Jane Masters MW and Andrew Neather have created something different in the world of wine publishing: a serious, grounded examination of wine’s relationship with climate change, sustainability and trade. Published in 2025 and running to 248 pages, the book avoids lifestyle fluff and instead offers a sober, evidence-based account of where wine stands today and where it’s heading.
Masters brings weighty authority as a Master of Wine and former Chair of the Institute of Masters of Wine, with a particular interest in sustainability. Neather, known for his decade-long stint as the wine critic at the London Evening Standard, brings clarity and flow to the writing, drawing on his more recent work as a food and wine blogger. Together, they manage to tackle a broad and often technical subject without losing accessibility.
The book begins with a clear-eyed overview: sustainability in wine is complicated. The authors don’t try to simplify what is inherently a messy, interconnected problem. Instead, they explore the growing evidence that wine is both affected by and contributing to climate change. From the projection that up to 90% of coastal and low-lying vineyards in Southern Europe and California could become unsuitable for quality wine production by the end of the century, to the sharp drops in global production already being observed, the picture is neither abstract nor distant.
Importantly, the book does not deal in theory alone. Real-world examples are woven throughout, illustrating how winemakers across the globe are already contending with erratic weather, earlier harvests, changing grape characteristics, wildfires, frost damage and long-term water stress. The gradual shift in the sensory profile of wines, how they smell, taste and feel, is one of the clearest signs that climate change is not a future issue, but a present one.
There’s plenty here that many wine lovers may never have considered. Packaging and distribution, for example, are shown to account for more than half of wine’s carbon footprint, with heavy glass bottles being a key culprit. The discussion around bottle weight, glass recycling (or often the lack thereof), and alternatives such as lighter bottles, screw caps and cans is both detailed and enlightening, particularly when paired with insights about consumer perception and fragility in transport.
In the vineyard, the book introduces what needs to be a more circular view of farming. There’s clear and detailed explanation of why viticulture is not “natural” in any true sense. Vines are intensely controlled, pruned and protected. Topics like soil health, agrochemical use, fungal networks, dry farming versus irrigation and biological pest control are all explored with welcome specificity. The authors are also honest about limitations: for example, the difficulty of farming organically in higher-latitude, humid regions and the still very low global uptake of organic practices, just 6% of vineyards as of 2019.
The section on winemaking itself is equally informative. From fermentation choices to the environmental cost of temperature control, microbial management, water usage and acid adjustment, it’s clear the book was written with a desire to be practical. Notably, it avoids romanticising winemaking techniques. We learn that 95% of wines use commercial yeast rather than wild fermentation, and that cleaning processes alone can require up to 10 litres of water for every litre of wine produced.
The environmental impact of oak barrels is given appropriate space, as is the surprising cost structure of packaging and labelling, which in many cases exceeds the value of the wine itself. Recycling is addressed frankly, highlighting how, for instance, clear glass used for rosé cannot include high levels of recycled content and how many councils in the UK downcycle glass to construction use rather than recycle it properly. Even the minutiae, such as the recyclability of screw caps depending on whether they’re left on, are also mentioned.
The book also explores bulk bottling. The UK, as one of the world’s largest bulk bottlers, is the key example. There’s an interesting tension here. Bulk bottling is much more sustainable and allows for better use of recycled glass in the country of consumption, but also removes bottling jobs from source countries, which may rely on them. This nuance typifies the book’s approach. Complexities are acknowledged, not papered over.
Ethical and social issues are not overlooked. From the structural inequalities in South Africa to the challenge of attracting younger workers into the global wine trade, Masters and Neather don’t pretend that sustainability is just about carbon. They draw attention to the wider pressures on the industry: declining consumption, demographic shifts and the lack of business acumen in many wine-producing regions. The rise of wine tourism, and its role in both economic and environmental terms, is also explored.
Crucially, the book doesn’t try to tell the reader what to do. It doesn’t suggest what wines to buy, nor does it attempt to catalogue ‘best’ producers. Instead, it offers the knowledge needed to ask better questions: Why is this bottle so heavy? What does this producer mean by “sustainable”? How much do I understand about where and how this wine was made?
Examples are drawn from recognisable, mass-market producers like Meerlust, Vergelegen, Beronia, Torres, Domaine Bousquet and Jackson Family Wines. This is deliberate. These are not boutique wineries catering to a small elite. They are real, well-known businesses producing wine on a global scale, exactly the kind that needs to adapt if sustainability efforts are to matter.
This is a book for the wine drinker who wants to understand more, not about which wine to serve with dinner, but about how climate and sustainability are reshaping wine itself. It equips you to take a more informed, thoughtful position on the wines you buy and the industry you support.
Among the many wine celebrity books appearing this year, especially in the lead-up to Christmas, this one offers something different. It’s not a flashy stocking filler for entertainment, but something that earns its place on your shelf and in your ongoing conversations.
The cover price is £20, the cost of a decent bottle of wine or perhaps two if chosen carefully. I have arranged, with the publishers, 15% off this book if you use the code WINEDRINKER15. This isn’t part of any affiliate programme, I don’t receive anything if you use it.
