Ardbeg Appoints First Female Manager in Modern Times

Published November 7, 2025 by John Fegan

Ardbeg has appointed Bryony McNiven as its new distillery manager, effective 1 January 2026. She will be the first woman to hold the role in modern times. A chemist by training and lifelong Islay local, McNiven has worked with Ardbeg in various capacities for over a decade, including in whisky creation and visitor experience roles. She succeeds outgoing manager Colin Gordon and plans to balance innovation with the distillery’s established style while strengthening Ardbeg’s community and global presence.

There are many jobs in the whisky industry that sound wonderfully poetic until you realise they mostly involve paperwork, boilers, and the unpredictable nature of barley. Master Distiller. Keeper of the Quaich. Interpreter of Mysterious Distillery Noises. And on the windy, sea-sprayed isle of Islay, where the air is equal parts oxygen and peat smoke, a new one has just been awarded. Distillery manager!

That poisoned chalice, or rather, smoky, phenolic, award-winning chalice, is about to pass to Bryony McNiven, who will be the first woman to run Ardbeg in the modern age. A development that is both historic and mildly embarrassing for the modern times in question.

McNiven will officially take charge of Ardbeg on 1 January 2026, turning up with the two things most useful in the whisky trade. One is a degree in chemistry, allowing her to understand whisky at the level of molecules, atoms, and whatever very tiny things come after atoms. The other is being from Islay, which means the sort of instinct that comes from being born close enough to the distillery to smell fermentation before breakfast. Between them lies the true secret of whisky-making, held together by peat smoke, time, and the occasional threat directed at machinery.

Niven says she is “thrilled to be taking the reins” of what Ardbeg proudly calls the world’s peatiest malt. Though few horses are expected to be involved, and the claim about the peatiest malt is guaranteed to trigger whisky-fan warfare. The sort which begin pleasantly and end with charts, graphs, and three hours of deep debate no one can win because everyone is too invested to surrender. Also that is also almost certainly a crown that belongs to Octomore…

She inherits the role from Colin Gordon, who is off to Bairds Malt Limited to become Distilling Sales Manager, a title that sounds safe until you realise it still involves dealing with people who think whisky is made by magic. He departs having achieved three statistically improbable feats: the distillery remained operational, the stills didn’t explode, and the whisky continued to taste like Ardbeg rather than something brewed by someone like me experimenting with barley and YouTube instructions. These are three tasks might sound straightforward, but only to people who haven’t tried to negotiate with industrial equipment that appears to have emotions and the occasional desire to explode.

The long way home via Glasgow and Sweden

McNiven did not simply materialise in a laboratory wearing a white coat and clutching a pipette like a wand of scientific authority. As the daughter of long-serving stillman Ruaraidh MacIntyre she grew up within nosing distance of the distillery and learned early that barley can be as temperamental as a goat on a trampoline and that tourists will always ask the same four questions no matter how carefully the sign answers them. Eventually she went to Glasgow University to study chemistry, where she realised something important: alcohol obeys physics, people drinking alcohol do not.¹

After that, she became an Ardbeg brand ambassador in Sweden, a land known for calm, order, and sensible furniture, making it the ideal place to introduce a whisky that smells like a campfire that has strong personal beliefs.

After six years with the whisky creation team in Edinburgh, McNiven returned to Islay in 2018, rejoined the visitor centre, and joined Ardbeg’s sensory panel, which is a very polite way of saying she now sniffs whisky for a living and declares whether it smells like smoke, seaweed, or something that once belonged to a dragon. It proves that you can go home again, so long as you return with something useful, like expertise, a good nose, or a packet of biscuits big enough to prevent an argument.

Not the first ever, just the first in far too long

McNiven may be the first woman to hold the post recently, but she is definitely not the first in Ardbeg’s history. In the mid-19th century, the distillery was run by Margaret and Flora MacDougall, who managed whisky production while the rest of the world was still trying to decide whether steam power was witchcraft. Predictably, the industry later forgot this, the same way it tends to forget anyone who did important things before men in suits turned up and claimed they’d invented it.

“I am incredibly proud to be the first woman to be Ardbeg’s distillery manager,” McNiven said. “I think the whisky industry and community is becoming much more diverse, both on Islay and beyond.”

Progress, unfortunately, is still slower than it needs to be. Humans, meanwhile, tend to age poorly compared to barrels.

Ardbeg House and the global peat faithful

2025 also marked the grand opening of Ardbeg House, a place designed so visitors don’t have to leave the whisky behind when they leave the distillery. McNiven describes it as:

“A world-class whisky and hospitality experience, as well as an extension of the Ardbeg brand. It provides visitors with an opportunity to immerse themselves in the world of Ardbeg even after they have left the distillery.”

Which is just a polite way of saying that people can now stay overnight and continue talking about phenol levels long after normal humans would have fled. With more than 200,000 Ardbeg Committee members across 140 countries, it’s clear that the internationall peat cult now spreads faster than common sense. And should certainly be studied by epidemiologists if they’ve not already noticed.

The long view: ten years from now

When asked to imagine Ardbeg ten years from now, McNiven offers a vision that manages to be both global and very, very local:

“In ten years, I hope Ardbeg will continue to be enjoyed all over the world and known for its exceptional quality and innovation. Within the community, I want to strengthen Ardbeg’s role as a positive force, supporting local initiatives and preserving the unique spirit of Islay.”

And then, simply:

“To ensure that Ardbeg remains a source of pride for generations to come.”

Which is the closest mortals get to immortality in the whisky business. You don’t live forever. But your casks come closer, and they will almost certainly outlast the people arguing about them.

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1. Physics has so far refuses to comment. ↩︎