cafe trend: suspended coffee

Famous social rights activist Desmond Tutu once said: ‘Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.’ While it’s easy to declare these sentiments on a Facebook status, it can be difficult to integrally act it out.

Little bits of good have become more convenient now a trend of generosity has spread through Europe and reached Australia. Suspended coffee is coming to a cafe near you.

‘When you order and pay for a coffee,’ writes Matt Holden in The Age, ‘You also order and pay for a “suspended” coffee for someone who can’t afford to buy one themselves. People who can’t afford coffee can go into a cafe and ask if suspended coffees are available.’

The tradition of caffe sospeso was said to begin in Naples cafes frequented by the working class. A kind person with spare change would buy a coffee on a tab for an unknown stranger, and someone down on their luck can ask for a free sospeso.

Around Australia, cafes have been adopting the idea. In Adelaide, Red Door Bakery in Croydon has been quick to jump on the bandwagon, while Melbourne St coffee and eclectic gift shop E for Ethel declared on their Facebook page that the suspended coffee tally is up to 57 coffees after one week.

The community of latte-drinkers has speedily embraced suspended coffee. If what Marilynne Robinson writes is true – ‘The great truth that is too often forgotten is that it is in the nature of people to do good to one another’ – we are innately generous. We want to give, we want to help others. While society encourages closing our eyes to the misfortune of others, suspended coffee creates a culture of giving without thought for return.

And giving can have a greater effect than a free flat white. Lismore cafe owner John Rees said in an interview with the ABC: ‘It can make a difference in someone else’s life to know a stranger out there cares.’

Letting a stranger know we care means we could have a more casual interaction with the homeless. At the moment, we’re used to paying taxes and dropping a few coins into the outreached hands of charity volunteers; it’s easy to leave the real work to the professionals. Our segmented idea of charity leads us to assume someone else can do it because we’ve paid them for it.

NSW newspaper, Northern Star, reports that the owner of Nimbin Stoned Fish is expanding the suspended tradition to include food. Imagine a world where organisations don’t need to feed hungry people living on the streets – because individuals are willing to pay credit so that strangers can tuck into a hot meal.

But not everyone believes suspended coffee is a pathway to a better society. Consumerist writer Laura Northrup describes the trend as stupid and inefficient, exclaiming that ‘Coffee isn’t a very nutritious food for the hungry.’ No, coffee might not rate high on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs; E for Ethel are in talks with Hutt St Centre about providing practical care for vulnerable people as well as warm coffee.

Northrup goes on to say drily, ‘You could also try having actual contact with people.’ Suspended coffee does hold an uncomfortable interaction at arm’s length; we don’t need to talk to the man sitting on the dirty city sidewalk. Instead, we give money to a shiny clean cafe and they give him a hot drink.

Starbucks fanatic Melody blogs her disagreement with suspended coffee, reminding us that ‘people don’t follow neat scripts’. She critiques the unimaginative dualism of wealthy people buying things for poor people. Also, Melody highlights the fact that people who are socially disadvantaged may not necessarily act in the way we expect or want; will they ask for a coffee nicely? Will they be a positive presence in the cafe’s atmosphere?

While some aspects of suspended coffee may be questioned, we know that there are many people down on their luck – be they living on the streets, or overrun with bills and unable to afford a cup of joe. Suspended coffee opens the door to doing a little bit of good that will, in fact, overwhelm the world.