
The CREDO Dispatch #002
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Welcome to The CREDO Dispatch #002. This time I want to talk about the Name-Your-Price system that we used to have in the cafes. But wait—didn’t you end that system shortly after you took over the company? Yes, I did—and we'll discuss why in a future edition. But naming your price was such an integral part of CREDO’s history (and for everyone in our City who came to know us, and themselves, by it) that it would do us all a disservice to pretend it didn’t exist, to carry on as if it had never been so. Once it has been recorded and preserved —honored for what it was and for what good it bestowed on us and our City— only then can those who come after us understand it, having not experienced the thing itself.
Of course, I brought an end the system. That alone should hint at my disposition towards it. But really, I merely brought a swift ending to a system that was making expiation for itself. I have my critiques, but in order to understand them you must first understand the system itself. My vision for CREDO isn’t born in a vacuum; nor did it sprout by pure abstraction. We are all products of our material conditions and my viewpoint on the coffee industry, business ethics, philosophical grounding and more were born in the name-your-price system, molded by it.
There is a purpose to all these writings: to chart our path forward. But to cast a vision for where we’re going, we must orient ourselves in the present— and for that we must ground ourselves in the past. So once again, allow me to turn the dial back to yesteryear…
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Starting in late February 2024, CREDO’s cafe had set prices. What a strange sentence, right? The uninitiated may read it and think, “As opposed to what??” Well, my friend, let me tell you.
CREDO was founded in 2010 and opened the doors of its first café in 2011. We were a 501(c)(3) non-profit at the time, but most retail and service-based non-profits have set prices, so even among our peers we stood apart. A customer would come in, order drinks and pastries, and be met with the disorienting question: “How much would you like to pay for that?” Cue the amused confusion. A barista would then explain:
“At CREDO, we think buying coffee is a big deal. You can’t grow coffee in Florida, which means there’s no such thing as local coffee. Any time you purchase coffee anywhere, you’re engaging in global systems. Your coffee travels from the hands of farmers across rivers, mountains, and oceans to get to you. Farmers are the most vital link in the supply chain, yet they’re often the most exploited workers in the global south. At CREDO, we’ve gone out of our way to create direct-trade relationships with Central American farmers to cut out exploitative middlemen and get as much money into the farmer’s hands as possible. We want to give you the opportunity to decide how your purchase is going to impact those global systems and the farmers we work with.”
The reactions we received as baristas were varied. Annoyed, amazed, confused, excited, and even offended or antagonistic. “That is so cool!” and “I love it!” were often heard, and those customers would usually pay the suggested price, or occasionally assign an extra dollar’s value to the cup of coffee.
“Wow I’ve never heard of that before!” In my early days at CREDO I scoured the internet to find similar concepts. I could only find a bakery in Mecca and a sandwich shop in Denver that advertised themselves as donation-based or name-your-price. As the years went by, the model became less foreign to people, who might cite their own example of a company they heard of that did this, and even “Ohh! I just did this at Framework [an Orlando coffee company whose founder was an early CREDO regular] last week!”
“That’s a stupid business model. There’s no way that can work.” I liked this one, because I could easily respond with “Well we’ve been open for _x_ years now so something must be working. How much do you want to pay?” My first day at CREDO was in its 7th year, and we ran the Name-Your-Price system for another 7 after that, so any point in my time with the company this was effective at shutting down this customer whose business sensibilities we were offending. Without fail, the person to make this comment was a man wearing a suit.
“What if I don’t want to pay anything?” Believe it or not, I loved this question most of all. It allowed me to cut straight to the crux of the issue by parrying the customer’s quip of wit with a challenge to their Will and self-determination:
"Well, it’s not free, so you have to pay something. But you’re welcome to pay a dollar, which is our credit card processor’s minimum transaction value. We designed this system because we think that the choices we make determine who we’re becoming. So -like I just said- we want to give you the opportunity to decide how your purchase is going to impact our systems, But at the same time, we recognize that in making that choice, you’re choosing what kind of person you want to become. If you want to be the kind of person that pays a dollar for a coffee when the suggested price is $5 and I just explained to you that we support exploited farmers, be my guest. So... what kind of person do you want to be?”
On occasion, the defiant Will doubled down and paid a dollar. But more often than not, they would become suddenly bashful and pay $6.
Since we had to ask every customer what they wanted to pay for their coffee, these conversations and ideas became ingrained in our minds as baristas, going through this process with every new customer, some days 30 or more times in a shift. We mastered longform explanations, elevator pitches, and the art of balancing deep dialogue with efficient service.
A common misconception was that the Name-Your-Price system was created so that our coffee would be accessible to people across all income levels- or lack thereof. And while it did help our homeless neighbors gain access quality coffee, that was a side effect—not the goal. Our aim was consciousness-raising: to make consumers confront their role in coffee’s journey by giving them autonomy in a crucial moment of impact that will reverberate back down the line to the producer.
The supply and value chains in our world are inherently exploitative. Traders, importers, and exporters slash the prices they pay producers to boost margins. To get higher margins, they must to cut into the producer’s side of the equation because our so-called “free market” determines the final Price Index of the commodity, making it so that traders cannot extract further profit from consumers and can only control costs. For this reason, Ben went out of his way to establish Direct Trade relationships with producers, making CREDO one of the pioneers in the industry. Dollar for dollar and pound for pound, producers receive a higher return for their goods when working with us, if only because there are no extra middlemen vying to make a buck without contributing to the change in the value of the commodity during their link in the logistic value chain.
That’s why we say, “Buying Coffee is a Big Deal,” and that’s why we used to have customers name a price their coffee at CREDO. We gave each person a chance, for once, to reject the apathy of passive consumerism, by taking ownership of the impact of that final link in the supply chain. CREDO has always afforded us the opportunity to take steps towards becoming the person we want to be but may not be yet, to build the city we want to live in, and live in the world as it one day might be. We aimed to create a system whereby naming the price for your coffee, and further by choosing to do so at CREDO instead of larger chains or other shops, we allowed customers to be people of impact by actively engaging in our system as we sought to undermine traditionally exploitative Relations of Production by trading directly with producers.
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At CREDO, we recognize that our lives are bound in cycles of interdependence. We exist together in our city, but the systems and conditions under which we live encourage isolation. We know that the world is not yet what it ought to be. Neither is our city. Neither are we. So we hold contempt for the status quo and engage in the struggle to overcome its contradictions. We believe community-building is revolutionary in a society that encourages isolation and self-sufficiency. We do what we must to live today in the world we want to see tomorrow. It is not sufficient to philosophize and interpret the world in our various ways. We must seek to change it. CREDO exists to change the world—one cup, one choice, one co-conspirator at a time. As we lean into this reality, we produce something wholly new; the world as it ought to be.
So hop over to our website to join our community and support the work we do by buying a bag of coffee, or consider subscribing to a regular delivery so when the next Dispatch drops you can be ready to with a freshly brewed cup of CREDO coffee.
Until next time,
Nate
1 comment
“Without fail, the person to make this comment was a man wearing a suit.”
Beans aren’t the only things you’re roasting, I respect it!!