Coffee Concerns and Compromise

My favorite mug

I wrote a few months ago about my concerns about my coffee.  I wanted to improve my carbon footprint, however slightly, but sticking to my decision to avoid plastic jars for my coffee and not to purchase products from Nestle, with the added step of reducing the fossil fuels needed (as far as I can tell) to bring my coffee to me.  That added step involved choosing my coffee from sources in the Western Hemisphere rather than the Eastern.  Well, it made sense to me.

That was in January, posted on the very day that Trump took his oath of office.

Then the Vigoro hit the Mixmaster, so to speak.  There were a slew of presidential orders signed on that first day and more yet to come.  The initial impact was for my selected source of instant coffee in a glass jar, not produced by Nestle but produced in the Western Hemisphere:  Target.  Target almost immediately caved in to the call to eliminate DEI from its company policies.  This is not the first time that Target has had some iffy stances on social issues.  I was not surprised to see the community call for a boycott of Target.  I went along with the Target boycott during Black History month quite willingly.  Except for a necessary visit to Target last month while in another city without transportation (the store was a block from my hotel, and I needed some supplies--including coffee), I haven't set foot in a Target store since they cancelled their DEI policies.  Human rights and the right to be treated fairly, without regard to factors of identity, is something that I believe in quite strongly.  

At the same time the rollback of DEI programs was being pursued, Trump was pushing tariffs on various countries for various reasons.  His weapon (tariffs) for economic policy (blackmail and extortion) and his waffling back and forth on when and how much to charge other countries (TACO) created a lot of uncertainty.  For my part, I had to join with all of the businesses--and consumers--who tried to keep up with his constantly changing policies and consider how they might affect my own bottom line.  Frankly, I have no idea about my bottom line.  Economics is way too complicated for me.  I have financial advisors who try to explain things to me--for my own good--and all I can see is a blurry, cloudy, white screen of foggy, mishmashy stuff.  

OTOH, I do understand coffee.  That is, I do understand that I need 1 to 2 cups of coffee every morning--not more--not later--black, no sugar--please and thank you.  Failure to have those cups means (a) a very miserable period of caffeine withdrawal (been there, done than, not gonna do it again if I can help it) and (b) a slower start to my morning at the keyboard than I care for (time flies; I need to work when I can).  

So, just like a lot of American businesses fearing the effects of these tariffs, I started stockpiling my preferred brand--in a glass jar, not manufactured by Nestle, but not, for the time being, sold by Target.  I now have several jars of Cafe Puro in my pantry, all purchased at good ol' HEB, which seems to keep chugging along, supporting libraries and other entities that Trump wants to do away with.  I do not yet have enough coffee to last through the entirety of his term, so I will do my slow stockpiling as long as I can afford it.  I will even put a little bit smaller portion of coffee in my cup (when I remember) so that I can make it last longer.  If all else fails, I suppose I could even try to limit myself to just one cup of coffee. At the moment, my coffee habit is likely to cost me an extra 10% from the EU tariffs, and I can handle that for now.  I couldn't handle the crazy tariffs Trump is trying to impose south of our border (and I am still not happy with Target).

This is about compromise.  I have values that I defined.  I had actions intended to support those values.  I encountered obstacles to my intended actions.  I then had to balance one set of values against another and choose my subsequent actions.  I do not feel good about my choices.  Why?  I think the boycott of Target was justified, and it did have a significant impact.  Whether that will be a lasting impact--affecting company policies and/or Target's tendency to waffle--is yet to be seen.  On the other hand, I didn't give up my coffee.  I even picked up some Cafe Bustelo when I felt I had to shop at Target for my needs while in Philadelphia last month.  In the grand scheme of things, my morning coffee is a minor factor.  Moreover, I also understand that this a personal preference and, therefore, a personal problem.  Nonetheless, it is one that I hope to resolve in my favor as long as possible.  While I have a little bit of a justification that need is as important as desire in (a) and (b) above, I am still not clear in my mind that I am making the right choice.  My conscience is bothering me, so I still have to figure out why--and what to do about it.

I will think about it over my second cup of coffee.

As Time Goes By . . .

