Whisky Comes Marching Out of Poland (With Vodka Looking Mildly Offended)
Published November 6, 2025 by John Fegan
Contents
There are moments in history when entire civilizations pivot: the invention of writing, the first wheel, the discovery that cheese could be eaten and was not, in fact, a failed experiment in milk storage. And now, one more monumental shift must be added to the list:
Polish whisky has become the country’s fastest-growing export
Whisky, usually the liquid embodiment of misty valleys, Celtic stubbornness, and facial hair that might host its own wildlife documentary. It is a drink that has always seemed to require mist, peat, and at least one person loudly insisting that you’re drinking it wrong. And now it has found a new home in Poland. This is not something anyone expected, least of all vodka, which has been ruling the alcohol roost in Poland for centuries and assumed it would continue doing so until the end of time or the end of government taxation, whichever came first.
In 2021, Poland exported whisky worth forty million zloty. Last year it was one hundred and ninety seven million. This is what economists call remarkable, what bartenders call typical, and what vodka calls treason.
Vodka is still the reigning monarch of Polish booze exports, lounging on the throne like it owns the place, which to be fair, it does. Nine hundred million zloty buys you a lot of confidence, not to mention a coronation robe made of pure self-satisfaction.
But whisky has definitely begun clearing its throat in a meaningful way. Not the small, embarrassed sort of cough that says “sorry to interrupt,” but the grand, resonant sort that suggests it has typed up an agenda, and may soon start rearranging the chairs and asking who’s in charge around here. Rum is somewhere in the background, raising its hand and trying to look relevant. No one is making eye contact.
The growth of Polish whisky has been described as “astonishing”, “unexpected”, and by vodka lobbyists, “something we’re not panicking about, absolutely not, why are you writing that down?”
A Diversifying Booze Kingdom
Twenty or so years ago, vodka accounted for eighty percent of all Polish spirit exports, which is the sort of number that makes statisticians purr and every other drink feel like an afterthought. Now it has dropped to thirty eight percent, which in the world of alcohol politics is not just a shift but a full scale palace coup, complete with suspiciously missing ledgers and someone insisting they always supported the new regime.
Whisky, meanwhile, has reached 8.2 percent and is climbing faster than a political promise during election season, which is to say it is rising with great enthusiasm and absolutely no intention of explaining itself later.
Poland now sends its drinkable distractions to France, the United States, Hungary, the United Kingdom and Germany, proving once again that humanity has a remarkable capacity for disagreement on every important subject except one. After the news, something strong in a glass is not a luxury. It is survival equipment.
The Heroes of the Bottle
Out in front is Paprocky Whisky, distilled in western Poland and carrying itself like a brand that already knows where the spotlight is and how to stand in it. The stuff has been bagging international awards with the kind of swagger that comes from equal parts talent, strategy and the sort of self-belief that is one eyebrow lift away from full blown arrogance.
Following behind, possibly with a fanfare only he can hear, comes Jakubiak Whisky, produced by a brewery belonging to Marek Jakubiak, a man who is both a whisky maker and a politician, which is usually nature’s way of warning us that something has gone terribly strange. His politics are so far to the right they occasionally look over the edge to see if the rest of the spectrum is still visible.
It has long been understood that politicians drink spirits. The universe never intended for them to manufacture the stuff, because this creates a troubling overlap between “what shall we put in the bottle” and “what shall we put in the law.”
Money, Taxes, and the Government’s Thirst
In 2024, the Polish spirits sector contributed twenty six billion zloty to the country’s GDP, a sum large enough to make politicians look thoughtful and distillers look tired. Eighty two percent of that went straight back into government accounts through taxes, proving once more that booze is the only sector where everyone involved, producer and consumer, ends up hungover, excepting of course the nation’s budget office.
Most of this comes through excise, VAT, and the quiet, existential despair of accountants who have long since abandoned the idea of joy and now survive on spreadsheets and lukewarm tea. Excise alone brought in ten point three billion zloty, which explains why the government watches the industry with the same expression a cat uses when deciding whether to pounce on a moving dot. It knows it wants something. It just hasn’t declared it yet.
The future of drinking, now with more tax
The government is now thinking very seriously about raising alcohol taxes again, in order to deal with what it politely calls the “budget gap,” a term which here means “the treasury opened the drawer, heard it echo, and tried not to panic in front of witnesses.”
Naturally, no one will like this. But the cycle, like all great cosmic wheels, turns:
- Government raises tax
- Citizens complain
- Citizens buy alcohol to cope with taxes
- Tax revenue increases
- Government congratulates itself and considers raising taxes again
Economists call this a feedback loop. Everyone else calls it Tuesday and checks whether there’s anything left in the fridge.
The Final Sip
Poland, once the quiet neighbour who brought vodka to the party and never made a fuss, has started turning up with whisky and a grin that suggests it knows exactly what it is doing. It has begun striding onto the world stage with the sort of confidence usually found in nations that consider tartan as a lifestyle choice. So the question is not whether Poland can make good whisky. It has already demonstrated that quite cheerfully.
The question is how long before Scotland notices and starts sharpening the bagpipes.