Starbucks Dilutes Original Passion
By Robert Wheatley

Starbucks and I are old friends. We go way, way back. All the way to Seattle where my agency career started at an Ogilvy & Mather owned firm called Cole & Weber — and before the brilliant Howard… Schultz bought the brand. The moment of coffee epiphany happened for me in 1980 at a swanky restaurant on Seattle’s Capitol Hill. In my early days as an account guy, was enjoying a client lunch when it came time to order the requisite brown swill at the end of the meal. Lo and behold, a moment of magic occurred when, much to my surprise, the coffee in the cup was unlike anything I had ever tasted before.

It had depth, sweetness, nuttiness, richness, body and taste. My eyes got big. I looked up searching for the waiter and stopped him in the aisle. “This coffee is incredible, where did it come from,” I asked. He replied that it was from this little coffee store in the Pike Place Market called Starbucks, and the name of the blend they used was titled 80/20 – now known as Café Verona if you buy it today. I ran to the store the next day. Inside was another world of aromas, bins of beans, machines whirring and helpful people dispensing wisdom about the origins and types of beans available.

I stepped to the counter and blurted out my 80/20 story. The guy smiled and instantly produced a cup for me to try once again. He explained the bean types involved, how they were roasted, how to make a perfect cup of coffee. I walked out of there with beans, a grinder, instructions and a newfound attitude about coffee. You have to remember this was the era of Folgers and freeze dried concoctions. No one, and I mean no one new the difference between an Arabica and Robusta bean, or the mastery employed by roasters, or the ins and outs of brewing to achieve the best result. This was new territory and a moment of sublime discovery.

I was hooked… And for years after Howard acquired the business, the brand grew on a simple yet defining principle: to bring the world a better cup of coffee. The counter staff was trained in bean knowledge. Customers were encouraged to literally tour the globe in sampling beans and blends from exotic destinations. The usual expression on the faces of Starbucks barristas was one of earnest desire to help everyone and anyone that entered their world to walk away knowing just a little bit more about better coffee. It was a mission, maybe even a religion. It worked. For years I never shut up about Starbucks and told everyone I knew or met about it.

When I moved to Los Angeles, there were no Starbucks stores at the time so I had it shipped. My coffee commitment never erred. No Saturday morning newspaper consumption experience could or would happen without my Starbucks coffee in hand. And upon moving to Chicago in 1989 I found the stores once again. I was saved — despite the fact I now lived in a city that produced arctic level temps and winds in the winter and palm trees were nowhere to be found. Oh well.

Success has a way of sometimes weeding out the magic and so too, Starbucks succumbed to bigness built on beverages not beans. The religion is long gone, the bean bins gave way to racks of CDs and the counter staff never discuss coffee lore or dispense bean wisdom. Brands gain momentum and traction based on passion and discovery. I still frequent Starbucks – remember I’m hooked. If you calculated the amount of money I’ve spent there in 28 years I suspect it’s worth a new car. It’s too bad though that the origins of greatness can be diluted on the path to ubiquity.

Can you go back to what made you great? Maybe. Maybe not. The momentum and infrastructure might not allow it. But wouldn’t it be terrific just to imagine that once again, the notion of bringing the world a better cup of coffee could reignite a belief that what’s in the cup is true magic. The kind that can make eyes wide with anticipation. In the end no amount of marketing communication changes the fundamentals of what you sell being the starting point for success. But we can dream can’t we? Think I’ll have another cup. By the way, my allegiance has shifted to Sulawesi from Verona. You should try it.