The Story Everyone in Whisky Knows — But Few Were Saying

This article began as a LinkedIn post — a reflection written in the heat of the moment as the Uncle Nearest lawsuit story broke.

I didn’t expect it to travel far. But within hours, the comments started pouring in. From distillers and brand founders. PR consultants and educators. Industry veterans and new voices alike. The consensus? This was what many had been feeling, but few had said out loud.

The lawsuit that lit the fuse

When Uncle Nearest, one of America’s most celebrated new whiskey brands, became the centre of a $100 million lawsuit, the news didn’t just rattle the company — it sent shockwaves through the whisky world. The Tennessee-based distillery faces allegations of overstated barrel inventories, unauthorised real estate dealings, and financial covenant breaches. This is a cautionary tale, but more importantly, it’s indicative of a wider, deeper industry problem: the whisky industry is experiencing its own dot-com moment.

Whisky’s investment illusion

Over the past decade, whisky has transformed from a patient, tradition-driven industry into an investment playground, flooded with speculative capital. Investors, dazzled by headlines of rare Macallan bottles fetching astronomical sums at auction, wrongly assume these extraordinary returns can be easily replicated. Whisky’s slow maturation process — typically spanning decades — collides head-on with the impatient demands of investor expectations, creating unsustainable pressures that are now becoming painfully evident.

A storm long in the making

“The great hurricane season of all time“

The Uncle Nearest case perfectly encapsulates this conflict. Founded in 2019, Uncle Nearest soared quickly on the back of powerful storytelling, award-winning whiskies, and aggressive expansion. Yet behind this meteoric rise lay dependence on continuous funding and assumptions of perpetual growth. When the perfect storm hit — a convergence of global pandemic disruptions, political instability, international tariffs, and shifting consumer behaviours — the flaws in this growth model became starkly apparent. The lawsuit, alleging significant financial misrepresentations and over-leveraging, has exposed the inherent risks of an industry built on assumptions rather than economic reality.

Whisky veteran Steve Beal captured this sentiment perfectly when he remarked that the industry had faced “the great hurricane season of all time” — a convergence of pandemic, innovation, economic instability, and shifting consumer awareness. What looked like a leaning tower might now collapse under its own weight.

Waterford: a cautionary legacy

“Investors expected immediate returns that whisky never promised“

Waterford Distillery offers another profound lesson. Founded by Mark Reynier, a respected figure known for revitalising Scotland’s Bruichladdich Distillery, Waterford pioneered an ambitious terroir-driven approach. Reynier’s meticulous methods demanded extensive investment and time, yet investor patience waned rapidly. As Reynier stated bluntly, “Investors expected tech-like returns from whisky, something the spirit fundamentally cannot deliver.” Waterford’s eventual collapse wasn’t merely financial — it represented a philosophical rupture, the stark misalignment between the intrinsic demands of crafting great whisky and the impatient, unrealistic timelines investors imposed.

Neil Conway, formerly of Waterford, highlighted the human cost of this investment impatience. Reflecting candidly, Conway shared, “We built something meaningful, but investors’ eyes were only on the horizon, expecting immediate returns that whisky never promised.” This dissonance between financial expectations and whisky’s reality shattered more than just balance sheets — it fractured careers, communities, and deeply held aspirations.

Stauning and the cliff edge

Stauning Whisky’s co-founder, Hans Martin Hansgaard, shared similarly sobering insights. Initially buoyed by Diageo’s investment arm Distill Ventures, Stauning rapidly expanded, confident in continual support. Yet when funding unexpectedly ceased, Hansgaard vividly described the moment as feeling “like oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room.” Stauning’s experience underscores an uncomfortable truth: dependency on perpetual investment inflows leaves distilleries precariously vulnerable.

Boom, bust — and now?

This scenario recalls the dot-com bubble of the late 1990s, where relentless investment turned speculative ventures into temporarily inflated successes. When capital dried up, even solid companies suffered catastrophic collapses, unable to survive without constant infusions of cash. Whisky is now facing a parallel moment. Brands that have thrived on a seemingly endless stream of investment — often without clear profitability or sustainable economic models — now stand at the brink of collapse.

This is not a whisky doomsday. But it is a reckoning.

History has seen whisky experience boom-and-bust cycles before, notably the downturn of the 1980s. Learning from past mistakes, the industry today needs transparent and realistic financial communication, cautious management of growth expectations, and education for investors about whisky’s unique economic realities.

What whisky needs next

Distilleries must speak honestly about the timelines and risks. Investors must stop benchmarking against unicorns and start understanding the difference between a spirit and a stock.

Above all, the whisky industry must rediscover humility and patience — qualities that originally made whisky valuable. The relentless rush of speculative investment risks destroying genuinely exceptional distilleries through no fault of their craftsmanship or innovation.

The Uncle Nearest lawsuit is not a standalone event but a pivotal moment highlighting systemic vulnerabilities. Whisky stands at a crossroads: it can learn from past mistakes and choose a path of sustainability, integrity, and patience — or succumb to the addiction of endless, unsustainable investment.

This is whisky’s dot-com moment. And if we’re honest, we’ve seen it coming.

Let’s keep the conversation going

Have you experienced the tension between growth and patience in whisky — or in another industry entirely? Share your thoughts in the comments, or message me directly. If this piece resonated, I’d be grateful if you shared it with someone who might need to read it.