If you’ve ever seen the 2016 Best Picture winner “Spotlight,” you’ll notice something about journalists.
Nothing if not idiosyncratic, the movie’s main characters ― brave, real-life Boston Globe reporters who uncovered the Catholic Church sex scandal ― all dress in muted colors, drive old-model cars and are never seen without a cup of coffee in hand.
Coffee and journalists go together like peanut butter and jelly. Since “Spotlight” takes place in Boston, most of the coffee shown in the film comes in the form of large, iced (even in winter) cups of Dunkin’ Donuts.
Dunkin’ Donuts. Dunkin’. Dunk’s, for the brevity inclined. That pink-and-orange paradise suffused with the smell of sweet dough and strong beans. You’ve heard of it, right? I think there might be one around the corner if you’re looking to check it out.
Journalism is far from the only profession that relies upon easy access to cheap caffeine. And that seems to be the company’s whole ethos about its customer base, ad campaign after ad campaign. Far from Starbucks’ avid courtship of urbane tastemakers, Dunk’s wants you to come as you are ― in your scrubs, in your hard hat, with your press badge around your neck. They know how much milk and sugar goes into a “regulah” coffee; they’re easy like that.
That’s a recipe for success, right? So how come nobody in my newsroom will drink the stuff?
I’m personally not a big fan of the coffee (I’m just a snob), and my initial pass at this column was going to be a “pro/anti-Dunk’s” debate between someone who likes the stuff and myself. But, believe it or not, I couldn’t find anyone ― in an office of New Englanders ― who wanted to go on record as a Dunkin’ Donuts fan.
Even my news editor, who comes into the office every day Dunk’s in hand, says she only drinks it because “Starbucks raised their prices again, and I’m not paying $8 for a cup of coffee.”
It’s true that Dunkin’ has its populist appeal (channeled through hundreds of millions in yearly advertising), and they make smart moves by relating to the coffee dependent through product-placement spots in films like “Spotlight.” Still, I think the men and women behind the curtain might be going through somewhat of an identity crisis, and it might be having an alienating effect.
Something I’ve noticed in the past year or so: Dunkin’s main product-development strategy seems to be copying their competitors ― namely, if not entirely, Starbucks.
It probably all started with the Frappuccino. Dunks’ version of the frozen coffee shake — the Coolatta — came on the scene in 1997, after the Starbucks Frappuccino had a couple of years to gain notoriety. Since then, Dunkin’ hasn’t tried to hide its attempts to crib from its upmarket cousin: Since 2017, coconut-milk “refreshers,” brown-sugar syrup, on-the-go egg bites and the “cosmic Coolatta” were all hastily scratched together to mimic Starbucks originals. In previous years, Dunkin’ refitted its holiday-drinks menu to look suspiciously like Starbucks’. Even their rewards programs look the same.
I don’t know how long this strategy has actually been in place, but here’s what I do know: One way Dunkin’ is not trying to emulate Starbucks is in the quality of its coffee. Year after year, it remains watery and weak, and you need a lot more of it to get a caffeine buzz than you’d need from a dose of Starbucks. But you don’t go to Dunk’s to have the best brew you’ve ever tasted in your life (try Lynn’s Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee for that); you go to satisfy a need.
That consumer profile is not typically looking for a barrage of frilly product innovations. They’re looking for coffee… or breakfast (Dunk’s also apparently just took ham off their menu, further limiting a former strength of theirs: breakfast sandwiches).
What does Dunkin’ Donuts want to be? Do they want to be Starbucks? Because if they ever shelve their salt-of-the-earthiness for more high-falutin’ fare, then America ― and its bevy of hardworking professionals ― might not want to run on it anymore.
Is it donuts? Do they just want to be known for donuts? If so, I hope someone will tell CEO David Hoffmann that the Spotlight team’s ability to do their jobs is not dependent on a Boston cream.
