Tony's stash of textual information

My acquaintance refuses to buy coffee from a coffee-house because he says his money will sponsor wasteful behaviour.

An aspect of the coffee-house is latte art, and baristas do take pride in latte art, however extremely large amounts of milk and coffee must be expended to gain mastery in latte art.

One wonders what happens to the “practice lattes”. Well, the answer from an industry insider is that the coffee gets poured down the sink.

[did I hear a gasp of shock? ]

Yes, it brings a heartache to the layperson-observer, (and to me, too), but it appears that baristas worldwide have grown desensitised to this phenomenon. “It's all part of training.”

My acquaintance – who is a freegan – reasons that coffee-houses can do this with impunity because customers are, in fact, paying for the discarded cups of coffee. Sponsoring wasteful behaviour, in effect. The profit the coffeehouse makes from your payment is enough to offset the loss. Hence the boycott.

(this article features an example of a freegan's lifestyle. In brief, the freegan wants to reduce his participation in money-based transactions and rescue “waste”, such as edible fruits that would otherwise be discarded by a shopkeeper due to aesthetic “flaws”. )

At this point in the argument, a spokesperson of the coffeehouse would hasten to add that company protocols include diluting the milk with equal parts of water, for beginner baristas to practise with higher frequency at lower expense. (For the purpose of practice, of course, and certainly not for customer service.)

That certainly sounds reasonable.

However, the on-the-ground reality is that the coffee industry – or, rather, the latte art industry – does attract many young teenagers, who, more likely than not, act with emotional immaturity; enforcement might be an issue. Imagine a 25-year-old Outlet Manager trying to rein in giggling 19-year-old part-timers.

And unless the customer has become best friends with the barista-in-charge, it is unlikely the former can ask for one of the “practice lattes”, whether he offers to pay for it or not. Quite likely, the Head Barista will say: “I can't serve this to you as the latte art does not meet company standards.”

Why am I talking about this now? Newspapers have been reporting that coffee prices are increasing worldwide due to damage to coffee crops, in light of extreme weather. For example, unusually rainy weather at coffee farms might lead to unsanitary mould forming on coffee beans which have been left outdoors to (hopefully) dry. This means that entire batches of coffee beans (named “green beans” in industry parlance) are being condemned and regarded as not-suitable-for-sale, at the farm level. Such scarcity in green beans drives up coffee prices at the wholesale level.

This means that coffee-houses may, very likely, pass on the cost to customers. This certainly sounds unavoidable, and to their credit, at least one barista has expressed reluctance to increase prices.

However one wonders if all areas of inefficiencies have been addressed – or optimised – before the price increase. Ahem, ahem, I saw your employee pour ten lattes down the sink, in one hour.

An intelligent friend of mine has proposed a way forward: analogous to a hair salon that lets you pay different prices for your haircut based on each hairstylist's seniority and expertise, perhaps you could have different options at a coffee-house: pay a higher price for exquisite latte art from a Latte Art Competition Champion, or pay a lower price for a brown-coloured mix of milk and coffee, by a beginner barista.

This could resolve pain points from both the barista and the customer: some customers actually don't care about the 5-millimetre difference in the “swan's neck” in your latte art, while others do.

And I have heard baristas express irritation at oblivious customers who swirl the entire painstakingly-crafted latte art with a blunt spoon upon receiving their cup.

Let the couldn't-care-less customers pay less – and spare the over-worked baristas the effort of making latte art that would go unappreciated anyway – and let the I-want-quality customers pay more. Sounds good?

But, sadly I don't envision existing coffee-houses taking up this idea.

As well-explained by Niccolò Machiavelli in “The Prince”:

“It ought to be remembered that there is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. Because the innovator has for enemies all those who have done well under the old conditions, and lukewarm defenders in those who may do well under the new. This coolness arises partly from fear of the opponents, who have the laws on their side, and partly from the incredulity of men, who do not readily believe in new things until they have had a long experience of them.”

another solution I have come across – to reduce waste – is to employ the discarded milk-and-coffee mixture as materials for a cocktail named White Russian. However this seems to be the exception rather than the norm in present-day coffeehouses. A rarity, in fact. (And of course cocktail purists might scoff at the idea).

So, go ahead, then, sip your troubles away. Let your cappuccino comfort you as the planet burns and melts. As long as you are happy to hand over the money, of course. The customer happily pays, and the barista happily practises.

Am I happy? No, I am running away to the seashore, to listen to the ocean weep – far, far away from laughing humans.