Cork Whiskey Society Members Blog

What the Technical File Cannot Fix Part 2 By Oisín Mulcahy

Paul Costello — Thu, 01 Oct 2026 14:16:15 GMT

The Market Has Already Been Tested

The craft argument for single pot still was not unreasonable ten years ago. At that point, many new producers had not released mature whiskey of their own. The belief that single pot still could become Ireland’s answer to single malt was still largely a hypothesis.

But the intervening years have tested that hypothesis.

Smaller producers have released single pot still whiskeys. They have told the history, explained the mash bills and promoted the category’s uniquely Irish identity. Sales and marketing teams have taken that story to importers, distributors, retailers and consumers.

I doubt that many craft producers would now say their single pot still consistently outsells their blends or single malts.

Many distilleries continue to be supported by blends, gin, vodka, sourced whiskey or home-produced single malt. Pot still remains one of the most difficult products for sales and marketing teams to explain beyond a small group of initiated drinkers.

It may provide an excellent story for an importer or specialist retailer. It remains a difficult proposition for the eventual consumer.

Most consumers understand relatively few whiskey terms. Many recognise “single malt,” even if their understanding of it is imperfect. Almost everyone understands an age statement. A number on the front of a bottle communicates something immediate: time, maturity, rarity and, whether correctly or not, quality.

“Single pot still” does not offer the same immediate clarity.

The moment its appeal depends on an explanation of malted and unmalted barley, mash composition, historical taxation and copper pot distillation, the sale has already become harder. That education can be enjoyable among enthusiasts. It is a significant obstacle when somebody is choosing a bottle in seconds.

Single pot still may be a meaningful production category, but it has failed to become an effective marketing engine. After years of industry education, it still does not carry the weight of “single malt,” and I fear it never will.

The Jameson Experiment

The release of Jameson Single Pot Still in 2022 provides a particularly interesting example.

I cannot know the internal strategic reasoning behind the product, and I do not claim to. From the outside, however, it looked like an unusually clean test of the category’s supposed appeal.

Jameson brought one of the strongest names in global whiskey together with the term “single pot still.” Here was the name consumers already understood, placed alongside the category the industry had spent years describing as Ireland’s unique selling point.

If single pot still needed a vehicle capable of carrying it into the mainstream, it would be difficult to imagine a stronger one.

Roughly three years later, the same liquid was renamed Jameson Distiller’s Batch. “Single pot still” remained on the bottle, but it was no longer the principal product name. The category moved from the headline to the supporting copy.

Irish Distillers presented this as part of a broader redesign of the Jameson family, intended to create greater clarity and emphasise craftsmanship. That may be the entire explanation. I find the change revealing nonetheless.

My interpretation is that Jameson Single Pot Still tested whether the strength of Jameson could sell the term “single pot still” to a wider audience. The subsequent repositioning suggests that the production category was not carrying sufficient meaning on its own.

“Distiller’s Batch” communicates craft, selection and the role of the distiller without requiring the consumer to understand a technical definition.

That is not proof that the whiskey failed, nor that consumers disliked it. It suggests something more fundamental: the words “single pot still” may not have helped people understand why they should buy it.

This runs directly against the idea that the market has been demanding a broader pot still category.

The enthusiast market may have demanded it. Producers may have demanded it. Historians may have demonstrated why it is justified. Importers and distributors may welcome another distinctive Irish story.

The wider market has shown far less interest.

That does not make single pot still bad whiskey. It means the category name has failed to develop the buying power the craft industry assumed it would have.

A Definition Is Not a Business Model

This brings me back to the argument I made in my previous Oak Alchemy article. I do not want to repeat that argument in full here, but the essential point was that a craft whiskey business cannot be sustained solely by products positioned at the apex of the market.

Single malt and single pot still may represent some of the most prestigious products a distillery can make, but an apex requires a base.

Long-aged premium whiskey cannot provide the funding floor a young distillery needs unless some other product, activity or source of capital supports the years before that whiskey can be sold at meaningful scale.

Changing the Technical File does not solve that problem.

Consider the producer who has already laid down a substantial quantity of pot-distilled, mixed-mash-bill spirit which qualifies as Irish whiskey, but not as pot still Irish whiskey under the present definition.

The conventional argument is that broadening the Technical File would unlock the commercial potential of that stock by allowing the producer to place “single pot still” on the label.

I am not convinced that it would.

It would change the legal classification of the whiskey, but that does not necessarily give the bottle any greater selling power. That assumption only works if “single pot still” is already a description consumers recognise, understand and actively seek out.

