Loyalty is a broader concept than trust. Loyalty can be based on trust, typically long-standing trust, but can also be based on other things. Thus, loyalty to one’s country or football team, or to a tyrant, is based on something quite other than trust. Certain pets may offer the illusion of trust, but more properly offer loyalty.
The word ‘loyal’ is related to the word ‘legal’ and has, or had, feudal connotations, akin to ‘allegiance’ but with more feeling or personal involvement. Still today, loyalty is often to something that is greater than or beyond us. To call someone loyal can be slightly demeaning, whereas to call someone trustworthy is invariably ennobling.
Trust may be associated with love, and, especially with romantic love, can be a prerequisite for love. But it is entirely possible to love someone, and even to rely on his love, without also trusting him—as we often do, for example, with children. Conversely, we often trust people, such as doctors and judges, who do not love or even sympathize with us.
We can rely on someone to be a certain way or do certain things, such as turn up on time, get angry, or lose our keys. But trust is more than mere reliability, or, as we have seen, mere loyalty. Instead, trust is established when I ask or allow a suitable candidate to take at least some responsibility for something that I value, thereby making myself vulnerable to her, and she agrees to take that responsibility, or, in the circumstances, can reasonably be expected to do so.
I trust my doctor with my health because, by virtue of being a doctor, and my doctor, she has taken some responsibility for my health—and, of course, I have asked or allowed her to do so. But even then, my trust in my doctor is not all-embracing: given the kind of person that she is, and the nature of our compact, I can trust her with my health, but not, say, with my housekeeping or my finances.
My doctor may well one day decide, for one reason or another, to stop caring for my health, but I would expect her to regretfully make me aware of this fact, and maybe to make transitional arrangements so as to protect the thing that I value and entrusted her with, in this case, my health. If she withdrew herself in this measured and considerate manner, I would feel sad, disappointed, and perhaps annoyed, but I would not feel betrayed or let down, or, at least, not nearly as much as I would otherwise have.
The French for trust is confiance, which, like the English ‘confidence’, literally means ‘with faith’. Perhaps we cannot trust people not to let us down, other than by a leap of faith similar to belief in God, with the length of the leap determined by such factors as fear, habit, nature, reason, and love. But we can just about trust them—or some of them—not to mislead us, and to let us down lightly.
Some of the cellar walls at Nikolaihof in Wachau were built by the Romans. Schloss Gobelsburg in Kamptal is still owned, though no longer operated, by Cistercian monks. In 1985, it emerged that a few Austrian wine brokers had been adulterating their light and acidic wines with diethylene glycol to increase body and sweetness. This ‘antifreeze scandal’ hit the international headlines, almost completely destroying the reputation of Austrian wine. In the following years, Austria turned away from medium-sweet mass-market wines and, like the phoenix rising, reinvented itself as a producer of quality wines.
The lie of the land
Austria’s four wine regions of Niederösterreich (Lower Austria), Burgenland, Wien (Vienna), and Steiermark (Styria) are all in the east of the country, bordering on the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, and Slovenia. Lower Austria, Burgenland, and Styria are divided into districts, of which there are, including Vienna, a total of 16. Burgenland sits on the edge of the vast Pannonian Plain, and is much flatter than the other three regions. Soils are very diverse, even within a single region; but the most important or prevalent soils are a varying thickness of loess over gneiss in Lower Austria, sand over limestone in Burgenland, and clay over limestone in Styria.
Austria is a landlocked country with a frankly continental climate marked by cold winters and hot summers. Autumns are long, enabling grapes to ripen and sweet wines to be made. High diurnal temperature variation throughout the growing season promotes concentration of sugar and phenolics while preserving natural acidity. In Lower Austria, the Danube and its tributaries moderate temperatures, as does, in Burgenland, the Neusiedlersee (Lake Neusiedl), which also creates the conditions for noble rot. Burgenland in particular also benefits from warm easterlies from the Pannonian Plain. Many vines in Austria (although not those dedicated to the finest wines) are trained high on the Lenz Moser system, which offers some frost protection and reduces labour costs.
