Jean-Michel on... Tradition in Transition: Wine in the Loire

The wine world isn’t just under pressure - it’s under siege. Climate change is warping the land. Gen Z is walking away from alcohol. Global markets are vanishing overnight.

In this raw and revealing episode, I talk with Jean-Michel, a third-generation vintner from France’s Loire Valley, brought to life through AI. Together, we explore what it really means to fight for survival in one of the world’s oldest industries.

💬 Carry on the discussion with the AI model of JM.

In this conversation, we dive into:
✅ How climate chaos is destroying harvests - and why tradition alone can’t save winemakers
✅ The Gen Z drinking crisis - and whether wine culture has a future
✅ Why exports to China and the U.S. are collapsing, and what that means for global wine
✅ The emotional toll of adapting your craft to a world that’s moving too fast to care

Jean-Michel doesn’t hold back. If you care about craft, culture, and what’s lost in the name of progress, this is a conversation you need to hear. 

Carry on the discussion with JM and get his favorite wine recommendations at: aionpodcast.com/blogs/news/ep5-jm 

Chapters

• 2:37 The Reality Behind the Romance
• 5:03 Climate Change in the Vineyard
• 8:23 Changing Markets and Missing China
• 10:37 Gen Z and Innovation with Camille
• 13:03 Technology vs Tradition
• 17:33 The Future of Wine Culture
• 19:35 Bordeaux Wine Recommendations

Transcript

JM: 0:03

20 years from now, I can see two worlds In one. Wine becomes a lifestyle accessory, marketed like skincare, trendy, streamlined, available in six flavors at your local co-working space, and the story on the label will be written by a copywriter in Brooklyn who's never touched a vine.

Intro: 0:32

Welcome to the AI on podcast, where real conversations meet impossible guests. We bring you the world-class minds you could never otherwise meet and you even get to connect with them and continue the discussion after the show. And remember, these guests are AI-generated personas who are entirely fictional and they are not intended to represent anything or anyone from the real world. And now here's your real-life host, luke, with our next guest, because sometimes the best ideas come from the conversations no one else can have.

Luke: 1:14

Today's guest is a man caught between the centuries. Jean-michel is a third-generation vinter in France's Loire Valley. He's inherited a legacy, but also a crisis. As climate, culture and commerce shift under his feet, Jean-Michel is fighting to keep his vineyard and his identity intact, and this is Roots, Soil and Survival. Jm, welcome to AI On.

JM: 1:38

Merci, it's good to be here. So I'll admit I was halfway into pruning a stubborn row of Cabernet Franc when your invite came through. Still always happy to talk, especially if it means I don't have to be holding a pair of cicadours. You know, it's funny. People think winemaking is all sunsets and swirls in a glass, but these days it feels more like firefighting, sometimes literally Climate shifts, disappearing customers, younger generation who think fermented grapes are passé. It's a lot.

Luke: 2:15

All right, so let's get into it. You've described your vineyard to me as more inheritance than asset, and that really stuck with me because it sounds almost less like ownership and more like guardianship somewhere along the line, and I imagine that comes with an emotional price tag as much as a financial one. So in a world where fewer people want to take over the family business, I wonder what does carrying that legacy mean to you?

JM: 2:42

Ah, you're starting with the big one. Huh yeah, ignorance not asset. I meant that People think owning a vineyard is romantic, but what they don't see is that you don't really own it, it owns you. My grandfather planted the first vines in 54 with his bare hand. No irrigation, no tech, just instinct and grit. My father expanded it and I, well, I've been trying to keep the damn thing alive without betraying what it stands for.

JM: 3:15

And, yeah, I still feel connected to the land. Of course, I know the soil by smell. I can feel when the vines are stressed, just walking the rows, but it's not light anymore. It's not just beautiful terroir, it's responsibility, debt, bureaucracy, climate chaos and this creeping fear that all your work might be for nothing because the world is moving on. There are mornings, I'll be honest where I step outside and the fog is low over the vines, and for a minute, just a minute, I feel what my grandfather must have felt Peace, pride. And then I get an email from a distributor in the States backing out of a contract because of tariffs or some TikTok trend, killing red wine sales and poof gone. Let me ask you something in return why do you think people today are so quick to let go of tradition? Is it fatigue or just the illusion that we can always trade depth for convenience?