My argument is that, outside a relatively small group of enthusiasts, it has repeatedly failed to become one.

The words “Irish whiskey” may therefore be a more commercially useful description than “single pot still Irish whiskey.” Irish whiskey is an established category with broad international recognition. It immediately tells the consumer where the product comes from and places it within a category they are likely to understand.

“Single pot still” adds specificity, but specificity is only commercially valuable when the customer understands what it means and considers it desirable.

Changing the words on the label does not change the liquid. More importantly, it does not change the customer.

A producer may feel that an important historical wrong has been corrected when their whiskey can finally be described as single pot still. The person buying the bottle may be entirely indifferent. In some circumstances, placing greater emphasis on an unfamiliar technical category may make the product more difficult, not easier, to sell.

The reform may nevertheless matter personally and philosophically to the producer. It may allow the spirit to be presented in a way that better reflects its production and historical inspiration. That is a legitimate reason to support it.

It should not be confused with unlocking a substantial new market.

Changing the Technical File will not create distribution, generate working capital or teach consumers why they should choose one unfamiliar Irish whiskey over hundreds of alternatives.

Nor does it answer the central question facing every small producer: what can we make consistently, at sufficient scale, for a price the market will pay?

For most of the industry, little will change. The largest volumes of pot still whiskey will continue to be made to achieve particular flavour profiles within established brands. Those whiskeys may contain pot still spirit without “pot still” being the decisive part of the consumer proposition.

What Consolidation Tells

This is why I increasingly see the modern Irish whiskey industry not simply as the diminished remnant of an older industry, but as a remarkable story of survival through consolidation.

The old industry was geographically dispersed. Numerous distilleries produced their own spirit, supported their own brands and carried the costs of their own production infrastructure. There is romance in that history, particularly when viewed from the present.

There was also duplication, fragmentation and inefficiency.

The industry that survived was built around a small number of highly capable manufacturing centres. Midleton, Bushmills and later Cooley could produce at scale while supporting multiple brands and styles.

Production was consolidated, but the market did not have to be served by a single brand. The manufacturing entity could achieve the efficiencies of scale while individual brands retained distinct identities and positions.

That was not merely the destruction of an older model. It was also a solution to the economic weaknesses within that model.

The modern craft industry is now attempting to reverse the process. Once again, we have numerous small producers, each operating its own facility, laying down relatively small parcels of spirit and attempting to establish one or more brands. Each must carry its own overheads, develop its own route to market and fund its own maturing stocks.

We are trying to recreate the fragmented industry whose economic weaknesses consolidation helped to resolve.

That does not mean small distilleries cannot survive, nor does it mean they should all make the same whiskey. It means that history deserves to be examined in its entirety.

We cannot romanticise the diversity of old mash bills while ignoring the commercial structure in which many of those recipes disappeared.

Learning the Wrong Lesson From History

The historical research into Irish mash bills is fascinating and valuable. It can recover lost knowledge, correct an incomplete definition and inspire worthwhile experiments.

But there is a danger that we are learning the wrong lesson from the history of whiskey.

Irish whiskey did not decline because its mash bills became insufficiently diverse. Its collapse involved political upheaval, lost export markets, Prohibition, trade barriers, damaged reputation, depleted stocks and an industry that struggled to adapt to a changing international market.

Scotch whisky’s later difficulties offer a related warning. The whisky loch of the 1980s was not caused by a lack of technical freedom or insufficient product variety. It followed years of optimism, overproduction and a subsequent fall in demand. Distilleries produced for a future market that did not materialise as expected, leaving the industry with excessive stocks and the closures that followed.

Whiskey is particularly vulnerable to this mistake because production decisions are made years before the resulting product can be sold. Confidence today becomes stock tomorrow, but the consumer does not make a promise to be waiting when that stock reaches maturity.

That is the historical lesson with the greatest relevance to the modern Irish craft industry.

The questions we should be asking are not only what grains distillers used in the nineteenth century. We should also ask why distilleries disappeared, why production consolidated, how successful brands achieved scale, what happens when supply outruns demand and how an industry survives the distance between making whiskey and finding somebody willing to buy it.

Those lessons may be less romantic than a recovered mash bill, but they are far more urgent.

History is evidence of tradition. It is not evidence of demand.

Returning to the Panel

After preparing for the Cork Whiskey Society panel, taking part in the discussion and having time afterward to consider the arguments made, my position is relatively straightforward.

I favour broadening the definition of pot still Irish whiskey.

