Did Coffee Borrow More From Feminism Than Just the “Wave” Analogy?

We often conceive of coffee’s evolution in “waves,” a convention first used by Trish Rothgeb and borrowed from the feminist movement. But does feminism have more to teach the coffee industry than that

Photo by Taylor Friehl on Unsplash

By now, the idea of coffee’s “waves”—first, second, third—has become common parlance. If I say “third-wave coffee,” most consumers, even those who operate far outside of the industry, probably know what I’m talking about. I bet they could even point to a local specialty shop, or the latte in their hand, as an example.

The term has been used since the early 2000s, and is so well-established that news outlets and trend forecasters are always trying to predict coffee’s upcoming fourth wave. Heck, even those of us in the industry are trying to figure that out: Two years ago, I wrote an article proclaiming that we’re nowhere near the fourth wave. It’s still one of the most popular pieces I’ve written.

My argument was that the coffee industry’s three waves have each reflected substantial shifts in coffee production and consumption, which we haven’t yet seen take shape in a way that justifies a fourth wave. In the mid-century, during the first wave, sealed bags and airtight canisters revolutionized how and when we could consume coffee. Peet’s, a harbinger of the second wave, changed how we roast coffee in the 1960s. And small, independent shops have transformed how we view and pursue coffee quality in the 2000s.

Trish Rothgeb was the first to lay out that chronology, in an article written for The Roasters Guild in 2003. Rothgeb coined the term “third-wave” to describe what she was seeing in Oslo at the turn of the millennium, and subsequently defined coffee’s other eras as its first and second waves. Since then, it has become a ubiquitous framework for how coffee has changed over time.

But let’s go back to where the idea of waves even comes from. Rothgeb borrowed the term from the feminist movement, which has also defined its eras of theory and action into waves.

Today, in my Gender and Women’s Studies class—which has appeared a number of times on Boss Barista—we read an excerpt from Catharine A. MacKinnon’’s 1989 book, “Toward a Feminist Theory of the State.” (This was a validating, deeply angering, and brutal read.) 

In reading it—and in reflecting back on years of conversations with coffee colleagues, where we discussed questions like “Did we lose something when we shifted from the second to the third waves?”—I had a realization: Not only did coffee borrow terminology from feminism, but the industry has also borrowed some of its ideology—for better and for worse.  

SURFING THE WAVES

To understand this argument, we need to know how feminism’s first three waves—it’s now in its fourth—have proceeded:

• First wave: Late 1800s and early 1900s, focused on voting rights.

• Second wave: 1960s to 1980s, focused on a broader slate of issues like domestic labor, reproductive rights, and workplace equity. Both first and second-wave feminism benefited from the contributions of Black women and women of color, but the gains earned during these two eras are often seen as primarily benefiting upper-class white women.

• Third wave: incorporated a more intersectional lens, and focused on individualism in ways both good (embracing diversity) and bad (incorporating neoliberal ideals and valorizing individual achievement).

(As an interesting aside, feminism’s “wave” terminology also originated in articles. “First wave” came from a 1968 New York Times article by Martha Lear, in which she used the term to distinguish the mid-century feminist movement. And “third wave” came from Rebecca Walker’s 1992 piece, “Becoming the 3rd Wave,” published in Ms. Magazine as a response to Anita Hill’s allegations of workplace sexual harassment against Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas.)

It’s the understanding of third-wave feminism as both intersectional and yet neoliberal that got me to think about feminism’s relationship to coffee, beyond the pithy labels. In my class, as we talked about the excerpt from MacKinnon’s book, we had a lot of feelings. In the excerpt, she talks about gender dynamics being defined by coercion and subordination. She says in a patriarchal society, sex is never consensual because of these dynamics, and she argues that porn perpetuates themes of domination and control.

There’s a lot to unpack in MacKinnon’s argument, and rightly, many in the class articulated how her piece robs women of agency to make decisions about their sexuality and what they enjoy (it’s also heteronormative and assumes that what defines sexuality stems from cis-hetero sexual relations). If nothing is consensual, where does that leave women to take control or pleasure over their bodies?

I don’t agree with all of MacKinnon’s points, but I take parts of her argument as true. For example, I have an ungodly number of skincare products in my bathroom, and often think, “Do I actually like skincare? Or has society made me, a cisgendered woman, so obsessed with aging and societal beauty standards that I think I like this?” 

As we discussed the pros and cons of MacKinnon’s piece, we talked about the moment in history in which she was writing. The second wave of feminism was waning, and neoliberalism was beginning to define American politics wholly, pushing the ideals of individualism and self-determinism to the forefront.

Generally speaking, we’ve gained so much in moving to the third wave of feminism—and likewise in coffee. Both evolutions represent huge jumps in accessibility and inclusivity. However, I want to pause and consider what we’ve also lost in those shifts, particularly after neoliberalism entered the chat. Have we given up on thinking about overarching structures of oppression for the sake of individual achievement?

I see much of this discourse reflected in how we talk about coffee quality. For years, the rhetoric behind sourcing in many third-wave shops was something like, “We search the world over for the best coffees,” creating a myth that coffee quality was a sacred thing only certain roasters could find and certain farmers could produce. In a conversation I had last year with Brendan Adams of Semilla Coffee, he notes that this line of thinking assumes that capital alone will solve the problems of coffee, rather than analyzing the material conditions under which coffee quality may go up (e.g., money, resources, market access) or go down (e.g., cost of production constraints, climate change). It also ignores historical factors (e.g., the legacy of colonialism, the C-market as a determinant of price).

THE FLUIDITY OF WAVES

I think it’s a useful thought experiment, to reflect on the parallels between waves and movements in feminism and coffee. That said, I’m not convinced these waves are even as fixed as we commonly frame them. Going back to Rothgeb’s original article, I think her breakdown of the waves—as fluid categories designed to help customers understand coffee, rather than rigid lines—is incredibly relevant for this discussion.

“First Wave, Second Wave, Third Wave: this is how I think of contemporary coffee ... Each approach has its own set of priorities and philosophies; each has contributed to the consumer’s experience—and our livelihoods,” she wrote at the time. “Occasionally, the waves overlap; and one inevitably spills over to influence the next. What have we chosen to accept as conventional coffee wisdom? What have we rejected? What does the next wave have to offer?"

We also have to consider who the term “waves” is for. In 2019, 16 years after first using the terminology, Rothgeb reflected on the “third-wave” in a piece for the Los Angeles Times, written by Michael Paul Light. “When I talked about it it wasn’t supposed to be shorthand for the industry to engage with itself, but a way to bring consumers into our world and help them engage with us,” she noted.

The question of coffee’s impending-or-not fourth wave is one that’s gotten a lot of airtime in recent years. But I’m much more interested in understanding what we gain and what we lose when we think of the industry (and social movements) in waves—how such framing can be at once artificial and useful, constraining and revelatory.

And so, I want to put this out to you: Do you also see similarities in how coffee and feminist ideals have played out? How would you describe the parallels—and what do you think feminism has to teach today’s coffee industry? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.