Several years ago, when I first started my spreadsheet to track The World’s 50 Best Bars, I was excitedly telling a friend about it and he said
You know, nobody cares about this stuff as much as you do.
His tone made it clear that this wasn’t meant as a compliment and for a long time, that reaction made me embarrassed to tell people about my work.
If I visited a bar because it was on a list, I was hesitant to admit as much for fear of seeming….what? Pedestrian? Hung up on awards? An outsider? It’s taken several years of travel, many excited responses about what I’m doing, having my data used in a seminar at Tales of the Cocktail, and a good therapist to get me to the point where I will proudly talk about my comprehensive database of bar awards.
At some point there was a generational shift away from caring, or at least admitting to care, and I think we need to swing the pendulum back in the other direction. There’s enough apathy and the negativity in the world already, joy is revolutionary. Yes, admitting you care about being recognized or awarded for your work means openly admitting that you’ll be sad and disappointed if you don’t win or get ranked – but that’s not a weakness – it’s a sign that you want to do your best.
At some point there was a generational shift away from caring, or at least admitting to care, and I think we need to swing the pendulum back in the other direction. There’s enough apathy and the negativity in the world already, joy is revolutionary. Yes, admitting you care about being recognized or awarded for your work means openly admitting that you’ll be sad and disappointed if you don’t win or get ranked – but that’s not a weakness – it’s a sign that you want to do your best.
Looking back on the statement “No one cares about this as much as you do,” I see it very differently today. So many amazing things in the world only exist because someone cared more than anyone else. (See: John Fulton’s Orrery)
(Photo courtesy Kelvingrove Instagram)
As I’ve spent more time digging into awards, I’ve seen this attitude of “too cool to care” surface over and over. No one cares about awards (until they win one) and few people will admit that they want to win. I’ve watched bartenders travel the world, spending more days away than at home, building hype for their bar and then going on a podcast to say they don’t care about winning awards. I’ve heard stories about the steps a bar took to get a global audience and then watched their head bartender sit on a panel and say none of it is for the awards.
Now don’t get me wrong – winning awards should not be the primary focus of a bar. We don’t want bars that only care whether or not the next person through the door is a voter, but neither are we served well by people refusing to admit they care about something. I recently had a lovely chat with a bar owner about how soulless some top bars can feel when they become the sort of place you go once, but they don’t have the space or ability to create a culture of regulars. As a random middle aged white woman from the Midwest, I’ve experienced what it feels like to walk into a bar and be sized up as a nobody. Sometimes that tune changes when a bartender realizes I know a thing or two about bars, cocktails, and hospitality – but sometimes it doesn’t.
External validation shouldn’t be *the* driving force behind a bar program, but it’s okay for it to be *a* driving force. Deep down, I believe it’s human nature to care about recognition. There’s nothing wrong with just keeping your head down and getting on with it but there’s also nothing wrong with wanting to hear your community say “hey, great work.” And if, at the end of the day, you really don’t give a shit? That’s fine – but maybe try to find a talking point that doesn’t make someone else feel embarrassed when they do care.
Cool shit happens because someone cares enough to make it happen. So be cool, care deeply, and make shit happen.