Austrian wines are mostly dry white wines, although sweeter white wines are also made. 26 varieties are permitted for quality white wine, but the best are made from Grüner Veltliner, Riesling, or Chardonnay, with Grüner by far the most planted variety. In valleys like Wachau and Kremstal, Grüner tends to be planted on moisture-retaining loamy soils, and Riesling on higher, drier stone terraces. Other important white varieties are Welschriesling (unrelated to Riesling), Pinot Blanc (Weißburgunder), and Sauvignon Blanc. Red wines account for ~30% of production, and are most often made from Blaufränkisch and local varieties such as Zweigelt (Blaufränkisch x Saint Laurent). Although plantings are fairly small, Pinot Noir (Blauburgunder) punches above its weight on the export market. In total, 14 varieties are permitted for quality red wine.
There are three separate classifications operating in Austria. The traditional classification is modelled on that of Germany, with four principal levels based on must weights: Tafelwein, Landwein, Qualitätswein, and Prädikatswein. The bulk of production is either Qualitätswein or Prädikatswein; given the choice, many producers prefer to label their wine as Qualitätswein to circumvent a German style of labelling. In addition to Kabinett (which in Austria is included under Qualitätswein rather than Prädikatswein), Spätlese, Auslese, Beerenauslese, Trockenbeerenauslese, and Eiswein, there are two additional styles, Ausbruch (‘break out’) and Strohwein (‘straw wine’). Traditionally, Ausbruch is made by adding grape must or late harvest wine to shrivelled botrytized grapes to ‘break out’ the sugars and facilitate fermentation. These days most Ausbruch is made just like Trockenbeerenauslese, but with a minimum must weight of 27°instead of 30° on the Klosterneuburg Must Weight Scale. For each classification level, minimum must weights are higher than in Germany. As in Germany, chaptalization is permitted for Qualitätswein, although not for the higher level of Kabinett. Unlike in Germany, the addition of Sußreserve is not permitted for Prädikatswein.
In addition, most of Austria’s 16 wine regions adhere to a geographical appellation system, Districtus Austriae Controllatus (DAC), first introduced in 2003 and comprising three ascending levels: Gebietswein (regional wine), Ortswein (villages wine), and Riedenwein (single vineyard wine). As with other geographical appellation systems, each DAC has specific requirements intended to bring out the particular characteristics of a recognized regional style. The DACs include Kremstal (for Riesling and Grüner), Kamptal (Riesling and Grüner), Traisental (Riesling and Grüner), Wiener Gemischter Satz (various white varieties in a blend), Weinviertel (Grüner), Leithaberg (Grüner, Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay, Neuberger, Blaufränkisch), Neusiedlersee (Zweigelt: 100% Zweigelt for Klassik, and at least 60% for Reserve Cuvée Blend), Mittelburgenland (Blaufränkisch), and Eisenberg (Blaufränkisch). The DAC system is still in a state of flux.
The Wachau operates a separate classification, the Vinea Wachau Nobilis Districtus. This has three ascending categories, all for dry wines, defined by the maturity of the grapes: Steinfeder, Federspiel, and Smaragd, the last, Smaragd, named after an emerald lizard of the vineyards. Outside Wachau, the Association of Austrian Traditional Wine Estates is working with the German VDP to classify the vineyards of the Danube region (‘Donauraum’), including Kamptal, Kremstal, and Traisental.
