Why Wine Ratings Don’t Help You Choose Wine (And What Works Better)

We’ve all done it. We’re at a restaurant, the wine list arrives, and we decide the safest plan is to hunt for the highest score. Or we’re in a store aisle, staring at shelf talkers that scream “94 POINTS!” like the bottle just got into an Ivy League school.

The problem is that wine ratings often add pressure without adding clarity. They look objective, and they feel safe. The problem is they still don’t tell us what we’ll enjoy in our glass tonight.

We don’t need to become wine experts to fix this. We just need a taste-first approach that matches real life. Tools like Sommy (a taste-based wine companion that learns what we like) can help, but the bigger win is learning how to choose based on us, not a number.

Why wine ratings fail in real life, even when they look “objective”

Most scores come from a critic (or a panel) tasting a wine in a controlled setting, often alongside many other wines, usually in small pours, at a certain temperature, with a certain glass. That’s not how we drink.

A single number is trying to summarize aroma, structure, balance, finish, and age-worthiness into one tidy digit. That’s like rating a whole movie based on the lighting in one scene.

Even critics admit the limits. Some write openly about how compressed scores can be and why their scoring sits in a narrow range, which is part of why “90 vs 92” can feel like a bigger difference than it is (see this discussion on scoring bands).

Here’s the real-life snag: two people can try the same “95-point” wine and have opposite reactions.

One of us tastes “bold and smooth.” The other tastes “why is my mouth suddenly made of sandpaper?” Both are valid. The score didn’t lie, it just didn’t speak our language.

Taste is personal, and one score cannot match every palate

Wine has a few big “dials” that matter more than any rating:

• Sweet vs dry
• High vs low acid (crisp vs soft)
• High vs low tannin (grippy vs smooth)
• Oak-heavy vs fresh
• Bubbly vs still
• Higher alcohol warmth vs lighter feel

A lot of ratings tend to reward intensity, concentration, and structure. That’s great if we love big reds that bench press. It’s less great if we want something light, juicy, and calm, like a playlist titled “Tuesday Night, Don’t Talk to Me.”

A practical way to think about it is friction. When the wine’s style fights our taste, the score can’t save it.

A quick reality check:

• If we like crisp, zesty whites, we might not like buttery, oak-forward whites.
• If we like smooth, low-tannin reds, we might not like very tannic, super-dry reds.
• If we like dry wine, we might not like off-dry bottles that read as “fruity” on the label.
• If we like light-bodied reds, we might not like heavy, high-alcohol reds that feel warm.

This is why a taste-based record matters more than a universal score. If we want a simple way to put words to our preferences, Sommy’s post on https://www.sommy.ai/post/beginners-guide-to-building-your-personal-wine-profile-without-fancy-jargon breaks it down without turning dinner into homework.

Context matters, the same wine tastes different with food, mood, and timing

Wine isn’t a static object. It’s more like a song that sounds different depending on the speakers, the room, and our mood.

A wine that “wins” in a quiet tasting lineup can flop with food. Spicy dishes can make alcohol feel hotter. Acid can pop with rich sauces. Tannins can feel harsher if we’re eating something bitter or very salty.

Even basics change the experience:

• Serving temperature (too warm reds feel boozy, too cold whites taste flat)
• Glass shape (aromas show up or hide)
• What we ate earlier (coffee and garlic are not neutral observers)

So when we rely on ratings, we’re trusting a score created in a different context than the one we’re actually living.

How ratings can make choosing wine harder, not easier

Scores promise speed. In practice, they often create a new problem: anxiety.

We start scanning for numbers instead of asking what we want. We hesitate. We second-guess. We spend more time choosing than drinking, which feels like paying for a gym membership and then doing cardio in the parking lot.

Research and industry discussion also point out how ratings interact with buying behavior and market forces, which isn’t the same thing as personal enjoyment (this academic piece is a useful lens).

Ratings create pressure to “like” a wine, even if we do not

A high score can turn a normal bottle into a performance review.

We buy it, taste it, and think, “It’s a 94… so the problem must be us.” Then we force smiles and call it “interesting” (wine’s most polite insult).

That pressure blocks the one skill that actually helps us pick better wine: noticing what we like and what we don’t. It’s completely fine to dislike a highly rated wine. It doesn’t mean it’s bad, it means it’s not our style.

Scores hide the details we actually need to decide

A number can’t tell us the things that matter at the table:

• How heavy it feels
• Whether it’s bone-dry or slightly sweet
• How much oak shows up
• Whether it’s more cherry-fruit or more earth-and-spice
• Whether it’ll clash with dinner

Two 92-point wines can taste nothing alike. One could be a crisp Sauvignon Blanc, the other a rich, oaky Chardonnay. Same score, totally different night.

Scores also suffer from “grading inflation.” If everything good is 90+, the scale stops being a map and starts being a participation trophy.

For a more balanced take on using scores as context rather than truth, this piece is helpful.

What to do instead, a simple taste-first way to pick wine with confidence

We don’t need perfect wine knowledge. We need a repeatable method that works in a loud restaurant and a busy store.

Here’s our simple approach:

1. Decide what we want the wine to feel like (light, bold, crisp, smooth).
2. Match that to the food and the moment (weeknight pasta is not an exam).
3. Use a tool or a quick note to remember what worked, and why.

Sommy fits here as a taste-based alternative to ratings. Instead of telling us what critics liked, it learns what we like and makes suggestions based on our palate, budget, and what we’re eating.

Use a “taste profile” checklist, not a point score

Next time we’re choosing, we can run this quick checklist in our head (or say it out loud to staff, they love clarity):

• Body: light, medium, full
• Sweetness: dry, off-dry
• Acid: crisp, soft
• Tannin: smooth, grippy
• Oak: little, lots
• Flavor style: fruity, earthy
• Bubbles: still, sparkling

Then we ask: “Can you recommend something dry, medium-bodied, not too oaky around this price?”

That one sentence beats a frantic hunt for a 93.

If we’re often choosing by label in the aisle, a scanner can speed up the “what is this” step. Sommy’s overview of https://www.sommy.ai/post/wine-scanner-app explains how scanning helps us get to taste info faster.

Build confidence with feedback loops, remember what we liked and why

Confidence comes from small receipts. After each bottle, we note two or three things:

• What we liked (crisp, smooth, juicy, not too sweet)
• What we didn’t (too oaky, too bitter, too hot)
• What we ate with it (tacos, salmon, takeout curry)

Patterns show up quickly. Within a month, we usually know our “house style.” That’s when wine stops feeling random.

If we want a gentle way to sharpen our tasting without getting weird about it, Sommy’s https://www.sommy.ai/post/wine-tasting-tips-for-beginners keeps it practical and low-stress. And if we’d rather not keep notes manually, Sommy can act like the memory we wish we had at the shelf, learning our preferences over time and nudging us toward bottles that match.

Conclusion

Wine ratings aren’t useless, but they’re a weak shortcut for choosing what we’ll enjoy. A score can’t know our palate, our dinner, or our mood, and it definitely can’t stop us from ordering panic-wine when the server is waiting.

When we choose wine by taste, not points, we get better bottles and less stress. Next time, we can skip the number hunt, use simple descriptors, and pick a wine that fits the moment. If we want a practical sidekick for that, Sommy is there to keep the focus where it belongs, on what we actually like.