In recent weeks, questions have been raised about the ethics of food media in Australia, particularly in The Sydney Morning Herald And Age Good food guideswhich I write for, and this masthead publishes. This is largely due to the publication of Melbourne chef Ben Shewry’s memoirs. Uses for Obsessionhis publicity interviews and public appearances as well as a post on Instagram.

Shewry claims that restaurant reviewing is unethical and contributes to intense pressure on the restaurant industry, and that it is a flawed system run by inexperienced reviewers.

It’s definitely selfish of me to defend restaurant reviews. But in the face of current discussions and negative reactions against my profession, it seems cowardly to remain silent.

Criticism is my life’s work, the thing I’ve spent decades thinking about, the means by which I examine the places I live and the culture by which those places are defined. It’s not a perfect art – it’s perhaps not an art at all – but it’s not something I take lightly either.

First, let me acknowledge that there are many critiques to be made when it comes to the media – more broadly, as well as in the area of ​​restaurant media coverage. No industry or publication is perfect. No rating system is flawless. Shewry tapped into the sentiment of an industry that feels vilified by forces over which it has no control.

I have no desire to go to war with Ben. I have long admired his restaurant Ripponlea, both privately and in also extremely publicly. Others have takes stock that he only became disillusioned with the system of reviews and hats when, in 2022, his restaurant fell from the top three chef’s hats in the world. Good food guide to two, but I’m not sure how relevant that is.

Many of us are happy with systems that work for us until they cease to be useful, and any healthy system should be able to withstand criticism, including criticism itself. I welcome the discussion about how the media should cover the restaurant industry responsibly – if I didn’t, I would be a hypocrite of the highest order.

But it became clear that some sort of response was needed when, last weekend, Shewry posted a message on Instagram that did what he set out to do: draw much of the attention to this year’s event. Good food guide awards the next day (Monday, November 18) away from his winners and on himself, and yes, on the book he is trying to sell.

In his message he admitted his bizarre hypothesis that Attica would be excluded from the Guide because of the opinions he expressed in his book. Instead, he had been “awkwardly” invited to the awards, meaning Attique had been included in this year’s prize. Guide. The timing of his post was interesting: invitations to the awards night went out on October 10, meaning Shewry had known about the restaurant’s inclusion for at least five weeks.

By timing his release to coincide with the awards ceremony, Shewry cast a cloud over this year’s winners, stealing their moment of success to promote his own agenda. He spent many years attending these awards, posing for photos, being interviewed by this masthead, and giving heartfelt speeches. Where was his indignation then? And why does he feel so confident in stealing this moment of joy from an industry that sorely needs some positivity right now?

As a member of the senior committee of Age Good food guideI can tell you that the inclusion of Attica has never been questioned. Why would he assume that was the case? Its inclusion proves that places are not admitted or avoided for political or personal reasons. We know he doesn’t love us; we don’t care. His restaurant is very good and diners deserve to know more. After all, we do what we do for the readers, not the bosses.

We do not ask permission from restaurateurs or chefs to include their establishment in the Guide a bit like film critics don’t ask permission to review a film. It is produced independently for the public, outside of pressure, positive or negative.

Shewry claims we have no ethics. But the Guide editors give each reviewer a literal ethics guide before beginning the review. (You can read more here.) Did he ask if we had a moral framework before loudly proclaiming that we didn’t? He didn’t do it.

When a restaurant wins or loses a hat, a group of the Guide’s most experienced critics discuss it with passion and thoughtfulness, and yes, with empathy. We have internal disagreements, sometimes vehement. We debate, revisit, tie knots to make sure we can stick to our decisions.

Do the food media have too much power? Maybe, although it’s debatable. I believe we are much more likely to create a room than to destroy it. We rarely write completely negative reviews, and accolades mean far more to readers – and diners – than the lack of them.

But I also wonder what the alternative is to a carefully researched, edited and fact-checked journal. If guides, reviews, and awards suddenly disappeared, would something better take their place? Or do bosses and owners want influencers and marketers to be paid to say that wonderful things could be a good substitute for journalism? Does Shewry want the whole conversation to feel like the flattering echo chamber of his Instagram comments section?

Reviews represent, above all, the concerns of the restaurant public. The good ones know how to take into account the realities of a difficult sector.

What I love most about my job is that it allows me to fully immerse myself in the vision and ambitions of the people I admire and ask them if there is anything they could do to achieve those goals. ambitions more fully. Shewry asks what other industry is so mercilessly subject to public criticism (to which I would answer: almost all of the arts), but I would turn that question around: in what other profession would you have someone – paid by an outside entity – take weeks to think about your goals, your passions and try to seriously highlight the areas in which these ambitions are successful and the areas in which you could do better?

I don’t pretend that all critics work from this perspective, nor that these opinions should be cherished by the subject, but I can say that my sincere goal is to help restaurants be the best version of themselves. Yes, I also try to help consumers decide where to dine. A good review does both.

If a leader thinks a review is decent and writes in good faith, that leader should take reviews as intended: a chance to read a clear opinion from someone who has no reason to pander unnecessarily, to accept what that is useful and ignore the rest. .

It is absolutely right that the hospitality industry demands better from the media. We need to listen, try to improve, and be grateful when someone points out something that we may not see from the inside. I always strive to be open to this conversation. And believe it or not, the publications I work for do the same. We spend hours discussing how to improve, how to better serve our audience and the industry, what is right, what is wrong, and how we can do our jobs ethically . I would not align myself with any organization that refused to do so.

And you, Shewry and your mother’s best friend may disagree with our choices. But pretending that restaurant reviews or Guide Editors and reviewers do this work without thought or ethical consideration, it is simply patently wrong.