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Free Coffee Bar Community Experiment
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If I repeatedly offer something free to a community or to a client, when do they become entitled to have it? For how long should this person recall my generosity? What about the nonprofit organizations where I gave too much for too long for too little? Should I expect this organization to be grateful, or even acknowledge all the pro bono work I performed?
Here is an anecdote I like to share about serving coffee to consider those questions.
The first time is always nice, with new visitors. When they arrive, in from the rain on a Saturday morning for the seminar, to discover our coffee bar. Just a pot of strong black coffee, ceramic mugs, sugar and milk. Those who didn’t arrive with a Starbucks to-go cup are so happy with this unexpected, delicious morning elixir. Thanks, Jeff, I hear all around. Day one, I’m the morning, coffee hero. Day two as well, for those who brought their own coffee on day one, arrive ready to be served on day two. In those first couple of encounters I am motivated by their appreciation.
In the next few days however, their attitude for my morning contribution quickly slides away from gratitude, into hope and expectation, and for some people, a sense of entitlement is born. This scenario has happened on so many occasions at the Dojo that it feels like we are running a coffee bar social experiment to understand community expectations. As my brother says: “People continue to behave just like people.”
Oddly, in our experience, groups are happier when I only serve the coffee on day one, provided I acknowledge that the coffee is here just for today. For it becomes an issue of awareness. Now I know the value of making people aware. This is not the opposite of altruism. Just like the rules for branding and advertising, without awareness, people are unlikely to care about your efforts. Moreover, your contributions may even have the reverse effects you intended to support their cause.
By midweek in these coffee bar experiences, I’m confronted by a silver-haired woman who is surprised that I don’t serve decaf. Also, she prefers cream. A hipster dude who looks like Leo Tolstoy says he was hoping for a medium roast instead of the dark roast. One day, I don’t arrive to the seminar early, alas I did not provide free coffee. When visitors discover no coffee, there is drama. They can’t begin their work. It is something we must discuss, to deal with. My donation, both the purchase and the set up time, has become an expectation.
Without awareness, I should count on my own pride of altruism as my only reward. I prefer to offer this in single shots of time and money. For longterm commitments of volunteerism, I believe it’s fair and healthy to discover appreciation at reasonable intervals, like the mornings, after serving coffee. This story is especially interesting to me because I live in a neighborhood of Portland that has eight coffee houses in four blocks. It’s no wonder there is such a demand for free coffee.