprietors rebranded their wines as luxury brands and by extension, investment vehicles that attracted outside investors. Many—though not all—of these speculators had little passion for wine but an insatiable appetite for healthy returns. Subsequently, the once cohesive structure of Bordeaux that bound châteaux, appellations, and organisational bodies together began to fracture. Solipsism spread through the top tiers of the region, concern extending little beyond their vineyard walls. Cooperation faltered. Bordeaux became a bipolar region of excessively wealthy or desperately poor, the gap mercilessly widened by climate change, inequality favouring those with technical means or deep pockets. At the top of the hierarchy, price hikes were predesigned to connote quality and superiority over competitors. Consumers with a genuine passion and loyalty towards Bordeaux wine decried the inflation, lamenting that they could no longer afford their favourite wines. Protests fell on deaf ears or were belittled as “Bordeaux bashing.” The inference was that if a château’s wine was now too expensive, then you were unworthy—go drink something else. That is exactly what consumers did. En masse.

The other disease, apart from greed, was wanton shortsightedness. Prices were set to max out profits for the current vintage instead of nurturing demand and loyalty over the long term. The yardstick of success was measured solely by market value, and price hikes were imposed with an unsavoury “take it or leave it” attitude, chateaux leveraging their position as a quasi-monopoly. After all, “Château Fantastique” can only come from “Château Fantastique.” There was little negotiation so that each could see the business environment of the other side.

Increases were no longer sweetened by reductions in less well-received vintages. If there was an excuse to raise prices, then it was seized. If there was a reason to lower them, it was conveniently forgotten. Luxury does not discount.

In any case, there were egos and shareholder expectations to appease, aside from what in hindsight could be viewed as superfluous outlays. The mantra was “quality at any cost,” whether that was in the vineyard or the bespoke winery designed by a world-renowned architect, predicated on the notion that people will never demur paying more for superior wines, as if there exists no upper limit. In reality, nearly all wine lovers with discerning palates have a maximum price they are willing to pay, irrespective of reputation, points or whether the château installed a swanky, marble-clad tasting room. Arguably, what most investments achieve is improved consistency rather than elevating quality to a higher echelon, which is a debate for another time.

Shortsightedness takes another form. As soon as the newest vintage was sold to négociants, the châteaux considered their job done. Hence, the frequently heard refrain uttered in a self-congratulatory tone: “We sold our entire production in 30 or 60 seconds…”

A fatal error, whether that is naivety or blissful ignorance.

It was a chimera of success.

For châteaux, the idea that their lauded wine might be gathering dust in warehouses was not their problem. That’s simply how the distribution system was set up, a system capsizing under its own inability to achieve its purpose: dispersing wine to end consumers in an efficient, cost-effective fashion so that each tier of distribution can obtain a decent profit. The market became clogged with an ocean of unsold stock, like a petrol car filled with diesel.

Hey, who cares if interest rates are low and that stock is an appreciating asset? Négociants or merchants should be happy, acting like unregulated banks and reaping the profits.

Except most of them began operating on scarcely workable margins. Sometimes a sale would mean a négociant or merchant could break even, occasionally even selling at a loss to curry favour or safeguard next year’s allocations in the hope that the economic headwinds would swing in another direction. It was like a toxic relationship where two lovers cannot be honest with each other. Simultaneously, the wines were vanishing from restaurant lists. Sommeliers became apathetic or hostile towards Bordeaux. Worst of all, an entire generation became disenfranchised and lost their taste and appreciation for Bordeaux. As I said already, people just moved on. I warned of this repeatedly over my career, yet it was always seen as some kind of existential problem.

What underlines the failure of the 2024 primeur campaign specifically?

1.     Most châteaux reduced prices by 20% to 30% against last year. Right direction, though what else in a vintage that was unequivocally not great? Difficult as it might be to swallow, reductions needed to be at least 50% to have any impact on moribund demand. Châteaux might flinch at such a preposterous idea. I suggest examining actual sales first and reflecting on historical price rises that consumers had to swallow. Care to compare?

2.     Exchange rates are a significant factor, especially the weak U.S. dollar. Not Bordeaux’s problem? Yes, it is when your allocation is refused.  

3.     More than one merchant remarked that the main cause for consumer apathy is not actual prices, but the fact that several back vintages are physically available in enormous quantities, eviscerating any motivation to buy primeur. There is no fear of losing out. Even when release prices were dialled back to levels—to quote sales pitches—"not seen since 2013 or 2014,” there is nearly always an alternative vintage within arm’s reach at a similar price. Why risk money on an unfinished wine when there is no need?

4.     When back vintages are available for 20% or 30% LESS than their release prices, again, it completely undermines the primeur system, not least any financial return on buying the latest inconsistent vintage. Vast swathes of consumers who had bought primeur felt swindled by the system. The overpriced 2021 vintage is one that certainly sticks in the craw, especially after Bordeaux had a chance to reset after the well-received 2019 campaign. Then again, most of those wines now sell below their release prices.

5.     Bordeaux is no longer the centre of attention. Burgundy, Piedmont, Champagnek California and numerous up-and-coming countries like South Africa, et al., have all taken a piece of the pie, and with fewer and fewer people drinking alcohol due to lack of disposable income, health awareness, lifestyle changes and strengthening anti-alcohol lobby, that pie is shrinking.

6.     The economic climate. Financial and geopolitical uncertainty, higher interest rates and inflation all dissuade consumers from spending, especially on luxury products. You know it all.

