In the lastest issue of Esquire magazine, they list their choices for the “best bars in America,” 51 in all. There are some good places to be sure, but I must question any list of great bars that doesn’t include the Toronado — especially one that seems to favor dive bars. And perhaps more curious than that obvious oversight is the fact that last year’s list not only also overlooked the Toronado but contains none of the same bars as this year’s list.
And while there are certainly other quibbles with the list — Rick Lyke details quite a few — to me this is the crucial fact that makes it impossible to take seriously. Any bar worthy to be considered the best in America would undoubtedly have become so over time and would also be great year after year. You’d expect that a bar that made the list this year was probably pretty damn good last year and one on last year’s list still decent this year. The notion that none from last year are on this year’s list and vice versa makes this purely a literary exercise. Esquire explains it by saying that it’s not an “overhaul of last year’s list. Those bars are still great, and we still drink in them. Think of the list [from last year] as a Hall of Fame.” |
So I understand that Esquire wants to have new places to write about each year and their readers likewise would want to read about new places to try, too. But then it can’t possibly be considered a list of the “best” bars, just a collection of good bars that they believe are praiseworthy. That’s not a bad thing, I looked over the list with considerable anticipation and interest. The sensational title did set me up for certain expectations that went largely unfulfilled. And I suspect I’m not alone. A quick Googling of Esquire’s best bars in America reveals that local community websites, forums, etc. all over the country are discussing it, lamenting omissions, bitching about whole cities missing and questioning the choices. And I think it’s that provocative rubric that sparks such a furor. It’s likely that Esquire not only counted on that but actively designed the list, at least in part, to be debated. Because it’s becoming increasingly obvious that getting people talking about your article, magazine or website is the real goal and anything that stifles that, such as accuracy, full disclosure, or calling it by a less volatile name would all not create the same amount of buzz. Personally, I loathe this trend. It creates a situation where it’s more advantageous to be outrageous than truthful or reasonable. Ann Coulter, for example, is a master of this technique. It’s a reminder that the goal of modern journalism is not informing the people, accurate reporting or even keeping an appearance of impartiality. It’s all about selling advertising and making money. And without standards, the easiest way to do that is simply by being provocative and outrageous. Of course, picking the best bars in America is an inconsequential exercise when compared to the many more important issues that the press misleads us about on any given day, but the technique and goal is the same — and the subject is my stock in trade, which is why I’m talking about it at all.
But even with all of that, the Esquire effort is rife with problems. Despite using several writers to compile the list even they admit there are issues with their method.
We haven’t patronized every bar in America, though we’re working on it. For the parts of the country we’ve never had the honor of drinking in, we asked our friends — the most knowledgeable and passionate of whom is Esquire drinks correspondent David Wondrich. Despite our connections, we’ve clearly shortchanged some great cities and have no doubt overlooked some great bars.
Obviously with a task as broad and large as trying to declare the best bars in America it’s going to be difficult to consider every bar, but not doing so, or even trying to be somewhat comprehensive, makes it largely a futile effort in the end. But all it really would have taken to make it a valid effort would have been to change the title of the article to “Our Favorite Bars in America for 2007.” But that wouldn’t have created the buzz that publishing a flawed article and declaring the choices to be “the best” has done. To me, that’s the worst kind of tabloid journalism.
Jim F. says
I look at it this way: I’m pretty damn sure that any bar Esquire Magazine says is one of the best is a bar I’d hate. I even notice that on the current list they say one bar serves “Belgian-style home brew.” Really? Is there any state in the Union where you can legally sell home brew to paying customers? Hell, I wish Oregon was one. I’d have a little lemonaid-style stand set up in front of my house this weekend selling pints of a very tasty Scottish ale I brewed up.
Rick says
oh dear… “You’re Having: Corona, Busch Light, Bud, PBR, Beer (and my favorite) ‘a cheap Bud'”… if that’s what I’m having these seem to be just about every bar I know of! Oh goodness. No Horse Brass, no O’briens, no Liars…
“According to Esquire” – evidently.
Sage says
Esquire Magazine is all about style, not substance. Making its “Best Bars” list has nothing to do with the quality or depth of your beverages, and everything to do with ambiance, entertainment and eye candy (preferably the female kind).
I’ve been to a number of the bars in their list, and while some are very stylish (and others a little ho hum), I always return to my local with its banged up pool table, well-worn bar and friendly (but none-to-attractive) bartenders because having 24 taps and 200 bottles of the world’s best craft brews beats an $8 Heineken and sterile “ambiance” every time.