In recent months, after countless conversations with industry peers, especially those in the business of rare and collectable bottles, one thing has become abundantly clear: there’s a lot of talk, but very little action. It’s a recurring pattern, a cycle that seems to repeat itself no matter the bottle or the buyer.
Take a typical exchange, for example:
“Hi Ben, do you still have access to The Macallan 1926?”
“Yes, there are all the different variants in a number of geographies.”
“What’s the price, and can you get photos?”
“They range from 2 million euros through to 2.5 million, depending on which one, taxes, and location.”
“Great! Please get me photos; someone’s really interested and needs the bottle quickly for a specific date.”
This looks like a quick conversation, right? In reality, it’s the opening salvo of days, sometimes weeks, of emails, calls, and negotiations. I end up chasing down sellers, gathering photos (often with sensitive information redacted), and going back and forth with agents. You hustle to meet the buyer’s request, and then the deal stalls. Why? The reasons vary. Whether it’s discrepancies over bottle numbers, questions about authenticity, a dispute over deposits, or some left-field requests like arranging pick-up in a random country or paying in crypto you’ve never even heard of. The sheer unpredictability of the requests adds layers of complexity to what should be a relatively straightforward transaction.
I get it—this is part of the game. And in many ways, I love it. The thrill of the chase, the intricate dance between buyer and seller, the satisfaction when you finally clinch that high-stakes deal. But here’s the thing: as this pattern becomes more common, it’s spreading to cheaper bottles. Now, it’s not just The Macallan 1926 that requires this level of effort, it’s Macallan 25-Year-Olds, or even standard, high-quality Scotch. A few weeks ago, I spent a full day working on a large order for a Macallan 25, and my partner meticulously sorted the international logistics. Everything was agreed upon… until, at the last minute, the buyer said the price was too high. All of that work, time, and planning went down the drain.
It’s at this point that I can’t help but ask: why is our time being devalued?
You wouldn’t expect a barrister to spend hours preparing a case without charging for it, or an architect to draft blueprints for free, would you? Yet in our industry, there’s a growing expectation that sourcing bottles and brokering deals is some kind of complimentary service. The sheer volume of wasted time is staggering. Every deal comes with its hurdles, and if you land one, the effort pays off,
but the growing number of tyre-kickers is taking its toll.
So where does that leave us?
It’s time for change. Enough is enough. I’m putting some ideas on the table, and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Maybe it’s time to introduce:
A list of repeat timewasters – Industry insiders share who the tyre-kickers are, so we can all avoid the ones that never intend to follow through.
A search fee, refunded on completion – Serious buyers won’t baulk at a small upfront cost, and it helps filter out those just fishing for prices.
A subscription or retainer model – Those committed to high-end purchases could pay a retainer, giving them priority access and our full attention while ensuring we’re not wasting our resources on empty promises.
The white gloves are off. This industry, especially at the high end, can’t afford to keep playing these games. Something has to give. We need to make it clear that our expertise, time, and connections are valuable, and they come with a price.
So, what’s your take? How do we cut out the tyre-kickers and keep this industry focused on serious collectors and genuine enthusiasts?
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