It’s good to be the king. But would you rather be the king of pop or the king of beer? Not just in Bud’s marketing sense of being the “king of beers,” but the earned and undisputed sense of being the monarch of all beer scribes. That man was also named Michael Jackson.

“My name really is Michael Jackson, but I don’t sing and I don’t drink Pepsi. I drink beer. That’s what I do for a living.” So begins the self-introduction for the six-part series The Beer Hunter that aired on the Discovery Channel in the U.S. in 1990. Michael’s journeys revealed the beer culture and heritage from Bavaria, to Bohemia, to Belgium, to Britain, to the Bay Area. It is no exaggeration to say that, were it not for this bard of beer, the knowledge and respect beer enjoys today would be greatly reduced and embryonic.

Jackson (1942-2007) made his life’s work preaching the gospel of authentic ales and lagers in an era when beer — most noticeably in the U.S. — was little more than a commodity that consumers drank for one of three reasons: it allegedly tasted great, it was less filling, and it was sure to make you sexy to your attractions.

Having said that, Jackson doesn’t single-handedly deserve credit for reversing negative brewing and marketing trends following World War II. Agents of change sprouted up on both sides of the Atlantic. In Jackson’s native England, the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) kicked off in 1971 when four blokes tried enjoying some pints in a pub but decided they were mad as hell and weren’t going to take “fake” beer anymore (CAMRA has grown into a consumer advocacy group that’s over 100,000 volunteers strong). By this time, Anchor Brewing in San Francisco had six years under Fritz Maytag’s new ownership and started bottling the revamped Anchor Steam with other elegant styles such as Anchor Porter, Liberty Ale, and Old Foghorn on the verge of debuting. Instead, Jackson deserves credit for giving the brewing revolution a voice, giving beer the respect it deserved long before beer journalism had taken hold.

His book The World Guide to Beer, published in 1977, was the first tome on the subject that categorized beers. Variety and style were reemerging as concepts. Were it not for his diligent study, the roughly 80 styles of beers recognized by the Brewers Association and judged at the annual Great American Beer Festival may have perished into obscurity.

Daniel Bradford, publisher of All About Beer Magazine, said, “MJ’s single contribution to beer media is the creation of a vocabulary. It actually did not exist before him.”

Today, budding beer connoisseurs are able to discuss an IPA’s citrusy nose and piney aftertaste — or a foreign stout’s roastiness and dry finish. But without Jackson, many people wouldn’t even ascertain the difference between the two despite their polarities in color, hop aroma, malt bills, and mouthfeel.

A man walks into a bar

From his father, a truck driver of Lithuanian Jewish heritage, Jackson developed his workingman’s sensibilities. But from his mother, he developed a resolute respect for the English language. He was already a reporter when he noticed that wine received its due respect in the media but not beer. His first book, titled The English Pub, was published in 1976.

He quickly realized that real ale — brewed with traditional ingredients and both matured and served from the original cask — wasn’t just found in local pubs but that there was a whole world of good beer out there. Perhaps the brewing culture nearest and dearest to his heart hailed from Belgium. “No other country has among its native styles of beer such diversity, individuality, idiosyncrasy and colour,” he wrote. “Winey-tasting Lambics, some with whole fruit added; ‘white’ beers in the vein of the popular Hoegaarden, typically spiced; sour-ish red and brown beers; strong ales from Trappist monasteries; powerful golden brews like the famous Duvel; plus endless local and seasonal specialities.”

Belgian ales may be prevalent among beer geeks today, but a large part of their popularization stems from Jackson’s 1991 book, Great Beers of Belgium. Ask any stateside producer of Belgian-style ales — from the exotically spiced, to the playfully fruited, to those richly enhanced with candi sugar — and said brewmaster will almost assuredly point to reading this book as the wellspring of interest. If not, it’s only because he or she is unaware that the craft brews that were inspirational had actually been formulated by a Jackson fan and reader a generation earlier. In this capacity, Michael Jackson has had nearly as great an impact on the homebrewing community as author Charlie Papazian (whose pioneering book, The Joy of Homebrewing, is said to have launched a thousand microbreweries). Between Jackson’s most popular books, he is partially responsible for the other six-hundred-plus craft breweries in this country.

Jackson was the first recipient of the F.X. Matt Award (so named for F.X. Matt Brewing in Utica, NY, one of the oldest surviving breweries in the US). Bestowed by the Brewers Association in 1987, Jackson was awarded his ahead of industry legends and pioneers such as Anchor’s Fritz Maytag and Sierra Nevada founder Ken Grossman.

He suffered from Parkinson’s disease and diabetes but died from a heart attack at the age of 65 after thirty years as the world’s first professional beer critic. Steve Hindy, owner of the Brooklyn Brewery and a former Associated Press correspondent said on August 30, 2007, the day Jackson died, “Michael was the first serious writer and reporter to focus on the wonderful, mysterious history of brewing. For millions of readers and viewers, he unlocked the secrets of ale, lager and lambic, of Oktoberfest, India Pale Ale and the myriad of beer styles. His books and articles saved many breweries from extinction and inspired a new generation of brewers in America and abroad . . . He elevated the status of beer in the world. “

Though he also enjoyed whiskey (he also did for whisky what he did for beer with his 1987 book, The World of Whisky) and wine, there’s no doubt he took the most pleasure and pride in spotlighting fine ales and lagers. He said, “Beer is by far the more extensively consumed, but less adequately honored. In a small way, I want to help put right that injustice.”