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Before I continue exploring the current state of Mexican specialty coffee, I’d like to explore a rather odd phenomenon I’ve come across in the coffeelands. As far as I know, no one has ever directly addressed this situation, and it leaves me with more questions than answers.

When I contemplate the mounting challenges confronting the future of specialty coffee, there are moments when hope seems elusive. Countless articles, blog posts, videos, and social media stories dissect the complexities of these challenges, but most days, it feels like the problems outweigh the solutions. This isn’t to condemn those who speak up; rather, it’s an acknowledgment that while we excel at highlighting the industry’s shortcomings. We often struggle to share and implement effective solutions benefiting farmers in real-time.

What I’m about to discuss might not offer a definitive solution. However, its widespread neglect has compelled me to pause and reflect on it, exploring how it could serve as a compelling case study for the broader industry. I refer to this phenomenon, jokingly, as the “tourist trap.”

Ecotourism, or tourism focused on encountering and engaging with natural environments and community based attractions, is long been established and appears to be a burgeoning industry. Urban dwellers seek environments where they can breathe clean air, revel in natural beauty, and immerse themselves in pristine surroundings. Personally, I consider myself fortunate to reside just a few minutes’ walk from a nature preserve. Although it spans only a few acres, it provides a sanctuary for me to unwind from the relentless pace of productivity. For an increasing number of individuals lacking access to such spaces, what better way to spend a vacation than basking in the sun, inhaling unpolluted air, and relishing the symphony of nature?

Costa Rica stands out as a frontrunner in promoting ecotourism, boasting vast expanses of protected land that have fostered thriving local plant and animal populations. These areas have naturally evolved into ecotourist havens, drawing a diverse array of visitors ranging from new-age enthusiasts to typical Midwestern families seeking beachside relaxation and family-friendly activities. In the past year alone, I’ve had conversations with several individuals from various backgrounds who have vacationed in Costa Rica, and many of them made it a primary point to immerse themselves in the country’s natural beauty.

However, amidst these varied experiences, one common thread emerged: a visit to a coffee farm. Nearly all the individuals I spoke with about their Costa Rica vacations recounted their excursions to coffee farms, expressing sentiments like:

“They brewed coffee for us right there on the farm, and let me tell you, it was the best coffee I’ve ever had!”

“I had no idea how much effort goes into producing coffee! It’s truly eye-opening.”

“I can’t bring myself to buy cheap coffee from the store anymore. Now, I only purchase beans from specialty roasters because they remind me of the exceptional coffee I enjoyed in Costa Rica.”

Upon further reflection, one thing has become abundantly clear to me: the specialty coffee industry is facing a significant challenge in educating and informing our customers, or better put, in transforming them from casual coffee drinkers to thoughtful connoisseurs.

For the majority of coffee consumers worldwide, coffee serves a singular purpose: delivering caffeine. It’s a utilitarian beverage. Despite the growth of the specialty coffee sector, it remains a small player compared to the behemoth that is commodity coffee. To most, coffee still represents a “luxury” commodity. Specialty coffee has long been striving to shift the larger population from mindless consumption to thoughtful appreciation of a superior product.

However, the transition from commodity to specialty coffee consumer is likely slow… due to our failure in effectively introducing people to the magic of specialty coffee.

One of the primary obstacles specialty coffee encounters is its price. Many consumers are reluctant to spend more on coffee, regardless of its claimed superior flavor, purported benefits to farmers, or even its sleek and sexy packaging. Brands like Maxwell House and Folgers, available in every major grocery store, offer coffee at incredibly low prices, a seemingly “unbeatable deal”. The true cost of this affordability, often disregarded by average consumers, is the lack of genuine sustainability for farmers.

Yet, there’s a growing number of individuals who are developing an appreciation for specialty coffee. They recognize its superior taste, potential health benefits, and (at least stated) positive impact on farmers. However, the transition from commodity to specialty coffee consumer is likely slow. This is partly due to our failure in effectively introducing people to the magic of specialty coffee.

And this is where I come back to the “tourist trap” phenomenon.

A few months back, during a conversation with a colleague involved in sourcing Guatemalan coffee, I expressed interest in expanding our sourcing efforts to include coffees from the Lake Atitlan region. Having tasted some exceptional coffees from this area the previous year, I was keen to explore further opportunities. However, his response caught me off guard: “Fat chance,” he said.

What followed was an eye-opening revelation. It turns out that many farmers around Lake Atitlan have found themselves in a position where they no longer require buyers like myself. The reason? Competition from an unexpected source: tourists.

Innovative cooperatives, associations, and individual farmers in the region have adeptly tapped into the influx of tourists drawn to Lake Atitlan, transforming them into a lucrative market for their coffee. Rather than relying on international buyers who often negotiate for the best quality at the lowest price, these farmers have shifted their focus to catering directly to the nearby audience seeking a “coffee experience” or simply locally produced and roasted coffee.

Instead of striving to produce the highest quality coffee with minimal defects, under-ripe seeds, and optimal flavor, these farmers are finding success in supplying commodity-grade or even low-grade specialty coffee directly to consumers in their vicinity, all while turning a profit. This level of direct consumer engagement and control over pricing is elusive for most farmers in the specialty coffee industry.

Far from being a grievance, this revelation has sparked my curiosity about the “tourist trap” phenomenon and its disruptive impact on traditional supply chains. It’s intriguing to witness how it empowers farmers, granting them greater agency in the value of their labor and challenging exploitative practices prevalent in conventional coffee trading.

Producing the most exceptional coffee demanded by the specialty market requires an immense amount of human labor. Conversely, the commodity market consistently undervalues coffee to the extent that many farmers end up operating at a loss to produce commodity-grade coffee each year. By catering to local tourists seeking gifts or a unique farm-level experience, coffee farmers tap into the inherent value surrounding their product, ultimately earning higher returns for their labor. In the best-case scenarios, this approach may yield significantly higher profits for significantly less work.

Do I believe people when they claim the best cup of coffee they’ve ever had was at a coffee farm in Costa Rica (or Guatemala, for that matter)? Not entirely. Yet, in a sense, absolutely.

Because the experience of sipping coffee in a remarkable setting—think of the chorus of birds, the picturesque landscapes, the awe-inspiring views, and the human connections—infuses that cup of coffee with unforgettable charm and pleasure. It’s not solely about the flavors; it’s about the holistic experience and joy of creating a completely unique memory. More often than not, the coffee they savored may fall short of professional standards like mine, but these individuals aren’t connoisseurs. They’re ordinary people seeking something extraordinary, an experience that transcends mere flavor. A cup of coffee brewed on a farm in Costa Rica will triumph over Maxwell House any day of the week! And this encounter may serve as a catalyst for consumers to forsake low-quality commodity coffee in pursuit of a more meaningful cup.

As we professionals continue to explore ways to get more money into the hands of coffee farmers, we must consider that the largest existential gap in coffee is between the farmer and the consumer. That distance has allowed and encouraged exploitation, and as it currently stands, continues to perpetuate systems that reward consumers but rarely reward farmers. I hope this trend of coffee farmers selling their products directly to consumers continues to grow, and that it becomes a viable method for closing the gap and ensuring they capture both a fair and equitable value for their product and labor.

All of this makes me wonder if in the future the best coffee I drink will be in a coffee-producing country. If I’m being honest, the “tourist trap” isn’t a trap at all; it may be the most genuine and sustainable way to experience coffee we have available to us today.