Craft Beer And Millennial Values

It has been pretty well established that it is the Millenial cohort who are driving consumer demand for craft beer. According to Michael Dimock of the Pew Research Center, Millennials are those individuals born 1981 and 1996; making them between the ages of twenty-two and thirty-seven. We know quite a lot about Millennials. Thanks to market research firms,  public opinion researchers, and fact tanks such as Nielsen, Gallup, and the Pew Research Center, we have a lot of data and information about Millennials as citizens, voters, and consumers. Research on Millennials often compares them to preceding generations – Generation X (born 1965-80), Baby Boomers (1946-64), and the Silent Generation (1928-1945). And what we have learnt is that each generation has unique values and perspectives.

Different generations defined. Source: Dimock 2018

One study that I read recently, was published by The Boston Consulting Group (BCG). It was titled, How Millennials Are Changing the Face of Marketing Forever. The study report included a number of interesting graphics, including the one below (Exhibit 1). The graphic shows the relative importance that Millennials and non-Millennials attach to a number of different factors. These include patriotism, professional success, spirituality, and working out.

Source: Barton et al. 2014.

As I perused the findings of BCG’s research, I tried to identify connections between craft beer and Millennial values. Here is what I think I identified.

Status

BCG identify status as a value that is important to Millennials. A number of scholars have suggested that craft beer is a high status product. These include my good friend Tom Bell and his colleague James Baginski who, in a 2011 paper published in the Southeastern Geographer, refer to craft beer as a “high order prestige good”. Similarly, in a book chapter published in the same year, Victor and Carol Tremblay talk about the  “prestige factor” of drinking craft beer. In a 2012 paper published in British Food Journal, Douglas Murray and Martin A. O’Neill, published in the British Food Journal, suggest that the craft beer drinker is “sophisticated” and “discerning”. The same observations have been made with regard to real ale drinkers in England, where Karl Spracklen, Jon Laurencic and Alex Kenyon, in a 2013 paper in Tourist Studies, note that drinking “real ale is seen as a marker of good taste and distinction”.

Millennials enjoying a beer at Basecamp Brewing Company in Portland, OR

Luxury

According to BCG, luxury is another characteristic valued by Millennials. Craft beer, I would argue, is a luxury product. More specifically, it is an affordable luxury. To the French-American author, Mireille Giuliano, luxury means ”premium quality and that doesn’t always equate to known brands or mascs marketing”. Speaking specifically about the Millenial cohort, Max Montgomery defines affordable luxury as “achieving quality, tailored to our taste, at a price we can afford.” Craft beer, it would seem, qualifies as an affordable luxury. Compared to mass produced beer,  craft beer is relatively expensive. Of course, the price you pay for beer depends upon where you live. In 2017, the cost of a case of Bud Light or Miller Lite varied from $14.62 in Michigan to $21.98 in Pennsylvania.  In comparison, the average cost of a case of craft beer, nationwide, in 2017 was $32 – that’s $1.33 a bottle – definitely what I’d call an affordable luxury.

Craft beer is an affordable luxury (Backcountry Brewing, Squamish, BC, Canada)

Excitement/Adventure/Travel/Fun

MiIlennials like excitement, adventure, travel, and fun. All four can be experienced in the consumption of craft beer.  In 2013, A. J. Carpenter and his fellow students completed a term paper for their Marketing 6069 class (Buyer/Consumer Behavior) at University of Colorado, Denver. In it, they identified four types of craft beer drinker – novice, loyalist, enthusiast, and explorer. According to Carpenter et al’s study, Most craft beer drinkers are either enthusiasts or explorers. While there are some key differences between enthusiasts and explorers, one trait they have in common is their desire to try lots of different craft beers and to visit lots of different craft breweries. In other words, drinking craft beer is an exciting adventure; an adventure that takes the craft beer from tap room to tap room to taste the beer at its point of production. This idea that craft beer drinkers are excitement seeking adventurers is supported by the growing popularity of craft beer tourism. Annually, more than ten million Americans go on a brewery tour. Ale trails are increasingly common and help beer tourists strategically navigate a city or region’s craft breweries. The term ‘beercation’ has entered the lexicon of the craft beer drinker. Craft beer festivals (literally dozens of them occur every year across the United States) attract the craft beer aficionado and allows her to sample a wide variety of beers within the time frame of an afternoon, evening, or weekend. At the same time, the highly popular app Untappd enables the craft beer drinker to log the beers he consumes, while enjoying the fun of earning badges along the way.

Millennial beer tourists at Heist Brewery in Charlotte, NC

Charity

Brew Good Do Good is the motto of Black Cloister Brewing Company in Toledo, OH

With one of two exceptions, craft breweries are owned by people living in the community in which they are located. As a result, craft brewery owners tend to very committed to the well-being of their communities. To this end, they tend to be very supportive of local charities. The media is replete with specific examples of  craft breweries giving to and/or supporting good causes. Brian Yaeger refers to craft brewers as “liquid philanthropists”.  And craft breweries tend to be more generous in their charitable giving than the macro-Brewers. In 2014, craft breweries gave $3.25 for every barrel of beer brewed. In contrast, AB InBev, through its charitable organization, gave only $0.35 per barrel. As the motto of one of my local craft breweries in Toledo, OH (Black Cloister Brewing Company) proudly states – “Brew Good, Do Good”.