The historical evidence supports it. Producers should be able to explore historically authentic mash bills containing larger proportions of oats, rye, wheat and other grains with a demonstrable place in the Irish tradition. Spirit made according to that tradition should not be excluded from the pot still subcategory merely because the present specification reflects a much narrower period of production.

If the question is whether the current Technical File offers a complete and historically satisfying definition of pot still Irish whiskey, my answer is no.

If the question is whether broadening that definition will materially change the fortunes of Irish whiskey, my answer is also no.

The proposed reform may settle a historical argument. It may give producers greater freedom. It may allow a small quantity of existing spirit to carry a different description. It may encourage worthwhile experimentation and produce some excellent whiskeys.

But if the Technical File remains unchanged, the market for Irish whiskey will continue much as it does today. If it is broadened, the market for Irish whiskey will also continue much as it does today.

The major producers will continue making the products for which there is established demand. Smaller producers will continue relying on blends, single malt, sourced whiskey, white spirits, tourism and other sources of revenue. Pot still will continue to produce excellent whiskey while remaining difficult to communicate beyond the initiated consumer.

That is the central point I took away from the Cork Whiskey Society panel.

We have spent years treating the Technical File as though it were standing between Irish whiskey and some unrealised commercial future. I no longer believe that it is.

Perhaps the Technical File has occupied so much of our attention because it offers an unusually attractive kind of problem. It is specific, external and potentially fixable. Change the percentages, recognise the grains and declare the category liberated.

The harder problems are less romantic. They involve capital, stock, efficiency, distribution, consumer understanding and the uncomfortable requirement to produce enough of something people actually want.

The definition should be broadened because doing so would be historically honest, not because it will save craft distilling, unlock a mass market or transform single pot still into Ireland’s answer to single malt.

We should correct the definition. We should recognise the history. We should make the whiskeys and discover what they have to offer.

But whether the Technical File changes or not, the difficult work facing Irish whiskey will remain exactly where it was.

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By Oisín Mulcahy · Launched a year ago

Musing on the spirits industry from an independent spirits expert. I discuss all things from the spirits market dynamics to the nitty gritty of production, blending and lots more.

What the Technical File Cannot Fix. Part 1 By Oisín Mulcahy

Paul Costello — Thu, 01 Oct 2026 13:59:03 GMT

When I was invited to take part in the Cork Whiskey Society’s panel discussion on the proposed changes to the definition of pot still Irish whiskey, my first thought was surprisingly simple: what do I actually think about this? Not about being invited to discuss the topic, but about the proposed changes to the Technical File itself.

The fact that I had to ask myself the question was telling.

The definition of pot still Irish whiskey has been a cornerstone of discussion within the craft distilling industry for as long as I have been part of it, and for some time before that. The limitations of the Technical File, the historical evidence for broader mash bills and the campaign to have those mash bills recognised have become something of a rallying cry. If you worked in Irish whiskey, particularly within the craft end of the industry, you were expected to understand that the definition was too narrow and that changing it was important.

I had broadly accepted that position for years. Initially, my adoption of it was partly a case of not knowing enough to think otherwise. There was also an eagerness to go along with the cool kids and avoid appearing to be outside the inner circle.

It was only when I was invited to discuss the subject publicly that I had to examine whether I still believed it and, more importantly, what exactly I believed changing the definition would achieve.

In preparing for the panel, I arrived at two conclusions.

The first was that I support broadening the definition. If the purpose of the Technical File is partly to recognise and protect the historical tradition of Irish whiskey, then the definition of pot still should reflect what Irish distillers historically made. The surviving evidence demonstrates that the tradition encompassed a much broader range of grains and proportions than the present specification allows. As an exercise in historical accuracy, recognition and experimentation, the case for reform is persuasive.

My second conclusion was that whether the definition is broadened or remains exactly as it is will be largely inconsequential to the commercial future of Irish whiskey.

Those positions are not contradictory. One concerns whether the definition is historically honest. The other concerns whether changing it will persuade anybody to buy more whiskey.

Preparing to Rival Single Malt

When I first began working in the industry at Dingle Distillery, I was introduced to single pot still whiskey as both a production method and an idea. At the time, it seemed clear that single pot still was preparing to give single malt a run for its money.

The logic was compelling. Scotland had single malt, a distinctive category with global recognition, strong provenance and enormous premium potential. Ireland had single pot still, a style of whiskey unique to Ireland, rooted in our distilling history and capable of producing outstanding spirit.

