There’s a dark side to the wine industry – and nobody’s talking about it

Enjoying a glass of wine is one of life’s simplest and greatest pleasures. It can be a catalyst for sparking emotions, and memories of places and times shared with loved ones and friends: songs danced to, meals eaten, holidays enjoyed in the warm evening sun. The fantasy of life in a vineyard is a romantic one: rolling fields, ancient stone buildings, and the magic of turning juice into alcohol.

But there is a much darker side to wine, one that we as consumers should not just be aware of, but actively questioning to ensure change. Have you ever stopped to think about the people who form the most vital cog in the machine of winemaking? The people who pick the grapes – and the widespread labour abuse that is taking place globally? If you haven’t, it’s vital that you do. If we don’t, we are all complicit.

Last week, two men, Jilali and Larbi El Guazra, who ran a firm called EG Vitiprest, were jailed and fined in France for exploiting workers from Morocco, who were coerced into working as grape pickers in Bordeaux.

The father and son made the victims work long hours without breaks or adequate hydration, as well as housing them in “insalubrious” conditions. Reports in local paper Sud-Ouest stated that this was a human-trafficking operation, involving deceptive recruitment practices, which led to financial hardship for workers and their families.

This case in Bordeaux puts a spotlight on a critical and little-discussed issue within the wine industry (as well as the wider agricultural industry) – that of widespread labour exploitation and human trafficking.

In Italy, a number of investigations are underway into caporalato, a term that refers to illicit intermediation – that is, the provision of workers to employers, or a “gangmaster” system. In Italy, this system has grown steadily since the early 2000s, when the Italian government passed laws that allowed employment outsourcing. Unsurprisingly, undocumented workers are the most vulnerable to those who seek to exploit the lack of accountability and transparency around subcontracting practices.

There have been scandals in the Langhe region of Italy involving caporalato. Here, land prices are astronomical, and a bottle of wine from this region, such as barolo or barbaresco, can easily cost in excess of £100, and sometimes more than £1,000. This is in stark contrast to some workers being paid as little as €3 per hour – and living in squalid conditions.

Workers are often afraid to speak out about the conditions for fear of not having the correct paperwork, and facing detention or deportation. As such, the cycle of exploitation becomes deeply entrenched.

Despite several cases of caporalato having been investigated in recent years, unions, activists and lawyers believe that they are just the tip of the iceberg. And, unlike in other sectors, caporalato in the winemaking industry has been much less probed and exposed, with authorities stating that it is harder to investigate given the scale of the environment that people are working in.

But what can we do as consumers? Well, for a start, we need to start talking about it more, and questioning the people we buy our wine from. When I owned a wine shop, I had conversations with our suppliers about understanding the transparency of the supply chain. Smaller producers tended not to outsource their harvest, relying mostly on family, friends, and longstanding relationships with workers who would visit annually.

On a larger scale, supermarkets now have clear statements about modern-day slavery and their commitment to investigating all levels of their supply chain. I particularly admire the Wine Society, whose policy on modern-day slavery goes deep into ensuring that the most vulnerable people are protected.

But we need to be more aware of this as consumers. We know about the human and environmental cost of fast fashion, and the working conditions of people involved in the production of cheap clothes, but we still don’t have the same level of awareness about the wine we consume – and we should.

It is difficult to know where to begin, but conversations and questioning are an essential starting point in demanding more from the wine we drink. No one wants to be left with the bitter taste of exploitation in their mouth – and without the contribution of the workers who pick the grapes, our glasses would be empty.

Rosamund Hall (DipWSET) is a freelance writer and wine expert