Lower Austria is the country’s largest and most important wine region, accounting for eight of the sixteen districts and over half of production. The extreme west of the region boasts the small and premium district of Wachau, with vineyards on steep terraces that stretch along the Danube from Melk to Krems. Wachau can be divided into Upper, Middle, and Eastern—or ‘Lower’, but the locals, being Catholic, prefer ‘Eastern’. The cool continental influence is stronger in Upper Wachau, while the warm Pannonian influence is stronger in Eastern Wachau, where the valley is also wider. Wachau is famous for its rich and concentrated Grüners and Rieslings. The district is home to a large but highly rated co-operative, the Freie Weingärtner Wachau. Immediately to the east of Wachau is Kremstal, where the Danube valley opens up into gently rolling hills. Like Wachau, Kremstal is especially noted for its Grüners and Rieslings, which qualify for the Kremstal DAC. To the north-east of Kremstal is Kamptal, which stretches out around Langenlois with the best vineyards on steep south-facing terraces overlooking the River Kamp. These vineyards are especially suited to Riesling, with both Rieslings and Grüners qualifying for the Kamptal DAC. Closer to the Danube, the side valley opens up and black varieties become more common. Wagram stretches from Kamptal to Vienna along the Danube. The deep loess soils are particularly suited to Grüner although other varieties are also planted. Founded in 1114, Klosterneuburg Abbey in the east of the district is one of the oldest and largest wine estates in Austria. To the west of Wagram and south of Wachau, Kremstal, and Kamptal lies the small district of Traisental. Grüner, Riesling, and other varieties are cultivated on steep terraces overlooking the River Traisen, with Grüners and Rieslings qualifying for the Traisental DAC.
The Weinviertel (‘Wine Quarter’) is the largest district in Lower Austria and indeed Austria, accounting for about half of plantings in Lower Austria and one-third of plantings in Austria. The land is mostly flat and fertile and given to Grüner, which is made in a fresh and fruity style. However, there are some more interesting terroirs being cultivated by quality producers such as Graf Hardegg and Pfaffl: at Graf Hardegg, I tasted a 25-year-old Grüner that had developed notes of fennel, honey, toffee, toast, and cognac, and still looked youthful. Many other varieties are cultivated in the Weinviertel, but in much smaller quantities. Sekt is made from Riesling and Grüner in the far north-east around Poysdorf.
South of the Weinviertel and of the Danube lies the hilly district of Carnuntum. With its deep soils and warmer climate, Carnuntum is particularly suited to black varieties, with Blaufränkisch and Zweigelt dominating plantings. To the south-west of Carnuntum is Thermenregion, named after Roman thermal baths. Thermenregion is noted for a white wine blend of indigenous varieties Zierfandler (Spätrot) and Rotgipler. Black varieties are also cultivated, Portugieser first among them.
Vienna is fiercely proud of its 640ha of vineyards. Land on the left (northern) bank of the Danube is mainly planted to Grüner, Chardonnay, Riesling, and Pinot Blanc, and on the right bank to black varieties. Though it has its crus, Vienna is noted for Gemischter Satz DAC, a blend of several varieties cultivated en foule in the same vineyard. Punters can drink the latest vintage of Gemischter Satz by the jug in one of the city’s many wine taverns or Heurigen, which are signposted with sprigs of pine over the door.
Burgenland is home to four DACs: Neusiedlersee, Leithaberg, Mittelburgenland, and Eisenberg. The Neusiedlersee district in the north of the region is reputed for its botrytized wines made from Welschriesling or a number of other varieties other than Riesling (sometimes in a blend). However, the Neusiedlersee DAC is exclusively for red wines dominated by Zweigelt. To the west, on the opposite shore of the lake, which is never deeper than 1.8m, is Neusiedlersee-Hügelland (‘Hill Country’). This district of diverse terrains produces sweet white wines (including the renowned Ruster Ausbruch, Austria’s best answer to Tokaji), dry white wines, and dry red wines. The Leithaberg DAC is for white wines made from Grüner, Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay, and Neuberger, and red wines made from Blaufränkisch. The DAC covers an area of limestone and slate soils connected with the Leitha Mountains, west of Lake Neusiedl. Chardonnay from certain Leithaberg vineyards, such as the limestone-rich Gloria, might well be mistaken for top Burgundy. Mittelburgenland, nicknamed ‘Blaufränkischland’, on the Pannonian Plain is the spiritual home of Blaufränkisch, which accounts for more than half of the district’s plantings. The other DAC for Blaufränkisch is Eisenberg (‘Iron Mountain’), to the south in the small district of Südburgenland, which is noted for its soils of slate and ferrous loam.
‘Weinland Osterreich’ consists of Lower Austria and Burgenland, which together account for more than 90% of Austria’s vineyard area. The main motive for this legal construct is to enable Landwein to be blended across a very large area.
