I think that statement is both simultaneously true and not true, and it’s ok to hold both interpretations at once.
It’s helpful to think of it that way when, for example, the financially responsible thing to do is buy more '89 Raffault Les Picasses (which, really, is among my very favorite wines ever), and not start developing a taste for, say, Musigny. Ultimately, we’re gonna drink it, and there are diminishing returns relative to my financial status, and I’m not sure the enjoyment from a $10k bottle would materially surpass the enjoyment of a $90 bottle, and I should probably just keep funding my 401k instead.
And/or, also helpful to think of it that way so it’s not off-putting or mystifying to my friends who don’t much care about the details. I want to put my enthusiasm for my hobby sufficiently on hold to where I can still drink $15 rose with my friends in the summer and we all have a good time.
But then, it’s also helpful to think of it not as just a beverage: There are definitely certain moments where drinking certain wines was a transcendent experience, heightened further by sharing with friends and family. The first time I tried aged Coulee de Serrant- I had no idea someone could make Chenin Blanc taste like that.
I work in an artistic field (music production), I work with musicians day in and day out, and I absolutely believe that wine can be artistic expression too. Much like recorded music, wine exists along a spectrum from art to commerce, with each winemaker aiming for a certain proportion of each. Some Bordeaux is produced in large amounts, and I still love it, just as I love certain Top 40 records. Other wines, of course, are in much smaller production, and I love them too, the same way I love some very unknown independent music. And, also, as with music, I am gradually able to learn more, refine my taste, and get very specific about what I like and don’t like.