I get asked this a lot. Perhaps you do too. I always wonder, is it a trick question? Maybe the questioner loves Bach and hopes I’ll agree. Maybe the hope is that I’ll say “Beethoven” and a good debate can ensue.

There is no best composer. Not Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Ravel, nor any of my beloved Russians. At least that’s my view.

Analogies with food are instructive. We don’t ask, “What’s the best food?” We ask, “What’s your favorite food?” The person answering nearly always gives a qualified reply. “Well, fried shrimp . . . unless it’s winter, when I’m crazy about pot roast.” Taste in music, like food, is affected by location, timing, circumstances, and most importantly, mood.

But can we make a concrete argument for a best composer if we specify certain things? Well, yes. Best at writing music within the rules of 18th-century counterpoint? (Bach). Best at thematic development in the first quarter of the 19th-century? (Beethoven) Best orchestrator of the early 20th century? (Ravel) At least, the argument is on firmer ground.

At times, composers of the past thought of best only within a restricted milieu—best choirmaster-composer in Venice or best opera composer at Joseph II’s court, for example. And they didn’t strive for lasting fame, at least not until the 19th century.

Instead, they hoped a new piece would be well received by whichever person or institution had paid for it. They hoped for a chance to fix what might be wrong with it to ensure repeat performances. And, most of all, they hoped that a new work would lead to the commissioning of the next one. Always at issue was paying the rent. Keeping a job. Feeding one’s family. Those things have not changed for composers today. The label “best” is nice, but it doesn’t pay the bills.