Matthew Ies Spetter

I am working rather intently these days on assorted projects for Ethical Culture.  Most of this work is done under the auspices of the New York Society for Ethical Culture and the various programs in which I participate.  One of those programs is the Archives Committee, which I chair.  That can take up a lot of time now and then.  The other program is one which is going to take up a fair bit of time today and perhaps over the next few days.  The project of focus at the moment is writing a feature article for the new journal of the Ethical Culture Institute @ NYSEC:  The Annals.

The feature article is a "spotlight" of sorts on Matthew Ies Spetter, a leader for the second half of the last century and the first decade of this century.  My goal is to get several of his platforms, which have now been digitized, posted on the web for others to read.  I hope to do this with all of the leaders from NYSEC and from Ethical Culture in general.  The quality of the lectures, of course, varies.  Adler's own lectures were sometimes a bit of a mess, taking the long view of hindsight.  Even so, too many of our current members have little contact with people who have been trained in philosophy or the mainstream of our history of thought.  This is my effort to facilitate a little self-help.

And so I come to M. I. Spetter's platform of December 24, 1995:  "'As Time Goes By . . .':  Our Struggle to Connect."  Come September 15, it will be published online for all to read.  In the meantime, the first paragraph has already sparked my thinking about time. This post is not about Spetter, but about time.

Time is, I believe, a human construct.  Today is August 3, 2025.  We are taught where the "August" comes from (Augustus Caesar, not to be confused with Julius Caesar, who got July).  So, today we "honor" a dead emperor, who was also called Octavius.  This is the year 2025 by some accounts.  It has different numbers in other accounts.  This "year" is part of what sparked my thinking this morning:  We don't actually know how many times the earth has gone around the sun since this solar system came into being.  This could be the year 4,000,000,025 for all we know.  As for the 3, once you have the year and the month, I guess the actual day is pretty much, well, whatever.

Except.  When I typed the date, I mistakenly entered a 2 instead of a 3.  I corrected it and thought "Time really is flying."  The difference of one day, and yet I feel the pressure of the passing days.  Part of that pressure is self-imposed as I try to meet these self-imposed deadlines and goals..  Part of that pressure is the external deadlines that come from others, both near and far.  I have something to do on the 10th, so I have an obligation to others to honor my commitments to them by that date.  The State of Texas has assigned an expiration date to my drivers license, so I have to take care of that--in person--before that date.  The list seems to be quite long these days.  

Another pressure is life itself.  I'm not getting any younger.  The reality is that I am well past the halfway point in what is possible for a human lifespan.  These days the pressure that I feel from the passage of time says that I cannot waste what time I have left.  That in itself is odd.  What am I wasting?  Why not try to get the most enjoyment I can out of these last years?  Why not indulge myself in, say, the sensuous delight of vanilla ice cream with a sprinkling of crumbled Texas pecans?  

I feel this incredible pressure on my time because there is so little of it in any given day--and an unknown but definitely limited number of days left in this life.  I am performing a service for Ethical Culture in the work that I am doing.  At the same time, I am enjoying the hell out of it.  I love discovering something that has not yet been entered in the Bibliography.  I love the excitement of being able to add to that list, and I love searching the internet to try to find the book or article online so that I can see it, read it, and, very importantly, confirm its bibliographic history.  I love seeing a reference that I don't understand.  Well, of course, I want to understand it, so that means more searching and study.  I become a detective when searching for details of publication, of history, of connections to Ethical Culture, of connections among people and groups.  

At the same time, I find myself resenting interruptions.  The phone.  The door.  Even the cat.  Even my bladder.  Interruptions can interrupt my train of thought; then it might take time--even days--before I can return to the work that had me so absorbed prior to that interruption.  One consequence is a pile of "work in progress" projects that need my attention, sitting there waiting for me after that one interruption pulled me away.  It is my natural, probably human, attitude that makes me resent these interruptions, wanting to continue the pleasure of the work that I am doing.  Indeed, it might be compared to the delights of vanilla ice cream with a sprinkling of crumbled Texas pecans.  To indulge myself in that delight is to indulge in pleasure that, in some ways, will ultimately be harmful to my health (especially at this late point in my expected lifespan, given the effects of sugar and fat on my liver).  Indulging in my beloved work on the Bibliography--and the hoped for Ethical Culture Online Library--in important, not just to me, but, I believe, to others.  

