Earthy tones of wet wood and stone mingled with the faint aroma of aging wines in the cool, dim-lit cellars of the renowned German wine producer. It was there, in the musty cellar, that a defining moment of my research took place.

As we settled between rows of barrels to talk, the winemaker poured us each a glass of aged Riesling – golden, slightly cloudy, alive.

Then, with a swirl of the glass and a slow sip, he said, “We pour our soul into every barrel. But sometimes I ask myself…am I still making wine I believe in, or wine that sells a story the market wants to hear?

His words caught me off guard. Until that moment, my research had been laser-focused on how personal values shape consumer preferences. But in that quiet space, my perspective shifted. I realised those same values echo back into the cellar, guiding hands and choices as wine comes into being. The pressure to embody them weighs not only on the drinker, but on the maker.  It was a quiet revelation: personal values do not simply influence wine consumption; they shape its very creation. They live in the vineyard, cellar, and every decision behind the bottle.

A shift in focus 

My research began with a simple curiosity: what is it about wines shaped by natural microbial diversity that captivates some drinkers, while leaving others sceptical? And how do people truly make sense of the word “natural”? But as I dug deeper, those clear boundaries I imagined began to blur.

A comment during one of my earlier interviews is a case in point. A participant paused mid-sentence and asked, “Wait, what really counts as natural wine these days?” That question hung in the air, echoed by others who shared confusion, skepticism, or fiercely held beliefs. Some raised concerns about trust and safety; others dismissed “natural” as just another passing trend, or worse, a hollow promise telling you what you want to hear, not what’s really inside.

These conversations, coupled with vibrant debates within the Eco2Wine network, pushed me to question my assumptions. I began to see that natural wine, rooted in microbial biodiversity, isn’t a single story. It is a mosaic of meanings, each tied to different approaches to winemaking.

This realization reshaped my research. I began to hone in on how people perceive three different winemaking approaches, each marked by a different degree of human intervention and microbial management: conventional, low-intervention, and those grounded in managing microbial ecosystems. Each one triggers a unique mix of reactions, assumptions, and ideas about what feels “natural” to the consumer. And in that complexity, I found where the real story lies.

Voices from the field

My research journey is unfolding across two very different wine worlds: Georgia and Germany. Each adds new layers to my understanding. I’m now buried in mountains of transcripts, listening closely to the stories of everyday wine drinkers. Their voices are anything but simple: rich with emotion, full of contradictions, and deeply connected to their cultural roots. These are more than just data points; they reflect experiences that deserve careful attention and thoughtful reflection.

The greatest challenge has been capturing the complexity of these narratives. How do I translate their rich, messy stories into structured data without losing the depth of their meaning? Balancing rigorous analysis with heartfelt understanding is a delicate dance. Step by step, I have been refining my coding framework, letting patterns reveal themselves organically while keeping the bigger picture clear and coherent.

Insights beyond the interview room

One of the most surprising discoveries in this journey has been where the richest insights arise. It’s not always from carefully structured interviews or academic research, but from the unplanned, candid moments shared over coffee breaks, amid rows of vines, in bustling labs, or beside bubbling fermentation tanks.

Conversations with microbiologists, viticulturists, winemakers, and economists have opened new doors, challenging my assumptions and revealing layers I hadn’t seen before. Their diverse perspectives helped me see consumer behavior not just as isolated decisions, but as part of a complex ecosystem shaped from environmental influences, cultural narratives, and economic realities.

Rethinking sustainability

One of the most profound lessons that has emerged from my research is that sustainability in microbial diversity wine is far from a simple, one-size-fits-all concept. It’s a tangled evolving process that involves countless trade-offs and compromises at every stage, from nurturing the vineyard’s living soil to the bottle on your table. Winemakers are constantly making decisions that honor their philosophies while embracing innovation, weighing ecological integrity against economic realities.

I’ve come to understand that “natural” or “eco-friendly” wine isn’t about chasing perfection or fixed ideals. It’s about genuine, ongoing efforts to improve, knowing the path forward is never linear. This is a story I wish more consumers embraced: Sustainability isn’t a flawless destination; it’s a raw, honest process of striving toward better choices, one imperfect step at a time.