PRODUCT SPECIAL ONE MAN'S EPIC QUEST TO SANITIZE YOUR FILTHY, GERM-RIDDLED COFFEE CUP LID
BILL
LEVEY HAS SPENT SEVEN YEARS WORKING ON A PRODUCT TO PROTECT YOUR
COFFEE-CUP LID FROM BARISTAS' GRIMY FINGERS. IT'S AN UPHILL BATTLE.
Do
yourself a favor when you speak to Bill
Levey about
takeout coffee cup lids: begin the conversation only after you've
finished your morning cup, and savor every last sip of it. Because it
will be the last you drink with your innocence intact.
When
Levey tells you that “coffee lids are one of the main
exposed and mishandled food service item out
there,” and that a 2010 study by the University
of Arizona found
up to 17% of the lids stacked by the sugar and milk in coffee shops
everywhere are already contaminated with fecal matter, he does so
with enthusiasm of a bottled water vendor anticipating a natural
disaster. As Levey talks about flu season and even Ebola, you will
find yourself staring at those stacks of coffee cup lids, so recently
an innocuous part of your daily landscape, and see danger. And then,
like Levey, you will see opportunity.
For
the past seven years, Levey has been working to invent a hygienically
sealed takeout coffee cup lid that he calls Clean
Coffee.
In essence, it is a standard plastic takeout lid with an adhesive
seal covering the drinking hole and part of the rim, which can be
peeled off like a sticker once the user is ready to drink from it.
“This is the simplest way to accomplish that objective,” Levey
says of his patented prototype’s design, for which he's currently
working to secure a manufacturer.
Though
he grew up tinkering with radios and other home
electronics,
Levey was working as a corporate lawyer in New York when the idea
came to him. “I was taking my coffee up to the office every day,”
he recalls. “People at the milk counter were sneezing, handling
money, and then handling the lids in the stack, taking two or three
accidentally, then putting those back. The baristas would honestly
hold their hand on top of the lid to slide the cup of coffee over to
me!”
Levey
doesn’t consider himself a germaphobe. He washes his hands before
eating, but he doesn’t carry hand sanitizer and admits his
apartment’s “shoes off” policy is loosely enforced. The
awareness around food came
from years worked as a waiter in restaurants, where safe food
handling practices were
drilled into him. “You don’t really forget that,” he says,
noting that in a restaurant it would be a unthinkable for a server to
deliver a customer’s drink with their hands touching the rim. Levey
wondered why coffee cup lids were the exception in an age where
nearly every other plastic takeout utensil (cutlery, straws, bottled
water lids) were mandated to be hygienically sealed.
The
modern coffee lid market began blossoming in the 1980s, when
America’s coffee shop and takeout culture grew quickly. Consumers
wanted to drink their coffees on the go, and with the rise of
Starbucks these drinks evolved from a simple cup of joe to elaborate
espresso concoctions with layers of frothy, foamy milk. “It’s a
hard thing to design, because it has to solve a lot of different
criteria,” says Louise
Harpman,
an architect who, along with her partner Scott Specht, has
the largest
collection of coffee cup lids (260
so far) in the world. It is a remarkable piece of design for such a
small surface; a light, malleable plastic object that perfectly
affixes to a cup of scalding hot liquid, is food
safe,
and ergonomically designed to not only deliver the perfect flow of
coffee (or tea) to the drinker through a small hole, but to do so
while regulating temperature, channeling spillage, preserving aroma,
and allowing the mouth feel of something like the fluffy peaks of a
double latte to remain intact.
While
some models, like the Solo Traveler (the one used by Starbucks,
designed in 1986) are market leaders, there is no standard lid. “Has
anyone reached design authority like a paper clip?” asks Harpman,
rhetorically. “No, we have not.” Harpman says there are dozens of
backyard, kitchen, and basement tinkerers like Levey constantly
trying to put out the next perfect lid. One of the latest, and most
high profile, is Seattle's Viora
lid,
founded by a Microsoft veteran, which pulls a large amount of liquid
into the cup's rim, to open the aromas for the drinker, and provide
an experience similar to drinking out of a mug.