Redbreast had already demonstrated the quality and commercial possibilities. If the emerging distilleries could reclaim the broader historical tradition, surely single pot still could become the product that distinguished Irish whiskey internationally.

Like many people entering the industry, I found that argument persuasive. I did not yet know enough to question it.

I accepted the idea that broader historical mash bills would naturally produce more interesting whiskey. I accepted that the current definition, with its prescribed proportions of malted and unmalted barley and its limited allowance for other cereals, represented a constrained and somewhat boring interpretation of the category.

Somewhere in Irish whiskey’s past, we were told, there was a richer and more diverse version of pot still waiting to be rediscovered.

Historical recipes containing oats, rye, wheat and other grains appeared to offer almost unlimited possibilities. Once the Technical File changed, distillers would be free to recover those possibilities. A new generation of pot still whiskeys would emerge, consumers would embrace them and the category would finally fulfil its potential.

It seemed almost inevitable.

The Cork Whiskey Society discussion helped crystallise how far my thinking had moved since then.

During the panel, one of my fellow panellists pointed to the research undertaken by Dr Fionnán O’Connor. That research has demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt that broader historical mash bills existed and formed part of the Irish distilling tradition.

I do not disagree with that. The historical case has been made.

What I questioned was the leap from historical evidence to market demand.

Proving that Irish distillers once used a broader variety of grains demonstrates that the current definition does not adequately represent the historical category. It supports the argument for changing the Technical File. It does not prove that this is what the market wants.

Those are entirely separate propositions.

The existence of a historical mash bill tells us that somebody once made it. It does not tell us why they made it, whether it represented a deliberate pursuit of flavour or a response to the economics and agricultural conditions of the time, whether it could be produced efficiently today, or whether a modern consumer would choose to buy it.

Most importantly, it does not prove that changing the Technical File will create demand where demand does not currently exist.

A Niche Within a Niche Within a Niche

This distinction can be difficult to see from inside the craft distilling industry because craft Irish whiskey is a niche within a niche within a niche.

We spend much of our time speaking to other producers, enthusiasts, whiskey societies, specialist retailers, importers and distributors. These are people who care about unusual mash bills, production details, heritage and points of distinction. Their interest is genuine, but it is not necessarily representative of the person who eventually stands in front of a shelf and decides which bottle to buy.

Importers and distributors have good reasons to be interested in what makes a small producer different from the larger companies. They already have access to established Irish whiskey brands. If they are considering another one, they naturally want a distinctive story, whether that involves unusual grains, a revived recipe, local provenance or a production method that cannot be found elsewhere in their portfolio.

That interest can create a powerful signal. A producer repeatedly hears that difference is valuable, that heritage is attractive and that the market wants new stories. Eventually, it becomes easy to interpret this as evidence of consumer demand.

But an importer wanting an interesting proposition is not the same as a consumer wanting the product.

A compelling pitch may get a bottle into a catalogue, into a meeting or even onto a shelf. It does not necessarily get that bottle off the shelf. The things that interest an importer looking for a point of difference are not always the things that persuade an ordinary consumer to spend their money.

Within the craft industry, we are sometimes guilty of assuming that our own narrow interests are representative of the wider market. We mistake the enthusiasm of the initiated for the appetite of the public.

The same thing happens when producers speak to one another. We naturally enjoy talking about production. We are interested in different grains, fermentation, still design, cut points and cask policy. These are important subjects, but our fascination with them can create a distorted sense of their commercial importance.

The customer does not experience the years of discussion, experimentation and production that went into the bottle. The customer sees a label, a price and perhaps a few familiar words.

That is a very different encounter with the product.

When the Recipe Meets Production

As I progressed through the industry, particularly as I became more involved in production, my view began to change. The further I moved into production, the less inevitable the promised pot still revolution appeared.

My background in brewing had already given me plenty of experience with adjuncts and alternative grains. In brewing, changing the grain bill can have an immediate and obvious effect on the finished beer. Grain affects flavour, texture, colour, fermentation and practically every part of the process.

I do not dispute that different grains can also affect whiskey. Of course they can. What I began to question was the importance being assigned to that effect once it was placed alongside every other variable involved in making mature whiskey.

Mash composition is only one part of a much larger production system. Fermentation regime, yeast, equipment, distillation rate, reflux, cut points, spirit strength, cask type, previous cask contents, warehouse conditions and maturation time all influence what eventually reaches the glass.

