The Absurdity of Single-Origin Office Coffee

Last week I watched our office manager proudly install a new coffee setup in the kitchen. Not just any coffee setup – a "$7,000 commercial-grade solution" with touchscreen displays, automatic grinding, and 15 bars of pressure. The email announcement claimed it would "revolutionize our workplace coffee experience."

Four years ago, I would have sent an encouraging reply, appreciating the investment in quality. Two years ago, I would have offered to help dial in the optimal settings. But last week, I simply watched as the same people who were excited about the machine poured the resulting espresso into cups filled with creamer and sugar packets from the gas station down the street.

The office design consultants are already closing this email. The "workplace experience" professionals are preparing their threads about how premium coffee amenities boost productivity and retention. But here's the thing: most office coffee is fundamentally absurd.

Sure, the beans are single-origin. The machine is top-of-the-line. The cups are compostable. But when the final product gets obliterated with artificial sweeteners and non-dairy creamers, we're engaged in an elaborate charade of coffee sophistication that fools nobody.

We've somehow convinced ourselves that installing expensive equipment automatically creates a culture of appreciation, a transformative experience that will turn casual drinkers into connoisseurs. We've turned coffee into another corporate status symbol, like Herman Miller chairs or excessive monitor setups.

But there's honesty in recognizing reality. The companies with sensible coffee setups aren't less forward-thinking – they're more practical. Practical about:

It's funny how the office coffee journey typically unfolds: You start with a basic drip machine, functional if uninspiring. Then you "upgrade" – you get the super-automatic espresso machine, the fancy bean subscriptions, the milk frother. You introduce coffee education sessions and tasting notes. You become enlightened.

But then, maybe, if you're paying attention, you notice nobody cares. Past the touchscreen interfaces. Past the Italian brand names. Past the workplace experience strategies. You return to simplicity – not because you've given up on quality, but because you've learned enough to know what people actually want.

The corporate amenities industry has us believing that more expensive coffee equipment equals happier employees. But that equation falls apart when you actually watch what happens after the installation excitement fades.

P.S. Yes, I still appreciate good coffee. No, I'm not suggesting serving Folgers. But there's now a simple drip machine on my home office desk, and I'm not apologizing for it.