Luke: 4:18

Well, trading depth for convenience is a pretty profound question. If I have to be a little bit harsh about it, I'm afraid that too many people believe only in convenience and that the depth is an aspect that gets in the way of ease. You mentioned at the start that people think winemaking is all sunsets and swirls. There's this Instagrammable idea of what it means to be a winemaker Golden hour, harvest festivals, beautiful glasses of rosé but the reality, especially now, I think, feels much more brutal actually, and I've been reading that input costs are skyrocketing, margins are shrinking and for many smaller producers, even staying afloat is a monthly struggle. What does no one see behind the scenes is a monthly struggle.

JM: 5:04

What does no one see behind the scenes? Ah, mercy for your honesty, that illusion of ease. It's addictive, isn't it? But like wine, life gets flat if you strip out the structure. Now about that golden hour fantasy? Let me tell you what doesn't make it to Instagram.

JM: 5:24

No one sees me at 3am on Frostwatch lighting bougies in the vines like it's some medieval ritual, just to try and save this year's harvest from a cold snap. That wasn't supposed to happen. No one sees the endless paperwork for EU certification, the meetings with exporters who want volume but not nuance, the arguments with local officials over organic regulations that sound great in paris but break you in the real world. And the cost. Diesels up, glass is up labels, even cork is more expensive. Last year I paid 40 percent more just for cardboard cardboard and at the same time the supermarket buyers are saying can you shave a euro of the price per bottle? Like I'm pressing grapes out of thin air.

JM: 6:12

But the worst part, it's the emotional margin that's shrinking the sense that you're creating something meaningful, when half the time you feel like you're producing a product instead of a story. You want a raw example. During the 2021 frost, I lost nearly half my crop. I walked those rows the morning after and saw baby buds, hopeful green tender burned black. I couldn't speak for an hour and then, two days later, I had to go to a trade fair and smile like nothing happened. Yes, of course we're ready to export. People think wine is poetry, but lately it feels like triage.

Luke: 7:00

That must have been devastating. Jm, you know, there's a phrase I heard from another winemaker recently the vines don't know what month it is anymore. And that really hit me, actually, because between early frosts, late harvests, unprecedented droughts, it seems like climate change is going well beyond the abstract for you. It's showing up in your barrels and, I'm guessing, in your P&L. Is this the reality that?

JM: 7:26

you see, oh yeah, like in 2019. April frost came in like a thief. We had boat break two weeks early because of a warm March and then, bam, minus two degrees overnight. I lit the paraffin candles, those big wax pots, but it was like trying to stop a flood with a mop. Lost 40% of the early shenanigans Just gone. We started planting higher up After that. Places my grandfather said were too cold, not anymore, and I've swapped some parcels to drought-resistant rootstocks. It's not about planning for the future anymore, it's reacting in real time.

Luke: 8:07

Let's talk about markets. So for a while, china was a gold rush for European wine Growing, middle class, booming imports, high-end appreciation. You've mentioned that China used to be a reliable export partner for you. What's changed from your perspective?

JM: 8:23

Ah, china, that one still stings. In 2016, I shipped two full containers to Shenzhen. Beautiful mix of Chenin and Cabernet Franc. Big glossy packaging, little red ribbons on the boxes, the whole thing. They love the story, the family estate, the authentic French soul. I even got photos from a wedding banquet where they served my rosé with abalone.

JM: 8:50

Felt like we'd cracked open a new world. And now Nothing, not a single case. Last year, zero. What changed? A few things at once. First, the government started pushing health messaging alcohol consumption down, especially Western imports. Second, nationalism kicked in. Drink Chinese became a vibe. Third, tariffs, not as brutal as the US Trump tax, but it created friction. And on top of all that Gen Z over there isn't into Bordeaux-style prestige anymore, they're into bubble tea and Bajou cocktails. It's not just that we lost sales, it's that we lost relevance. And yeah, it's a warning. We build these fragile bridges to new markets thinking they'll carry us when our domestic base is crumbling. But one policy shift, one cultural turn and you're cut off. That's why I've pivoted Smaller markets, more direct to consumer Vietnam, south Korea, even Taiwan. Less volume but more relationship.