Styria stands out for its small size, rugged terrain, and warmer and wetter climate, with marked diurnal temperature variation. The bulk of production is consumed locally. The soils of South-East Styria (Südoststeiermark) are largely volcanic in origin, lending themselves to the cultivation of varieties from the Traminer family, although, of course, other varieties are also planted. The wines are crisp, aromatic, and full-bodied with notes of spice and mineral. South Styria is very mountainous, with vineyards planted on steep, south-facing slopes. The district is reputed for its Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay (‘Morillon’) and noted for its ‘Junker’ (young, fruity wines). West Styria counts only 500ha of vines. It is known for Schilcher, a cult rosé-style wine of searing acidity made from the indigenous Blauer Wildbacher grape. From the 2018 vintage, all three Styrian regions can claim DAC status.
Like Alsatian Riesling, which it most resembles, Austrian Riesling is dry with high acidity, medium-to-high alcohol, and pronounced minerality. However, it is typically less austere and dominated by riper stone fruit. ‘Hints of lime’ is another common tasting note. Riesling from Kremstal and Kamptal is often fuller than that from Wachau.
The vegetal, peppery Grüner Veltlineris very much an Austrian speciality. It is produced in a range of styles and qualities, and is often reminiscent of Burgundy or Alsace. Grüner from Wachau is pale gold with hints of green. It is typically dry with notes of celery, white pepper, spice, and minerals. Depending on ripeness, fruit can range from apple and grapefruit to distinctly tropical fruits. Body is medium to full, acidity is high, alcohol is medium-high or high, and oak is typically absent. The best examples can develop honeyed and toasty aromas with age. Grüner Veltliner from Kremstal and Kamptal is often fuller than that from Wachau.
Blaufränkish is usually dark purple in colour with notes of red currants or cherries, blackberry, pepper and spice, and liquorice. On the palate, body is medium, acidity high, alcohol medium, and tannins firm and grippy. Some examples are aged in new French oak. Blaufränkisch is sometimes blended with other varieties such as Zweigelt, in which case it contributes acidity and structure to the blend. Owing to the red, iron-rich soils, Blaufränkisch from Eisenberg is typically spicier than that from Mittelburgenland.
Zweigelt is fresh and fruit-driven. It is often deep ruby in colour, with notes of red cherries and soft spice such as cinnamon and nutmeg. On the palate, it is light-to-medium bodied with a supple acidity reminiscent of Barbera (but less high), medium alcohol, and soft and subtle tannins. Oak is usually absent.
Top producers in Austria include Franz Hirtzberger, Knoll, Nikolaihof, FX Pichler, Rudi Pichler, and Prager in Wachau; Bründlmayer, Schloss Gobelsburg, and Loimer in Kamptal; Felsner, Malat, Sepp Moser, and Nigl in Kremstal; Graf Hardegg and Pfaffl in Weinviertel; Feiler Artinger, Gesellmann, Gernot und Heike Heinrich, Kollwentz, Kracher, and Poeckle in Burgenland; and Tement in South Styria. Although top Rieslings and Grüners can evolve with age, most Austrian wines are destined for early drinking, and there is not the same emphasis on vintage as in some other regions.
The history, psychology, and philosophy of cynicism
Cynics often come across as contemptuous, irritating, and dispiriting. But they are the first to suffer from their cynicism. They can miss out on the things, such as friendship or love, that make a life worth living. They tend to hold back from the public sphere, leading to a reduced social and economic contribution and relative poverty and isolation—which, along with their pessimism, can predispose them to depression and other ills. Their cynicism seems self-fulfilling: by always assuming the worst about everyone, they tend to bring it out, and not least, perhaps, in themselves.
Diogenes the Cynic
But cynicism also has brighter sides. To understand these, it helps to take a look at the long and distinguished history of cynicism. The first Cynic appears to have been the Athenian philosopher Antisthenes (445-365 BCE), who had been an ardent disciple of Socrates. Then came Diogenes, the paradigm of the Cynic, who took the simple life of Socrates to such an extreme that Plato called him “a Socrates gone mad.”
