Would a universal cheese scoring system help consumers or hurt the category?

I have never felt more confident shopping for wine than when staring at a shelf tag advertising “94 points.” I don’t know who gave it the 94. I don’t know what happened to the missing six. I just know that 94 feels safe, and it looks close to 100.
Cheese offers no such public affirmation. Instead, we display ambiguous terms like “Alpine-style,” “artisanal,” or “family-owned.” These words are essential, but if I’m honest, sometimes a bossy number leading me in the right direction is a relief.
Wine figured this out decades ago. In the 1970s, critics like Robert Parker began to assign wines scores on a 100-point scale to help build consumer confidence in a confusing market. A critic tastes, declares, and suddenly, there is a system of clarity. Shoppers are no longer paralyzed by choice; they are hunting for a number. This simple guide was created for everyday wine buyers like me, not for trained sommeliers. The number became a shortcut for quick decision-making so folks don’t have to think when they are tired and hungry and probably could use a glass of wine.
With cheese, we hand people a sample on a toothpick and say, “What do you think?” That works if someone’s standing at a counter; it’s less helpful when you’re alone in a grocery aisle, label-gazing.
Would points help? On one hand, cheese is wildly subjective. One person’s exceptional washed-rind can be baffling to someone else. But wine is no different. Some people want acid that could strip paint. Others want something soft and plush. Yet the 100-point system persists, imperfect and maybe outdated, but still influential. It doesn’t eliminate taste preference; it frames quality within a style.
What if cheese had a similar shorthand?
Imagine a small card next to a wheel: “92 points—benchmark Alpine-style.” Now the consumer has criteria. A 95-point clothbound cheddar might indicate depth, balance, and proper aging. A 90-point fresh chèvre could mean clean, bright, and reliable.
Of course, the logistics are messy. Who decides? Consumers? Buyers? Competition judges? We already have medals and points from various competitions, but numbers feel more like an international language.
We could end up standardizing the very diversity we want to protect. Still, I can’t shake the appeal of a clear signal to consumers who are curious but intimidated.
Maybe the answer isn’t a rigid system like wine. Maybe it’s just better signage that borrows the approach of wine scoring.
All I know is I feel convinced when I see “94 points” on a bottle. What would happen if cheese offered that same quiet cue? Would shoppers feel less intimidated?
The wine industry has long debated the points system, with critics arguing it can oversimplify variation. At the same time, supporters see it as helpful marketing. Perhaps scores can be like training wheels: serving their purpose for beginners but becoming humdrum if never taken off.