Nonetheless, I can (finally) see the harm that I do to myself by spending so much of my time immersed in this work.  By resenting the interruptions, I am also resenting the intrusion of others into my life.  By "burying myself" in work, I am burying myself away from friends and family and the relationships that are key both to maintaining my humanity and to growing my sense of ethics.  Yes, I can (and do) grow in my understanding of ethics by reading and studying the work of those who have contributed to the body of thought associated with Ethical Culture.  Yes, I am performing a service for others, performing an ethical action, if you will, by doing this work.  But this work, alone, will not allow me to practice my ethics in human relationships so that I can learn from the practical experience of those relationships, putting, as they do, all that reading and studying to the test.

In his second book, To Deny the Night:  Reflections on Life and Essence, Spetter wrote:

It is quite true that we are born and that we die, alone. But as we live, we exist within the reach of one another and thus can justify hope and the enjoyment of life by our deeds. The fact of solitary emergence and exit is not what constitutes human tragedy. Tragic is that life which remains in alienated abstinence of relationship and obligation.

The need to live in relationship to others--reciprocal relationships based on mutual respect, caring, and, importantly, sharing of self--is a constant theme in Spetter's writing and lectures, extending from the earliest works to which I have access to the latest.  I want to continue with this work--truly, madly, deeply.  But I also want to try to focus less on the passing of time and more on the opportunity that these interruptions provide.  To talk about the meaning of life with my grandson.  To share memories and laughter with a girlfriend.  To listen to the caller from a non-profit who seeks my support, giving them a listening ear even if I can't give money.  To see the humanity in the young fellow who knocks on my door, offering to mow my lawn.  These interruptions take time away from the work that I want to do, but they also, I believe, keep me connected to others, keep me human--and teach me the value of patience.  Time is a human construct.  To spend it with others is not to waste it, but to use it to build relationships, to share love and kindness, to nurture the seeds of the future.

The Blame Game

Not my cat
AI image by Mr Zed at Pixabay

When something goes wrong around my house, I think about whose fault it is.  Note that, except for those times when my grandson is more or less camping here before moving on to his next residence, there's just me and the cat living here.  But somehow, all too often, the first thought in my brain is that my grandson broke it, or my great grand-daughter misplaced it, or someone who helped me at some point in the past put it somewhere that I just can't find.  Now, all of these things are possible.  My grandson is strong.  He often tightens lids beyond my capacity to open them.  He almost never puts the twister tie back on the bread.  My great-granddaughter--a beautiful nine-year-old now--does have a history of walking around with my stuff and then walking away from it after depositing it in some other location.  The cat, well, she mostly just sheds everywhere and occasionally barfs where I am sure to step.

What strikes me in this is that (a) stuff occurs and (b) my brain should know that.  So why does my brain so frequently try to allocate blame for the stuff that occurs?

One answer that is given to that question has to do with control and power.  That is, blaming someone--anyone--can give a greater sense of control over a troublesome situation by identifying a "culprit" and thus justifying our anger and frustration with whatever has happened.  Andrea M. Darcy explores some of the reasons why we resort to blame (it's easy, it unloads backed up feelings, it deflects our own personal accountability, etc.).  Blaming others, she points out, also has its cost--in personal growth and positive relationships.

While it is clear that I may have some work to do with my brain and how it copes with the frustrations of daily living, I think we see this Blame Game playing out on the big screen of our country right now.  Just this morning, our new President's response to the tragic deaths of 67 humans in an air crash near Reagan Airport was to blame his predecessors in office for incorrect policies and DEI, of all things, for this accident.  While we may eventually see the degree to which human error might have contributed to the accident, the BG being played out before us is very definitely an example of the use of blame for power and control.  

