Back in the day, before the bourbon boom, single malt scotch reigned over the kingdom of whiskey and a bottle with a number on the front served as the ultimate status symbol. Walk up to the bar and order a Macallan 18, and, my friend, you were in the club. It didn’t matter if you knew nothing about Macallan and had no idea what a single malt actually is. That advanced age statement said it all: you’re a man of sophistication and class, a connoisseur of the finer things. (And, let’s be real: it was almost always men in this scenario.)

“People’s knee-jerk reaction, especially when they’re new to whiskey, is to align quality with age and value,” says Tommy Tardie, owner of New York whiskey bars The Flatiron Room and Fine & Rare. “The older it is, the better it has to be.” The scotch industry pushed age statements because, like numerical scores, they acted as a succinct mark of quality that anyone could recognize. And, of course, the older the age, the more expensive the whisky. Simply being able to afford that Macallan 18 said something about the person ordering it: cash and class, after all, are close associates.

But in the last 20 years, as scotch’s popularity grew, supplies tightened and many distillers opted to discontinue age statements, hoping that if they came up with a novel, usually Gaelic name, and spun the right story, drinkers would accept a substitute sans number. It has partly worked, though as supply of aged whisky has caught up with demand, age statements are coming back into force.

That’s scotch, though. With bourbon, it’s different. Outliers like Pappy notwithstanding, age statements have always been less of a thing in American whiskey, though in the late aughts many distilleries introduced or emphasized them to better compete with scotch. The strategy backfired in a predictable way: as demand for bourbon increased, stocks tightened and, just as happened in Scotland, distillers began dropping age statements. Knob Creek, Elijah Craig Small Batch, Old Charter, and others all saw their ages disappear, while other brands, like Henry McKenna and Eagle Rare, both 10 years old, became much harder to find, and often much more expensive.

Anyone who has started drinking bourbon in the last decade has had few consistent options for age-statement bottles, mostly the likes of Russell’s Reserve—10 years old for bourbon, 6 years old for rye—Bulleit 10-Year-Old, and Elijah Craig Barrel Proof, which was, until recently, always 12 years old. But even that old reliable is now bottling at various ages, around but not always 12 years (the exact age, down to the month, is noted on the label).

Elijah Craig, though, has another number working in its favor: its proof. Increasingly, drinkers looking for an instantly recognizable sign of superiority are latching onto ABV instead. Michael Lowry, vice president of global spirits sourcing at Total Wine & More, says the trend kicked off years ago, after high-end, barrel-proof bourbons like George T. Stagg and William Larue Weller, part of the Buffalo Trace Antique Collection, began gaining cult status.

“Collections like that introduced this idea that whiskey is drinkable if not far more flavorful at this high proof level,” Lowry says, noting that for a long time, whiskey bottled at 100 proof was considered strong. But when barrel-proof options emerged and proved to be popular—and more lucrative—distillers who had never ventured above 50 percent ABV started paying attention. 

Lowry points to Maker’s Mark as an example. For years, there was a single Maker’s offering: straight bourbon at 45 percent ABV. “Then they came out with Cask Strength, and then the single-barrel program, which is all at cask strength,” Lowry says. “When a brand like that starts moving toward high-proof expressions, there’s definitely something going on.” Nowadays, he adds, “it’s a given” that every new bourbon has both a standard proof version, usually around 45 percent ABV, and a higher-octane expression.

High-Proof Holdouts

For most of its history, American whiskey was usually bottled at 100 proof. Lower strengths only became popular in the mid-20th century as tastes changed to favor lighter, smoother drinks. Bestselling brands like Jim Beam and Jack Daniel’s have been 80 proof for generations, and the first mainstream barrel-proof bourbon, Booker’s, only emerged in the 1980s.

But, almost unique among Kentucky’s bourbon strongholds, Wild Turkey never gave up its signature 101 proof (though it also has long offered an 81 proof expression too). According to associate blender Bruce Russell, that’s because his grandfather, master distiller Jimmy Russell, prefers to preserve as much of the barrel’s flavor as possible by minimizing the gap between barrel proof and bottling proof. Historically, Wild Turkey put its new-make spirit into the barrel at 107 proof—much lower than most of its peers, who largely barrel at 125 proof. That meant Wild Turkey’s cask-strength whiskies were often not all that high in proof.

But in 2004, the distillery upped its barrel-entry proof to 110, and then two years later to 115. One recent bottling clocked in at 116.8. “Part of the reason we went up is because we wanted to offer higher-proof products, and at the time a lot of our barrel proofs were between 101 and 105,” Bruce Russell says, adding that he has pushed his dad, master distiller Eddie Russell, to put out higher-proof whiskies “for a long time.” Bruce notes that it’s not just a personal preference; Wild Turkey fans are asking for barrel proof too.

