Why I Returned to Halliday Wine Companion – and Why I Left
In March 2022 I received a call from James Halliday. Out of the blue, he asked me to return to the Halliday Wine Companion fold, where I’d worked on and off for a decade or more. The offer was to return as the Halliday Wine Companion chief editor – of the book principally but by extension, of the website too. I’d been away from the Halliday organisation for a couple of years, during which I’d written and published my long lost novel. I had several other projects I was keen to get on with too, not the least being an attempt to take The Winefront up a gear.
If the call had come from anyone else, I would have said Thanks but no thanks. But I’m a sucker for James Halliday, and I am for the right reasons. I admire him. I respect him. And I owe him, for starters. But the bond is deeper than that. We come from opposite sides of the tracks, but we see each other. We understand. A lot of things never even need to be said; we both just know what needs to be done, and why, and how.
This is a long way of saying, I’m loyal to James. I love him but more than that, I’m loyal to him. I’m loyal to the Halliday office at Coldstream.
In June 2022 therefore I returned to the Halliday Wine Companion team. The Halliday Wine Companion book is a central and crucial figure in the landscape of Australian wine but more importantly, it’s James Halliday’s – to use his words – “life’s work”. I returned because I wanted to protect it.
I thought, when I stepped into Halliday’s chief editor chair, that I’d work in the role for at least five years, but possibly for more than ten. I was genuine in my desire to steer the Halliday ship to an enduring future, beyond James’ direct involvement. Instead, I only lasted two years. For most of this two years I had weekly contact with James Halliday himself, even though he was in the process of stepping back from the business. James’ care for his Halliday Wine Companion ran deep. Every single conversation I had with James was about maintaining the quality standards. It was about refusing to compromise. There were times – to be honest – when James’ standards and refusal to compromise were, let’s just say, a cause of frustration. But never for a second did I waver from admiring him for it.
And then James’s health deteriorated. I had conversations with him, again on the phone, whilst he was in hospital. I was away, overseas, celebrating my wife’s 50th birthday, when a note came through to announce that James was retiring not just in part, but in full, officially. I read this note at a bus stop in the blazing Greek sun. I wrote in the article [The day that I never wanted to come] that “Halliday is irreplaceable”. I meant it. This phrase did not weigh on me at first. But it came to.
When my initial two-year contract was up, I assumed that I would renew and that I would continue in the role. A new contract was put in front of me, and I could have done just that. But the terms of the contract weren’t favourable, and in a mental whirl of disappointment, and with James Halliday no longer involved, and more importantly – in the absence of James Halliday’s calming or authoritative hand, that phrase “James Halliday is irreplaceable” bore down on me.
James Halliday was and is irreplaceable for many reasons and one of them was that he never compromised.
So I left. At first I was embarrassed to tell James of my decision, essentially because it felt as though I was letting him down. But eventually I did contact him, and did let him know. To my great relief he wasn’t surprised and, even, he gave me his blessing. He had himself gone off on his own, several decades prior, and bolstered his own personal brand and his own personal business, in his own way, in the way that he knew was right; I was, in effect, following in his footsteps, as I’d always planned and hoped to do.
This is the view from James Halliday’s old tasting room, atop the Coldstream Hills winery.