The people of Athens abused Diogenes, calling him a dog and spitting in his face. But in this he took pride rather than offense. He held that human beings had much to learn from the simplicity and artlessness of dogs, which, unlike human beings, had not “complicated every simple gift of the gods.” The terms cynic and cynical derive from the Greek kynikos, which is the adjective of kyon, or ‘dog’.
Diogenes placed reason and nature firmly above custom and convention, which he held to be incompatible with happiness. It is natural for human beings to act in accord with reason, and reason dictates that human beings should live in accord with nature. Rather than giving up their time and efforts in the pursuit of wealth, renown, and other worthless things, people should have the courage to live like animals or gods, revelling in life’s pleasures without bond or fear.
The stories surrounding Diogenes, though embellished, or because embellished, help to convey his spirit. Diogenes wore a simple cloak which he doubled up in winter, begged for food, and sheltered in a tub. He made it his mission to challenge custom and convention, those “false coins of morality.” Upon being challenged for masturbating in the marketplace, he mused, “If only it were so easy to soothe hunger by rubbing an empty belly.” He strolled about in broad daylight brandishing a lamp. When people gathered around him, as they inevitably did, he would say, “I am just looking for a human being.” His fame spread far beyond Athens. One day, Alexander the Great came to meet him. When Alexander asked whether he could do anything for him, he replied, “Yes, stand out of my sunlight.”
History of Cynicism and Related Schools
Diogenes was followed by Crates of Thebes, who renounced a large fortune to live the Cynical life of poverty. Crates married Hipparchia of Maroneia, who, uniquely, adopted male clothes and lived on equal terms with her husband. By the first century, Cynics could be found throughout the cities of the Roman Empire. Cynicism vied with Stoicism, a broader philosophical system that emphasized self-control, fortitude, and clear thinking, and that, in the second century, could count the emperor Marcus Aurelius among its adherents. Zeno of Citium (334-262 BCE), the founder of Stoicism, had been a pupil of Crates, and Cynicism came to be seen as an idealized form of Stoicism.
Other philosophical schools that took off around the time of Alexander include Skepticism and Epicureanism. Like the fifth century BCE sophists to whom he opposed himself, Socrates had skeptical tendencies, claiming that he knew little or nothing, and cultivating a state of non-knowledge, or aporia. Pyrrho of Elis travelled with Alexander into India, where he encountered the gymnosophists, or “naked wise men.” Pyrrho denied that knowledge is possible and urged suspension of judgement, with the aim of exchanging the twin evils of anxiety and dogmatism for mental tranquillity, or ataraxia. The most important source on Pyrrhonism is Sextus Empiricus, who wrote in the late second century or thereabouts. In the 16th century, the translation of the complete works of Sextus Empiricus into Latin led to a resurgence of skepticism, and the work of René Descartes—”I think therefore I am,”and so on—can be read as a response to a skeptical crisis. But David Hume, who lived some hundred years later, remained unmoved by Descartes, writing that “philosophy would render us entirely Pyrrhonian, were not Nature too strong for it.”
Like Antisthenes and Diogenes, Epicurus of Samos dedicated himself to attaining happiness through the exercise of reason: reason teaches that pleasure is good and pain bad, and that pleasure and pain are the ultimate measures of good and bad. This has often been misconstrued as a call for rampant hedonism, but actually involves a kind of hedonic calculus to determine which things, over time, are likely to result in the most pleasure or least pain. Epicurus explicitly warned against overindulgence, because overindulgence so often leads to pain; and, rather than pleasure per se, emphasized the avoidance of pain, the elimination of desire, and mental tranquillity (ataraxia). “If thou wilt make a man happy” said Epicurus “add not unto his riches but take away from his desires.”
I think that their shared emphasis on ataraxia makes the four Hellenistic schools of Cynicism, Stoicism, Skepticism, and Epicureanism more related than different.
Cynicism endured into the fifth century. In City of God (426 CE), St Augustine says that “even today we still see Cynic philosophers.” Although Augustine scorned Cynic shamelessness, Cynicism and especially Cynic poverty exerted an important influence on early Christian asceticism, and thereby on later monasticism. In the early first century, when it was more popular, it may even have influenced the teachings of Jesus.
