In a move that has sent tremors through the latte-sipping, pasty-faced corporate elite, South Korean Starbucks outlets have been ordered to close their chrome-plated doors for a mandatory historical re-education. The reason? A promotional poster for a new drink – the 'Jeju Grey Shaken Espresso' – which, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer to a Fabergé egg, featured an image of a Japanese colonial-era military aircraft. Aerial shame, indeed.
The backlash was swift and venomous, with Korean netizens, still smarting from decades of imperialist memory, unleashing a Twitter storm that would have made a monsoon look like a gentle drizzle. Starbucks, sensing a PR calamity greater than the time they served a soy latte to a lactose-intolerant bull, swiftly apologised and announced all 1,800 branches would shut for a 'refreshment break of consciousness'. Or, as normal people call it, a day off to watch a documentary and pray their CEO doesn't get fired.
Back in Blighty, where the nation’s retail sector is held together with string, sellotape and a stubborn belief that Brexit was a good idea, industry insiders have warned of a spread of this 'cultural tone-deafness'. One anonymous source, who spoke under the condition I don’t reveal that they work for a chain that once sold a 'Colonialism Cocktail' with a side of 'Pink Gin of the Raj', described the incident as 'a stark reminder that history is not a garnish to be sprinkled on a Frappuccino.'
Indeed, the problem is not unique to South Korea. British retailers, with their unerring ability to detect a social faux pas only after it’s been pointed out by a mob with smartphones, have a long and proud tradition of historical insensitivity. Who could forget the time a major department store launched a range of 'Empire Biscuits', complete with a paper crown and a map of Africa? Or the 'Slavery Sundae' that was briefly a thing at a seaside kiosk in Brighton before common sense intervened?
The truth is, corporations treat history like a costume box: something to be dipped into for a quirky aesthetic, then discarded when the party gets awkward. They fail to realise that these are not quaint artefacts but bleeding wounds in the collective memory. As the South Korean case shows, you don't get to decide when the past is a joke. The past decides when it’s done with you.
So, while the baristas of Seoul ponder the horrors of occupation over a cup of ethically-sourced lecture, the rest of the world’s retailers should take heed. Your next promotion might not be a drink. It could be a humiliation. And you won’t be able to put that in a reusable cup.
