Craft beer has been through this before.
Growth has slowed. Declining sales combined with increased costs forced the shuttering of breweries here and across the country, with more on the way. Monday morning quarterbacks lacking historical context declare craft is dead.
The industry’s “Great Shakeout” of the late ’90s left brewers and beer lovers feeling the same way, as if this was all some big flash in the pan. One third of all breweries closed, as much a result of Wall Street involvement as oversaturation or bad beer. Craft beer as an industry was shifting from the independent, hippie-ish mentality of the early founders to a focus on the quick cash influx that IPOs offered. Profit, not quality, drove many newcomers.
The fact that “shakeout” is a Wall Street term tells you all you need to know about where the focus of craft beer was at the time. It took another decade of refocusing on quality and flavor to redeem the industry. About 1,500 U.S. craft breweries existed in 2000, a number that remained mostly static for a decade.
Then it all exploded. Craft beer went from peripheral to mainstream, from curiosity to phenomenon. The number of breweries doubled, then doubled again. Now with solid ground beneath them, brewers pushed existing boundaries, creating new styles and flavors. Beer lovers went along for the ride.
Unfortunately, big money sales of craft breweries in the 2010s led many to forget the lessons of the late 90s, and when exponential growth proved unsustainable, some found themselves strapped with too much debt. With voices in their ears telling them to expand or die, breweries across the nation expanded – and died.
Then Covid shut the world down, shifting consumer behaviors in ways we are still struggling to understand.
If the late ’90s were craft beer’s Great Shakeout, then the 20s are its “Great Hangover.” The 2010s were a decade-long party, when 1,800 breweries in 2010 grew to 9,500 by 2020. But the party is over, and it’s time to face reality in the harsh light of day. St. Louis has seen the closures of O’Fallon Brewery, Earthbound Beer, and Ferguson Brewing Co. as well as the bankruptcy of Urban Chestnut.
It’s easy to point to oversaturation as the cause, and while it certainly plays a role, it is an oversimplification. The beginning of the 2010s saw craft beer sales grow by double digits each year. They weren’t stealing market share from each other; they were collectively taking a bite out of big beer.
Craft controlled 5% of the U.S. beer market by volume when the decade started. By 2013, the share had increased to 8%, prompting the Brewers Association to wonder if they could get to ’20 by 20.’ Some cities were already there, but for craft to reach that goal nationally, more breweries would have to open up in cities and smaller towns across the country. And they did.
By 2016 the market share was 12%, and the ’20 by 20’ goal didn’t seem out of reach. But the latter half of the decade didn’t match the first, and a 13% share in 2018 was followed by the high water mark of 13.9% in 2019.
After Covid, 13% became something of a hard ceiling for craft beer, still impressive considering how far it had come, but disappointing after such lofty expectations.
Oversaturation was now a problem. Any new craft beer on the shelf was competing with other craft breweries, not Budweiser. Breweries who depended primarily on distribution had to fight to get noticed.
For any other city, oversaturation might breed animosity amongst the breweries. In St. Louis, nothing could be further from the truth. The craft beer community here is filled with brilliant, driven scientists, engineers, and artist who would move heaven and earth to help someone in their community. Theirs is a culture of kindness and respect. Of love.
It didn’t happen by accident. The crew at Schlafly set the precedent. Tom Schlafly, Dan Kopman, Stephen Hale, and Otto Ottolini established a tone of cooperation when others might have been territorial. Trailhead and Square One brewer John Witte carried on the tradition of collaboration, as did 2nd Shift’s Steve Crider. A rising tide raised all pint glasses. Now that the tide has ebbed a bit, the community is still tight.
People enter the craft beer industry because of their passion. Brewing is equal parts science and art, with at least a dash of quirkiness, like Don Quixote tilting at Budweiser labeled windmills. St. Louis brewers are a community, and it shows in their support of one another.
Not everything in St. Louis beer over the past couple of years has been doom and gloom. In March of 2025, USA Today named St. Louis the #2 beer city behind Grand Rapids, Michigan, singling out Schlafly, Side Project, and Alpha. The openings of Blue Jay Brewing, Little Lager, Great Heart Brewing, and Rock & Horse Brewing, as well as the purchase and resurgence of Urban Chestnut, provide glimmers of hope in an otherwise dark period in craft beer.
Together we’re going to get through this.
Joel Bittle is the author of “Gateway Beer: St. Louis Craft Brewing in the Shadow of Anheuser-Busch,” coming this October.