By the time spirit has passed through that entire process, it is not obvious to me that increasing the proportion of oats or adding rye will automatically produce something more distinctive, or better, than a well-made whiskey using the existing pot still mash bill.

More importantly, the conversation about historical mash bills often stops at the recipe. Production cannot.

A distiller looking at ten possible mash bills does not merely see ten creative opportunities. They see ten raw material specifications, ten production schedules and ten separate parcels of spirit that will have to be tracked through years of maturation.

Different grains may require different handling, storage and milling arrangements. Every additional grain has to be sourced, received and stored, potentially requiring a separate silo or another workable storage solution. Switching between mash bills creates logistical complications, affects yields and may require changes throughout the production process.

The less efficient a production run becomes, the more expensive the resulting spirit becomes. That may be manageable for an occasional special release. It is a different matter if the product is expected to provide the commercial foundation of a distillery.

Then there is the much larger problem: nobody knows which of those whiskeys consumers will want.

Imagine that a small distillery divides its annual pot still production across ten historical mash bills. Several years later, one of them reaches the market and becomes considerably more popular than the others. The distillery cannot travel back in time and produce more of it. It has already divided its limited production capacity across nine other experiments.

By discovering the product people want, it may simultaneously discover that it does not have enough of that product to build a sustainable brand.

That problem is particularly acute for a small producer. Large businesses can afford experimentation because their core production continues to provide scale and revenue. For a craft distillery, every experimental batch represents production capacity, working capital and years in wood.

Producing ten interesting whiskeys is not the same as building one successful whiskey brand.

Eventually, commercial reality begins to narrow the supposedly unlimited creative possibilities. Distillers make more of what sells. Unsuccessful recipes disappear or become occasional releases. Production consolidates around the mash bill that offers the most attractive combination of flavour, consistency, yield, scalability and consumer demand.

Even with a broader Technical File, therefore, the market may lead producers back towards a relatively narrow range of mash bills.

The fact that a recipe is historically authentic does not make it commercially desirable. History may tell us that something was made. It does not guarantee that it should become a core product today.

What Does Redbreast Actually Prove?

Redbreast is frequently presented as proof of the commercial potential of single pot still whiskey. It is an extraordinary whiskey and an extraordinary brand, but I am no longer convinced that its success proves what we often claim it proves.

Are people buying Redbreast principally because it says “single pot still” on the label? Or are they buying it because it is mature, rich, consistent and extremely well made? Are they buying a production category, or are they buying Redbreast?

I suspect that its age, flavour, quality and reputation are doing far more of the work than its technical classification.

Redbreast also exists within the Irish Distillers portfolio. It benefits from the reputation, route to market, production capability and distribution infrastructure built around Jameson and Midleton. Its success cannot be separated from that environment.

It does not have to establish the credibility of Irish whiskey from nothing in every new market. It travels along roads that have already been built.

Redbreast has exceeded 100,000 cases in annual sales, an impressive achievement for a premium whiskey. Jameson, by comparison, sells roughly ten million cases. That relationship matters. Jameson creates reach, recognition and commercial mass, while Redbreast occupies the premium space above it.

Yet many investments in craft Irish distilling were made by looking at Redbreast and performing a seemingly reasonable calculation. Redbreast sells 100,000 cases. If a new distillery could capture only one per cent of that, the business could work.

The critical mistake was deciding that Redbreast succeeded because it was single pot still, and then making single pot still the central production, marketing and strategic priority of the new business.

The wider structure of Irish Distillers tells us something different.

Midleton is a finely tuned production facility supporting a carefully positioned portfolio of brands. The quantities it produces largely reflect the quantities the market consumes. Jameson is not produced in enormous volume because somebody decided that blended whiskey ought to be the future of the industry. It is produced in enormous volume because that is what people buy. One reason they buy it is that it targets a far larger pool of prospective buyers who can afford it.

Within the portfolio, brands are positioned to meet different demands rather than compete needlessly with one another. Jameson supplies scale, recognition and accessibility. Redbreast occupies a more premium, mature and flavour-led position. The Spot range occupies another space again.

Irish Distillers has no obvious incentive to persuade millions of Jameson drinkers to abandon a successful blend for a more expensive product that is slower and more costly to produce. Pot still whiskey has a role within the portfolio, but that role is determined by the market rather than by an abstract belief that pot still ought to be the dominant category.

Because so much of Irish whiskey production and so many important brands are consolidated at Midleton, its output offers one of the clearest available pictures of how the wider market actually behaves.

The volumes are not the result of wishful thinking. They represent products people are buying.

Following on in part 2