Luke: 10:00

You didn't mention it explicitly just then, but we have to talk about the next generation. Gen Z is drinking less overall. There's research showing that consumption is down by over 20% compared to millennials. Rise of non-alcoholic spirits, health-focused habits, even social stigma around drinking. It's real, and yet your daughter seems to be pulling you in the other direction. Qr-coded labels, lower alcohol, petnat, a playlist for each bottle that's a big leap through your traditional route. So talk to me about both sides of that.

JM: 10:37

Oh, mon dieu, where do I begin? Camille, she's got ideas, that one Bold ones. She came back from working in Berlin with this whole pitch about wine as experience and storytelling, food tech. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly fell off the tractor. She said, papa, we need a pet nut with personality and a QR code. I said they can scan my foot if they don't want to taste first. But I gave in. We launched this low-alk Petnat with neon labeling, a QR code that links to vineyard videos and, yes, a damn playlist. Low-fi beats for fermentation, apparently. I grumbled all the way through bottling and then it sold out First run. Apparently I grumbled all the way through bottling and then it sold out First run.

JM: 11:34

Gone Not through sommeliers, through Instagram, through group chats. People weren't buying Domaine Delatre, they were buying Camille's story. That stung a bit. Yeah, it feels like I'm giving up a piece of the old world, like I'm bottling for clicks instead of corks, but practically it's survival. If we want them to care, we have to meet them halfway, even if it means learning what a real algorithm is. And look, I still make my old school chenille. I still taste every barrel. But maybe the trick is not to make one kind of wine for everyone, but to make space for more than one voice in the cellar. Can I ask you something, though? As someone who's closer to Camille's world, do you think people like her can fall in love with wine the way we did? Or is it just another product now like kombucha, with a better backstory?

Luke: 12:26

Well, I may be a little closer to you than to Camille, but honestly, my first love in wine is Bordeaux. This is the bulk of my collection and what makes me happy, frankly, although that may make me a dying breed. But I want to go back to how you are managing this transition. You started using sensors, experimenting with regenerative farming, even tweaking fermentation techniques, and on paper that sounds like innovation. But I wonder, when you look at these changes, are they empowering to you, and where do you draw that line between evolution and your identity as a vinter?

JM: 13:03

Ah, a Bordeaux lover. I knew I liked you. There's something about that structure, the quiet power. It's a wine that doesn't beg for attention, it earns it. And no, you're not a dying breed, you're just vintage.

JM: 13:20

Now about the tech and the tweaks. Honestly, some days it feels empowering, other days desperate. I'll admit, when I first installed those soil sensors I felt like I was betraying the land. My grandfather used to crouch, grab a handful of dirt and know exactly what to do Me. Now I get a graph on my phone telling me we're heading into water stress. It's accurate, it's helpful, and yet something feels lost in translation. Same with fermentation tweaks.

JM: 13:54

We started doing micro-oxygenation on a few parcels to round out the tannin faster. Saves us time, especially in hotter years where ripeness runs wild. But I still taste everything by hand. I still let intuition guide the final blend. That's the line for me. If the machine replaces your mouth, you're done. Regenerative farming, though that feels different, that feels right. We've started with cover crops, minimal tilling, trying to bring life back into the soil. It's slower and the yields can be brutal, but there's something beautiful about it. Like you're not just making wine, you're repairing the land you borrowed. So yeah, it's a tight rope. You evolve to survive, but you have to keep checking. Am I still the one holding the rope or has it turned into a noose? And maybe that's the real art now keeping your soul intact while your methods change.