The situation in the American Ethical Union is somewhat less clear, but the Blame Game is still being played.  When programs and services are not being provided, the tendency is to shift the blame--to one's predecessors, to a racist system, to lack of participation by others, etc.  Some of that may indeed be true.  What is lacking here is a willingness to accept responsibility for one's personal actions.  Perhaps even more importantly, what is lacking is any attempt to overcome any of these barriers with positive corrective action.  Blame, after all, is soothing.  

Things are going wrong in our AEU "house."  This has gone on for a while--and the "family" is starting to grumble.  It's past time, I think, to look--each of us--at our own responsibilities and hold ourselves accountable, yes, but, better, to look for ways to overcome the stalemates and obstacles that have stopped all progress on mission and purpose, and get back to work.  Together, if at all possible.

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Coffee Concerns

Glass jar?

I made a choice some time ago that I would stick with Cafe Puro for my coffee needs.  I based my decision on two things:  It comes in a glass jar, and Nestle doesn't make it.  I drink instant coffee because brewing coffee takes up time and space that I don't choose to give to that activity.  I started drinking instant coffee when I was living in Lamu, Kenya, while doing the field research for my dissertation.  Ma Rukia, my cook,* would boil a kettle of water on the tiny charcoal "stove" that she used and give me a thermos of water to last the rest of the day for my coffee (or tea) needs.  With a microwave, now I don't need the thermos, but I do like the convenience of having my coffee fairly quickly without a lot of fuss.  Once I became aware of Nestle's exploitive practices and then of the evils of plastic, I made my choice.

Cafe Puro is, however, made from coffee grown in the Philippines and manufactured and shipped from Germany to my local HEB.  I had been drinking HEB's generic brand coffee because the taste was acceptable, and the cost was cheaper than name brands, but HEB coffee comes in plastic jars.  I still use my old plastic containers from HEB's instant coffee to store my Cafe Puro.  The container with the red lid is with caffeine, the one with the green lid is without caffeine.  The plastic containers, of course, are safer in the kitchen in case you drop one.  (I'll think about microplastics later.)  Wanting to make a change to buying coffee in glass containers is what made me realize that only Nestle seemed to place their instant coffee in glass.  Not wanting to knowingly fund that corporation, I was relieved to find Cafe Puro available at my HEB.  I decided (rationalized, yes) that even though it was grown in the Philippines, I could justify it as honoring the sacrifices that my father made to fight for their liberation from Japan during World War II (issues of colonialism in the past notwithstanding).  As for manufacture in Germany, I decided (again, rationalized) that, since the ships that bring this little bit of coffee to the US are going to sail anyway, I wasn't adding significantly to the consumption of fossil fuels by buying it.  And, anyway, it wasn't Nestle, and I was reusing the old plastic, and recycling the glass, and, well, doing my best.

Now I'm sitting in my hotel room in New York, sipping the Cafe Puro that I brought with me in specially saved mini-jars, carefully protected from breakage while packed in my luggage, and thinking about the ethics of my coffee.  That led to googling brands of coffee made in the Western Hemisphere.  Welp, we still don't grow coffee in Texas, but there is a fair bit of the world's coffee grown further south.  I'm looking at Cafe Bustelo right now, grown in Colombia and Mexico, and . . . sold in glass jars.  Sadly HEB doesn't seem to stock this version of Cafe Bustelo (they have ground and K-Cups and individual packages of instant), but Target lists it in several versions.  I can't tell from the pictures that all versions are in glass; that will take a trip to the store itself (when I get home).

In Ethical Culture we talk about trying to do what is right, but "right" sometimes needs some work to define it.  So does the "do."  My reasons for switching to Cafe Puro were an attempt to find a better way to get my daily caffeine, but now I think it's time to go a step further.  When I get back home, I will go to Target and see the Cafe Bustelo jars for myself.  If the local Target doesn't stock what I want (sustainably grown coffee with reduced shipping costs packed in glass jars), I can always order it for delivery--which leads to the next set of questions about what is "right" and what to "do" in regard to Amazon.

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*It was considered "bad form" for an mzungu to live on the island without hiring local residents to work in some capacity.  Ma Rukia cooked and cleaned and helped with laundry, but she also became a trusted advisor who helped me understand more about the local culture and its norms.  I couldn't have managed without her help.