Levey’s
design process focused on the most effective way to protect existing
lids, which he pilfered from anywhere that sold coffee. For more than
a year he would put in 12-hour days at his law
job,
return home, and tinker with coffee lids and other materials until
two in the morning. He experimented with everything from paper and
milk cartons, to the foil from cream cheese packages, and the little
stickers on bananas, on over a hundred lid designs. He invited
friends over and handed out bright lip-gloss and lip stick, then
asked them to drink from different lids, to see where there mouths
made contact.
After
enduring a patent process that he estimated cost him $30,000 in fees,
plus more for a second patent he withdrew (for a different lid),
Levey’s utility patent was awarded in 2012. That turned out to be
the easy part.
Manufacturing
lids at
a scale large enough to enter the market, even as a prototype big
enough for small coffee shops, has proven more difficult. The
industry is dominated by a handful of lid makers, and they control
distribution to chains big and small. While Levey’s preference is
to license the Clean Coffee design to one of these companies, he has
also explored the option of manufacturing and
selling them himself, though he’s yet to find the right factory to
make them, and he estimates an initial run would cost him upwards of
$100,000.
“It
seems simple to add a sticker to a coffee lid,” Levey says. “But
they don’t seem to be able to get it done. You’re adding a step
to the process, and some of the machines press a million lids a day,
so you’re slowing it down. The alternative is two separate
factories and shipping, and the cost is prohibitive for a lid,”
which needs to cost between two and six cents, he says.
Experimenting
with lids is also a risk few coffee shop owners find worth taking.
David Ginsberg, who owns the successful White Squirrel coffee shops
in Toronto and goes through 50,000 to 75,000 lids a year, had to
switch to the Solo Traveler a few years back, after a lid made by an
independent, local manufacturer suddenly declined in quality, and
started causing coffee to leak onto customers. He’s skeptical the
demand is there for Levey’s hygienic lid.
“I
have yet to hear anyone say to me ‘Oh these lids are dirty,’ or
‘I’m concerned about the sanitaryness of lids in general,’”
Ginsberg says. “It would take a consistent demand by customers
only, and one that I could not beat back. The potential for fear
mongering with this thing is potentially large. But if he gets the
word across that lids are dirty and scary, who knows?”
Lid-loving
Harpman has a different take. “The best designers solve problems
that we don’t know we have,” she says. “He may be onto
something.” Harpman says she personally understands this. Her
grandmother’s company, Dial-a-Pik, was once one the largest
supplier of toothpick dispensers in the country, until regulations
changed, requiring toothpicks to be individually wrapped. The wrapped
toothpicks didn’t fit in the machines, and the company’s business
disappeared.
Levey
is petitioning for legal changes that would foster demand. This past
spring he asked New York’s commissioner of health to consider a
change to the health code, requiring that drink lids be sealed in the
same way that straws are. “If the Health Department thinks there is
a public health risk/issue with the service of straws,” he says,
“then the risk is exactly the same with coffee lids.” He hopes
the Commissioner will propose some sort of rule to the Board
of Health by
year’s end, though he’s patient, after nearly seven years in
pursuit of his dream lid.
“I
didn't expect this to happen very quickly,” he says. “This is not
a fad
product.
It's about changing an industry standard, which can take time.”
When (or if) that time ever comes, Levey looks forward to the first
cup of coffee he’ll be able to drink from the first Clean Coffee
lid off the line. “I don’t think I’ll ever smile bigger.”
BY DAVID
SAX
http://www.fastcompany.com/3038551/most-creative-people/one-mans-epic-quest-to-sanitize-your-filthy-germ-riddled-coffee-cup-lid?utm_source=mailchimp&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=fast-company-daily-manual-newsletter&position=erin&partner=newsletter&campaign_date=11192014
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