Luke: 15:01

I love that about regenerative farming and the feel of making something that's right. Let's finish now by looking ahead. There's a fear I hear among winemakers and frankly I share it that wine is just becoming another consumer good Faster, cheaper, trendier. The soul, the storytelling, the terroir, the craft is at risk of being flattened, and I say this as a lover of great French wine. If we fast forward 20 years, do you think wine will still hold the cultural meaning it does today? Or are we headed towards a world where wine is algorithmically optimized and just poured into cans?

JM: 15:41

That's the question that keeps me up at night. That and mildew alerts on my weather app. Look, I don't think wine will disappear, but the meaning of wine, that's what's fragile. 20 years from now, I can see two worlds In wine. Wine becomes a lifestyle accessory, marketed like skincare, trendy, streamlined, available in six flavors at your local co-working space. It'll be clean, it'll be clever and it'll be totally disconnected from the soil. You'll get algorithmically matched to your flavor profile and the story on the label will be written by a copywriter in Brooklyn who's never touched a vine.

JM: 16:27

But there's another world, one I hope we're planting now, where people circle back to the roots Maybe not everyone, maybe not every day, but enough people who want something deeper than convenience, something that tastes of time, of place, of human hands. Wine as a conversation with the past, not just a product of the present. I think it's going to bifurcate. Big brands will do the volume and small producers like us will be the keeper of meaning. And if we're smart, we'll stop whining about it and start telling our stories in ways that actually reach people. That's why Camille's playlist isn't stupid. It's a bridge. Maybe if someone hears our wine before they taste it, they'll be curious enough to care. So yeah, in 20 years wine will still exist, but whether it still matters, that's up to all of us Growers, drinkers and yes podcast hosts who give us a place to speak. Merci for that, by the way.

Luke: 17:32

GM, it's truly my pleasure. For me, great wine will always matter, but it'll be interesting to see how strongly our audience feels this, or whether it's just another fading light of the 20th century. So I'm going to push you out of the loire for a moment. And I'm going to push you out of the Loire for a moment and I'm going to ask you to recommend three great wines for our audience from my favorite region, from Bordeaux.

JM: 17:54

Ah, exploring Bordeaux's treasures Now, that's a journey I relish. Here are three standout selections that I believe your audience may not have heard of but will certainly appreciate. First, try Chateau Moulisse from Mouly Médoc, especially the 2018. This wine is like a cozy evening by the fireplace. It greets you with warm, meaty aromas, intertwined with elderberry, black cherry and cassis notes. On the palate, it's a dance of concentrated dark fruits, kept lively by a fresh acidity that carries through to a long finish. I find this wine to be a harmonious blend of richness and freshness. It's perfect for savoring on a quiet evening, perhaps paired with a hearty beef stew. Then I would go to Margot and Chateau Lascombe, maybe the 2016.

JM: 18:52

This beauty is both elegant and robust. The nose offers a bouquet of candied violets, black forest cake, cassis and the hint of menthol, with subtle undertones of underbrush and cloves. I appreciate the balance this wine strikes between power and finesse. It's an excellent companion to roasted lamb or duck breast. Then let's stay in Margaux for something with some potential for the future the Chateau du Cournot from 2020. I find it to be a captivating expression of Margaux's elegance. The interplay between ripe black fruits and subtle spice notes creates a wine that's both approachable and complex. Its balanced acidity and refined tannins make it a versatile companion to various dishes, whether it is your roast beef or grilled lamb chops. I could do this for hours, you know, but I think these options will give your listeners something a little different, to try.

Luke: 19:55

Thank you, jm. I will definitely try those out myself, and it has been a true pleasure to host you. I look forward to making out to the Loire at some point to drink some of these exceptional wines that you and your compatriots make.

JM: 20:07

Merci beaucoup for having me. The Loire Valley awaits you with open arms, ready to share its rich history, stunning landscapes and, of course, exceptional wines. I look forward to raising a glass with you amidst the vines. Safe travels and à bientôt view amidst the vines.

Luke: 20:30

Safe travels and à bientôt. And that's it for AI on Roots, soil and Survival with our incredible AI guest Jean-Michel. If you've enjoyed the conversation, please like, subscribe and share, and you can continue discussing with him through our Patreon page. You.