“Cynicism” acquired its modern meaning in the course of the 18th and early 19th centuries, stripping Ancient Cynicism of most of its tenets and retaining only the Cynic propensity to puncture people’s pretensions.
Today, cynicism refers to doubt or disbelief in the professed motives, sincerity, and goodness of others, and, by extension, in social and ethical norms and values. This attitude is often accompanied by mistrust, scorn, and pessimism about others and humanity as a whole.
Cynicism is often confused with irony, which is saying the opposite of what is meant, often for levity, emphasis, or concision; and with sarcasm, which is saying the opposite of what is meant to mock or convey anger or contempt. Sarcasm can involve cynicism if it punctures the pretensions of its target, especially when the target has not been given the benefit of doubt. Adding to the confusion, irony can also refer to an outcome that is clearly and emphatically contrary to the one that would normally have been expected.
Antonyms, or opposites, of cynicism include trust, faith, credulity, and naivete, which refers to lack of experience or understanding, often accompanied by starry-eyed optimism or idealism. In Voltaire’s Candide, the naïve Candide befriends a cynical scholar named Martin:
“You’re a bitter man,” said Candide.
“That’s because I’ve lived,” said Martin.
The Psychology of Cynicism
The line between cynicism and accurate observation can be very fine, and it is easy and often expedient to dismiss truthfulness as cynicism. Few grownups in our society are entirely devoid of cynicism. Cynicism exists on a spectrum, and it might be argued that most cynics, cynical though they may be, are not nearly cynical enough. As Terry Pratchett wrote of the fictional Vimes:
If there was anything that depressed him more than his own cynicism, it was that quite often it still wasn’t as cynical as real life.
Cynics often take pride and pleasure in their cynicism, including perhaps in the uneasy mix of discomfort and laughter that it can provoke in others. They may seek out the company of other cynics to “let rip” and test the limits of their cynicism. Popular satirical publications and programs such as the Onion and Daily Show have a strong cynical streak. Beyond the humor, cynicism, like broader satire, holds up a mirror to society, just as Diogenes held up a lamp to the Athenians, inviting people to question their beliefs, values, and priorities, and pointing them towards a more authentic and fulfilling way of living.
This all fits with the theory that cynics are nothing but disappointed idealists. On this reading, cynics are people who began life with unrealistically high standards and expectations. Rather than adjusting or compromising, or quietly withdrawing like the hermit, they went to war with the world, deploying their cynicism as both weapon and shield. Sometimes their cynicism is partial rather than global, circumscribed to those areas, such as love or politics, which have led to the greatest disillusionment.
Cynicism may be understood as a defensive posture: By always assuming the worst of everyone and everything, we cannot be hurt or disappointed—while also making ourselves feel smug and superior. Under her apparently thick skin, the cynic may be much more delicate and sensitive than is commonly imagined.
At the same time, cynicism can be a kind of pragmatism, ensuring that all angles have been covered and all eventualities foreseen. The nature of the cynicism reveals itself in its temperature or flavor: scornful and gratuitous cynicism is more likely to be an ego defense, whereas calm and happy cynicism, however actually cynical, is more likely to be a form of efficiency—not to mention comedy.
Cynicism can also be understood in terms of projection. The ego defence of projection involves the attribution of one’s unacceptable thoughts or feelings to others—and is the basis of playground retorts such as “mirror, mirror” and “what you say is what you are.” By projecting uncomfortable thoughts and feelings onto others, a person is able not only to distance himself from those thoughts and feelings, but also, in many cases, to play them out vicariously and even to use them in the service of his ego. But there is a caveat. While projection is most certainly an ego defense, to dig deep into our shared humanity to read the minds of others is, of course, a kind of wisdom—so long as we are not also deceiving ourselves in the process.
So are you too cynical?
Probably yes, if your cynicism is primarily a psychological defense, and hindering more than helping you.
Probably no, if your cynicism is measured and adaptive, and more of a thought through philosophical attitude that aims at joy, efficiency, and peace of mind.
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