“If we weren't in the environment we are right now in the whiskey industry, we probably wouldn't be able to do a lot of the higher-proof stuff we've done,” he says. “But people that are really into our limited editions, they're wanting something unique and full-flavored.” On top of that, Bruce says, the barrel-proof Wild Turkey of today bears a particular resemblance to older 101 bottlings—likely because the dilution levels are similar—and that’s driving interest among drinkers. “It has that little extra Wild Turkey seasoning: that extra flavor that we want.” (Other expert tasters whose last names are not Russell agree.)

But even Russell, a devotee of barrel-proof whiskey, sees some people ordering it as a way of flashing their credentials rather than just for sheer enjoyment. And he himself gets lumped in with them! “I sometimes get the eye roll when I order Rare Breed,” he says, referring to Wild Turkey’s core barrel-proof whiskey. “And they're like, oh, you want that on a rock? ‘No, I drink it neat.’ I can tell [they're thinking] ‘Oh, big guy over here.’”

High Proof Bourbon: The Flavor Factor

Wild Turkey’s example reveals a simpler explanation for why higher proof has become so popular. It just has more flavor! Whiskey is a solution of alcohol and water, and most of its flavor compounds are locked into the ethanol. The higher the alcohol, the more flavor in the liquid. It makes sense then that many drinkers would prefer a higher proof.

Yet even this ties back into the performance of connoisseurship. The more access to flavor, the easier it is for a whiskey drinker—especially a new one—to identify and talk about what they’re tasting. Spouting off tasting notes hasn’t always been a feature of casual, or even serious, whiskey drinking, but it certainly is nowadays. And the more upfront and prominent a whiskey’s flavor, the easier it is to show off your refined palate.

Relatedly, high-proof whiskies tend to clean up in competitions. Take it from someone who’s done a fair amount of professional judging: when you have to go through dozens of whiskies a day, the delicate nuances of 43 percent ABV gets lost. But a tongue-punching barrel proof will always stand out, and even if the quality is only so-so, it’s likely to outscore its low-strength brethren based on the mere fact that it offers something for the exhausted palate to identify. Winning awards is a key strategy for many whiskies looking to boost sales, and thus the high-proof trend perpetuates itself.

'It Is, Frankly Hard to Drink.' Has It Gotten Out of Hand?

So high-proof whiskey has become something of an arms race. It’s not just that there’s a greater proportion of barrel-strength bottlings now than ever before. The proofs themselves are off the charts. Bottles above 70 percent ABV are popularly known as HAZMAT, and they represent a particularly in-demand, and growing, subsection of the category.

Take Jack Daniel’s: The standard Old No. 7 has long been bottled at 40 percent ABV, but started introducing barrel-proof versions in 2015 which have proven immensely popular. Then a few years ago, the distillery debuted a line of single barrels called Coy Hill, taken from one of its most active warehouses, in which high heat drives up the strength of the whiskey to extreme levels. Coy Hill’s highest proof clocked in at 77.55 percent ABV, and has never been below 68 percent. Bottles even require a special cork that’s designed to withstand the pressure of high-proof alcohol vapor. Each new release is snapped up and shown off—sometimes not even reviewed, just displayed—on YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok.

How far can this trend go? Coy Hill is extremely limited, as are several other high-proof whiskies, so even though one glass is likely strong enough to put a drinker over the legal limit for driving, it’s not necessarily being quaffed with abandon. In fact, even though the number of barrel-proof bourbons is growing, that doesn't mean most people are drinking them as their daily pour. Some folks may be, but much like Macallan 18 is usually a special-occasion treat, high-strength whiskey is a sometimes snack.

Because it is, frankly, hard to drink. The alcohol level is often searing. It more or less instantly numbs the trigeminal nerve, the part of your mouth that detects “heat” from ethanol. The flavors of a barrel-strength whiskey can be extremely enjoyable, but they’re also often masked by the numbing sensation. If you can’t taste what you’re drinking, what’s the point?

The point is—duh—the fact that you’re drinking high proof. “That experiential quality to high-proof whiskies is attractive to first-timers, folks who are just getting into the category, who might be following a friend of theirs who seems to know a lot more about whiskey,” Lowry says, adding that there’s often an element of storytelling and recalling past pours that plays into it. “It ties into the prestige, the ‘I’m in the know,’” he says. “Dude, I don’t just drink Maker’s Mark. I drink a cask strength.”

Just as aggressively hopped IPAs are receding to make way for more lagers, this trend will likely regulate in time—perhaps just by drinkers opting to take their barrel-proof whiskey on ice, or diluted to a more easygoing pour. After all, Tardie points out, barrel-proof bottles tend to offer a better value per ounce than a standard proof. “You’re getting more bang for your buck, especially if you proof it down,” he says. “And it provides more flexibility—being able to tailor the bottle to your palate, whatever your palate’s feeling at the moment.”