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Do we have any free will when it comes to which wines we like?

Theories suggest that our wine preferences come from our DNA or our personality. Oliver Styles is worried.

French Existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre famously said: "L'enfer, c'est les autres" ("hell is other people").

This misanthropy was presumably why he wrote such deliberately awkward prose. In any case, it seems that a few people in the wine world have adopted his outlook to the process of buying and enjoying wine.

Recently, I've noticed two novel approaches to guide our wine buying choices. The first is Vinome, which uses your own DNA to help select the wines you are most likely to enjoy. This, clearly, might make a lot of people very happy at the prospect of not having to wonder why they like Albariño, but I recoiled in abject horror with thoughts of Brave New World, the Matrix and Minority Report running through my head.

My DNA chooses my wines? What if I don't like it: is it my own fault? Am I not being true to myself? Was I having a bad day? Am I broken? Wine appreciation can be esoteric enough without bringing a further layer of neurotic concern to the business of your Friday evening Chardonnay choice.

The other approach was Tim Hanni MW's "My Vinotype". This appears more along the psychometric line, where a series of options and choices unlock your "sensory sensitivity". I've been psychometrically tested – apparently with inconclusive results (I had to resit and I'm not sure the outcome was any more revelatory, unless I really have no personality) – and every fibre in my being loathes it.

Now Hanni's approach may not be like the double-bluff game of answering questions on behalf of yourself to a computer but, like Vinome, the outcome is the same: your personality determines your wine choices. And again, I began to feel incredibly uneasy about all of this. Celine, another French writer of the same period as Sartre (and also one I have struggled with) said that, deep down, the only two realizations of our deepest character were War and Famine. I'm not sure I want that in my glass. What would it even taste like? I recently described a sparkling rosé as "appalling", and that's as close to two horsemen of the apocalypse as I want to get.

But this is not my main concern. I'd even be willing to give either wine project a go were I not more keen to hold on to my spare cash to buy more wine. What bothers me is twofold.

First, are we so wary of the recommendations of the Other (with a capital "O" – a Simone de Beauvoir reference for those still on an existentialist bent) that we feel we must refuse any attempts to socialize our wine buying choices? What's wrong with having an expert – hell, not even an expert, just a guy you might know at work – recommend you a Swedish Sauvignon Blanc? Sure, why not? I'll give it a shot. I understand an unwillingness to place your wine choice in the hands of some po-faced droog who can list all the château dogs of the Médoc and their preferred urinating spots, but even then at least you've got something to talk about. If you hate a wine they rate, you can even rant about it on a bulletin board. You don't have to sit in silence worrying about the oddball Gewürztraminer choices your id is making on your behalf. Hell isn't other people, hell is you and yourself. Try spending a week completely alone and see how you two get along.

Second, when did it become so important (to us) to get it right all the time? The process is as much fun as the finished object. Finding out what you don't like, pushing your boundaries, trying new things, hating new things, coming back to it, gradually understanding it – all of these things make up a wonderful journey. "Trial and Error" has two parts of which the latter is equally rewarding.

I hope I'm not being unfair at the expense of these new wine projects. Indeed, I'd be happy to try them out and give my subconscious free rein in a trendy wine bar; I'm just a bit worried that – if my psychometric testing is correct – it's going to chose something along the lines of a bland, commercial Pinot Grigio. And I don't want to be that kind of guy. Least of all, I don't want to be that guy and like it as well.