Seoul, South Korea – In a move that has sent shockwaves through the latte-sipping, kombucha-quaffing corridors of corporate virtue-signalling, Starbucks South Korea has announced it will temporarily close 30 stores for a “history education programme.” The reason? A catastrophic miscalculation in which the coffee behemoth inadvertently waded into the murky waters of colonial revisionism, slipped on a banana skin of historical fact, and landed face-first in a vat of public outrage.
It all began, as these things usually do, with a marketing department staffed by people who think history is something that happens to other people. Starbucks, in its infinite wisdom, decided to launch a “cultural heritage” campaign. They plastered stores with images of old ships, thinking, “Ahoy there, chaps! Nothing says ‘warm, fuzzy feelings about the past’ like a nice galleon!” Except the ships in question were Japanese vessels from the early 20th century, a period when Japan’s colonial grip on Korea was so tight it left bruising that hasn’t faded in over a century.
But wait, there’s more. The campaign also featured the word “Daeguk,” a term from the Joseon dynasty. However, the font used was disturbingly similar to the Japanese imperial flag’s red sun design. To Koreans, this is the equivalent of a German company using a swastika motif to promote “heritage” sausages. The backlash was immediate, ferocious, and digital. Twitter, that great howling maelstrom of righteous indignation, erupted. “Starbucks is romanticising Japanese imperialism,” cried one user. “This is like putting a Nazi eagle on a pretzel,” howled another.
Starbucks, in a panic, did what all modern corporations do when caught in the crosshairs of history: they apologised, grovelled, and then announced a history lesson for their staff. Yes, you read that correctly. Starbucks South Korea will now be offering “history education” to its employees, presumably in the hope that they will learn to spot a controversial ship when they see one. The programme will cover Japanese colonial rule from 1910 to 1945, a period of brutal oppression that saw the suppression of Korean language, culture, and identity.
Now, let us pause and savour the sheer, breathtaking absurdity of this. A global coffee chain, known for overpriced frappuccinos and the miraculous ability to misspell every name on a cup, has decided to become an arbiter of historical truth. They will teach their baristas about colonial Korea, presumably between customers ordering a “venti, soy, no-whip, half-caff, extra-hot, caramel macchiato.” One can only imagine the training manual: “Section 1 – The Japan-Korea Annexation Treaty of 1910. Section 2 – The March 1st Movement. Section 3 – How to politely inform a customer that their name is not ‘Sunshine’.”
This is not the first time Starbucks has stumbled into the minefield of cultural sensitivity. In 2015, they launched a “Race Together” campaign in the US, where baristas were encouraged to discuss racial issues with customers. Predictably, this resulted in awkward silences, festering resentment, and a lot of coffee being thrown in the bin. Now they are doing it again, but with more history and a side order of international relations.
The real question is: why do corporations insist on wading into these quagmires? Do they not have enough problems? Burnt espresso shots, long queues, the eternal mystery of where all the toilets go? No, they must play historian, diplomat, and moral compass. They must “engage” with “heritage” and “cultural identity” as if they were just another product to be marketed. And when it blows up in their faces, they retreat, apologise, and offer a “learning opportunity.”
What next? McDonalds offering a course on the French Revolution? “Today’s special: The Storming of the Bastille with a side of McFlurry.” Or perhaps KFC will teach us about the Opium Wars? “Colonel Sanders’ Historical Insights: 1842, a very good year.”
In the end, Starbucks South Korea will close 30 stores for a day, staff will sit through a lecture, and then they will return to selling coffee. The cycle of cluelessness will continue. Meanwhile, the rest of us can enjoy the spectacle of a corporation trying to buy its way out of history with a seminar. It is almost enough to make you switch to tea. Almost.