The abject failure of the 2024 campaign has put the Bordeaux industry, not just the châteaux but any enterprise connected with the trade, into a critical condition. It has been there for several years, but many refused to acknowledge it. The scale of the crisis depends on who you are. Part of a billionaire’s portfolio or a cash-rich global conglomerate? Then there is less pressure, and theoretically you can keep calm and carry on. That said, unsold stock is not a good look, damaging the brand and calling business acumen into question.

The five First Growths are buffered by historical and premium status. Even they produce hundreds of barrels each year, barrels that at some point must be sold. Assuming that a significant percentage of buyers are motivated by future returns, then those gains can only be made when the wines are resold, kicking the problem into the long grass. The tiers below? Grand Cru Classés and notable Right Bank estates are very exposed. Irrespective of quality, these estates are not cushioned by First Growth status, nor are they sufficiently inexpensive to attract average buyers who are now far more prudent with cash than they used to be. Trust me, there are some very well-known names wondering how long they can hang on if things continue in this direction, as they surely will. As for the innumerable Petit Châteaux and Cru Bourgeois, many face extinction. The personal trauma and loss of livelihoods will not make front-page news. They will quietly disappear, collateral damage of changing times.

Is there any solution? There is one. It is an exemplar of Occam’s razor. In other words, it’s obvious…

Slash release prices by 50% to 60%. Swallow your pride. Don’t kid yourself that every wine lover equates quality with price—consumers are cleverer than that. Your true followers equate quality with taste and pleasure. They want to drink wine, not make a dime from it. For all those claiming it is out of the question, feel free to publish a breakdown of the unit cost of a bottle of wine. If the Bordelais don’t do it, the market will do it for them in a brutal and ruthless fashion. This is already occuring in the form of under-the-table deals to offload stock and shore up liquidity. Such discounts will ineluctably render back vintages overpriced. Here is the news: They always were. Nothing is going to change that. Again, market forces will sort that out, and it will not be pretty.

But let me give you a microcosm of how the market can work in Bordeaux’s favour. At a couple of dinners, I asked everyone around the table whether they had bought that day’s primeur release.

“No,” they replied in unison. “There is no financial reason.”

Then I began lowering the price like an auction in reverse, and they continued to reply “No”…until I reached a certain figure. It was not just one person who responded affirmatively.

They all did.

There is a tipping point where consumers will take the bait, a release price where buyers would not dribble back, but flood back, even in this economic climate. That equilibrium is seen as totally unacceptable for reasons explained earlier, but essentially it boils down to a loss of face. It would be construed as an admission of failure. The complete antithesis of what all these châteaux’s much-touted investments were designed to achieve. I would counter-argue that price reductions of this scale would be seen as a gesture of goodwill, something Bordeaux needs in order to rebuild its reputation and its bond with wine lovers. It could be a catalyst for restored loyalty. In the long term, Bordeaux might see its wines return to restaurants and dining tables. It might be the spark that reaps long-term rewards. Down the line, proprietors will look back and say it was a tough decision…but it worked.

Because I do not believe this is an economic cycle. The halcyon days of 1982, 2005, 2009 or 2019 are not going to return in the current climate. With each passing primeur, as each unsold vintage is unceremoniously piled onto the last, the situation worsens and becomes less recoverable. The Bordelais must take a sober look at what a bottle of fermented grape juice is worth. The danger is that a significant devaluation would incur a huge write-down in producers’ inventory, and since many estates are financed by banks, this could risk insolvency, not least for négociants holding stock. But if sales remain stagnant, many will quickly run out of liquidity anyway.

The answer lies in what consumers are willing to pay for the wine, not what the château thinks.

Stop the pointless and illogical comparison to Burgundy, a region operating in a completely different economic sphere, albeit one not immune to a similar fate. Be proud of producing high quality and high volumes. No other region does that like Bordeaux. Accept that the law of microeconomics means that higher quantities will always exert downward pressure on market prices. The fact that so many can savour a great Bordeaux is something that should be treasured, much more than the sight of collectors fighting over measly allocations, too often for little more than bragging rights. This requires a completely different mindset from proprietors and winemakers. Whether that can prevail, I am doubtful. This will continue to be Bordeaux’s undoing.

Bypass the Bordeaux Place? I have said it before and will say it again: It works when the price is correct, and it falls apart if the price is wrong. Occam’s razor again. The finger-pointing must stop. Châteaux blaming négociants and négociants blaming châteaux. There are good and bad apples on either side. At the end of the day, everyone works for the same team, something often forgotten during the ongoing internecine war of words.

At Vinous Icons: New York this past February, I remarked to the audience that Bordeaux must get corks popping, lest it becomes a museum for wines that ancestors once enjoyed. The Bordeaux market is salvageable, but the distribution system needs to be fit for purpose. Châteaux must connect with real customers face-to-face and hear their concerns. Maybe the horse has already bolted. All parties involved in the Bordeaux wine industry should have sat around a table in 2012 or 2013 and worked out a long-term strategy. The pretence on all sides should’ve been nipped in the bud long ago. The consequences are now coming to bear. But remember, many consumers still love Bordeaux wines, including yours truly, maybe now more than ever as I savour memories of a double magnum of 1990 Hennebelle last weekend, a modest, cheap-as-chips Haut-Médoc superior to most highfalutin Burgundies made that year. Indeed, in recent months, I have noticed an uptick in Bordeaux-themed dinners because the wines still represent comparatively great value. However, these are predominantly bottles purchased when Bordeaux was still worth buying en primeur.

The 2025 vintage is less than a year away. Whether en primeur is a year away is a different question. Whatever form in which it returns, it will be damaged and will not be the same.

© 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright, but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.

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