I highly doubt that it's 32 or more times better than a regular premium Scotch.
I don't believe it is, either. Rather, it's more about the experience.
The year of the Queen's diamond jubilee several independent bottlers in Scotland pulled out casks of 60-year-old whisky. The whisky I'm familiar with was put in the cask five days before Her Majesty's coronation and bottled on the 60th anniversary of her ascent to the throne -- about four months before my birth.
I'd gotten to know the managing director of the independent bottling house, and one evening at the Victoria Whisky Festival as I approached his table he had a special glint in his eye. After we'd exchanged pleasantries he motioned me behind his display table, pulled out a magazine with an article about a particular whisky and asked, "Do you know what that is?"
"Of course," I said, "I have that magazine."
He pulled the bottle from a box of supplies and poured a wee dram for me.
"Only 88 bottles came from that cask," he said as I nosed the whisky. After all those years in the warehouse, the angels had most certainly enjoyed their share of the spirit.
A gaggle of folks approached his table, and I took my leave to find a secluded spot in the hotel lobby to enjoy that dram. It was, as expected, exquisite. I took more than a half hour to savor that half-ounce pour.
A bottle retailed for $32,000. Was it worth it? Not to me, certainly, but it did make my list of one of the 10 best malts I've tried. The greatest travesty to me will be the bottles that sold to be squirreled away in some prized closet, only brought out to show off for special friends -- but never to be opened and enjoyed. Rather like not shooting a gun!