LOL no this article is a disaster.

That's not very polite of me, but it's also not very polite of this "author" to try to write a thing without doing the slightest amount of research or basic critical thinking.

In the dark ages, brewsters, women who brewed beer

First of all, "Dark Ages"? We haven't said that in decades. Second: "Dark Ages" typically refers to the Middle Ages (~400-1500), sometimes exclusively to the early Middle Ages (~400-1000). Witchcraft persecution as we think of is just starting to pick up by the late 1400s. Nider's Formicarius is from the 1430s, and Kramer Malleus Maleficarum from 1487. Witchcraft panic is a late 1400s-mid 1600s horror.

Now combine that with:

With the enactment of standards of quality for beer in the 1500s, the oldest food purity laws still on the books, many women were forced out of the market due to increased production costs. In a few hundred years breweries were monopolized by men.

Witchcraft persecution was worst in the Holy Roman Empire and in England. In England, as Judith Bennett painstakingly reconstructed, the number of brewsters declined radically over the 15th century as beer took over the market from ale. Hops-requiring beer needed much more extensive production facilities than the average family could supply in-home. In Germany, of course, beer had long been the preference. It was categorically not "a few hundred years" before the German grain-alcohol market was monopolized by breweries and breweries were monopolized by men. (Ann Tlusty demonstrates this quite persuasively for late 15th=>16th century Augsburg).

In other words: when and where women are getting prosecuted as "witches" (85% of people tried as witches were women), there are a lot fewer brewsters.

Additionally: all those comments so desperately trying to link stereotypical "witchy" iconography with brewsters are ridiculous, as a modium of critical thought can tell you. For example:

Yes, cats were kept around as mousers...by everyone. The Ancrenne Wisse, an early 13th century guide to a holy life for anchoresses, allows each anchoress one cat, but ONLY to be a mouser, ABSOLUTELY NOT to be a pet, because earthly emotional attachments would distract her from God. The famous early medieval poem Pangur Ban was written by an Irish monk at a monastery in Germany (probably homesick)--about his cat. This "argument" is just silly.

The article also fundamentally misunderstands how witch persecution worked. The author just follows the modern assumption of the independent herb-woman healer--the feminist counterpart of the male-dominated medical proession--being persecuted for being...well, that. Were there some cases of that? Absolutely. Did those skills play a role in the accusations? Sometimes. But not in the generic sense of "having special skills."

As J.B. Durrant showed, studying Eichstätt in the 1620s, a large portion of witchcraft accusations in the surrounding area related to women and healing...or rather, women and failed healing. Female healers might be accused of murder--through diabolical means--when their patients, especially children, died. Per Durrant:

Whether or not these particular instances of harm with diabolizations of actual attempts to cure (or perhaps even mercifully kill) people, or simply fictions, they were grounded in the ordinary experience of women as mothers and neighbours.

But often there was simply no reason behind witch accusations. This was especially true during mass panics. Inquisitors would torture a suspected witch until she or he confessed--and then confessed an association with many other witches in the same city. And then the inquisitors would go after those people, and so forth. The victims could include anyone. Even the mayor of Bamberg was burned at the stake as a witch. Studying Franconia, William Bradford Smith showed how a frequent pattern of persecution was to go after women linked to a single man, who himself might not be accused but was sort of the background target/source of societal suspicion (or political enmity).

The article's biggest flaw, however, is that it adopts a normatively male perspective on women's brewing. The author envisions women's brewing as the equivalent of a male-dominated industry: distinct styles of dress, permanent shops with elaborate signs, social recognition, a special set of skills, a cohesive group of businesswomen.

Nope.

Ale-brewing was mostly the gig economy of the Middle Ages, the Alcoholic Uber. The scholarly name is "occasional work." Women typically brewed for just their families. But in cases of financial need, they might start brewing more in order to sell it. (Some women did turn brewing into more of a standing profession, but occasional work was more typical). Brewing wasn't special.

Now, families did use signals to tell people that hey, they were selling ale at this time. According to Bennett, the "signs" were exactly as temporary as you'd think--some kind of branch or branches. Not quite a broomstick. In fact, when broomsticks start showing up in witch stories in the 16th century, a frequent association is...wait for it...sweeping. Additionally, early modern iconography--which we've forgotten today--associates cooking forks with witches in addition to broomsticks. Again: not something specific to a small subset of women.

The article can't even get right its "mic-dropping" conclusion:

With the poor quality of water before modern sanitation methods, these women played a vital part in keeping humanity healthy and nourished.

Brewsters absolutely did play a vital part in keeping humanity healthy and nourished--because ale had calories and hydration.

For one thing, medieval people absolutely understood the distinction between clean and dirty water. They also understood that boiling dirty water made it safe. (There's a 14th century letter that makes this abundantly clear, even referring to specific rivers whose water was not safe to drink). They didn't like drinking water because it was seen as the drink of beggars and sinners ("bread and water" penance, which I'm sure you've heard of).

And equally to the point: brewing ale doesn't raise the temperature of the liquid enough to sterilize it.

This article is an excellent illustration of why AskHistorians requires answers that are in-depth, comprehensive...and supported by current academic research.