Change and Optimism

Change and optimism are Millennial values. Both are abundant in the craft brewing movement. Craft breweries are agents and representatives of change. From a handful of craft breweries in the mid-1980s, the number of craft breweries in the United States now exceeds six thousand. Craft breweries account for 12.7% of the American beer market by volume and 23.3% by dollar sales. These numbers represent change; dramatic change. But the change is not just found in the numbers. The change can be experienced with our eyes, our ears, our noses, and our taste buds. I experience  it ever time I walk into the taproom of a craft brewery and see it filled with young people; men and women, enjoying a beer that has been carefully and lovingly crafted by the brewmaster. I hear it every time I listen to two or more people discussing the finer points of an IPA or debating which craft brewery is producing the most innovative brews. I smell and taste it when I lift that an IPA to my lips and I smell and then taste the aroma and bitterness of the hops. More than anything, I would submit that craft beer’s success happened because its early pioneers had optimism – an optimism that hinged on the belief that there were enough Americans out there who wanted better beer. It is an optimism that resurfaces every time a new craft brewery opens it doors.

Enjoying the taste of optimism at Mad Anthony Brewing Company in Fort Wayne, IN

There are a couple of values that appear in the upper left hand (non-Millennial) quadrant of Exhibit 1 that surprised me. Surprised me in the sense that I would have perhaps expect them to be values that resonated with a Millennials. Two in particular are authenticity and craftsmanship. Authenticity is a particularly slippery concept. And I really don’t want to get into any of the authenticity debates here. Suffice to say, that at the 2017 Craft Brewers Conference, Brewers Association Bob Pease identified the four pillars of the craft brewing  movement – independence, spirit, community-mindedness, and yes, you’ve guessed it, authenticity.  As for craftsmanship, one might have also expected that to be more important to Millennials, than indicated by the BCG study.

Further Reading:

Barton, Christine, Lara Koslow, and Christine Beauchamp. 2014. How Millennials are changing the face of marketing forever. Boston: The Boston Consulting Group.

Dimock, Michael. 2018. Defining generations: Where Millennials end and post-Millennials begin. Pew Research Center FactTank, March 1.

Hop Pickers, Picking Hops

I’ve been reading a lot about the hop industry recently. My interest in hops at this particular point in time stems from the fact that I am working with some colleagues from Rutgers University, Pennsylvania State University, and Simon Fraser University, on a project funded by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The primary goal of the project is to identify which agricultural commodities exhibit knowledge-driven locational clustering and, where such clustering exists to isolate the specific underlying drivers.

Part of the project involves doing case studies of particular specialty crops, with a view to understanding the geography of their production. With my interest in the brewing industry, I volunteered to lead a case study of the American hop industry. I was particularly interested in documenting the impact of the growing popularity of craft beer on hop production – not only changes in which varieties of hops are being grown, but also where these hops are being grown.

As I started searching on Google Scholar for scholarly pieces on the hop industry, I came across a couple of papers that explored the decline of the hop industry in various parts of England during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. One of those pieces, interestingly enough, was by a young Assistant Lecturer of Geography at the University of Bristol, by the name of David Harvey. As my Geographer friends know, Harvey would go on to become one of most influential  geographic thinkers of the twentieth century. It is interesting that one of his early papers examined changing land use patterns in Kent’s hop industry.

Another paper I found was written by Paige Raibmon. It explored the hop picking industry in the Puget Sound area of Washington in the late nineteenth century. It focused, in particular, on indigenous women who worked in the industry. In the northern hemisphere, hop harvesting lasts for approximately six weeks, starting in mid-August. During this period, there is a need for seasonal labor. As a result, thousands of people from the surrounding regions would  migrate to the Puget Sound. These included large numbers of indigenous peoples. Such was the demand for hop pickers in Washington state, that an  estimated twenty-five percent of British Columbia’s indigenous population traveled to the Puget Sound during the hop harvest. Of those who migrated south, the number of women outnumbered men. The indigenous women, it turned out, were particularly hard working and adept at picking hops. Indeed, popular accounts of the time often noted the industriousness of indigenous women. Writing in 1898, Susan Lord Currier, observed that:

“the Indians, on the other hand, gather the hops they pick into woven baskets. They pick with a deftness and skill rarely equaled by the whites. Even old Indian women in their dotage and almost blind, manage to pick their three boxes a day, while the white man or woman who picks two boxes a day is considered an expert”.

While working in the hop fields, the indigenous hop pickers became something of a tourist attraction. Every day, hundreds of visitors traveled to the hop growing regions. They did so for the opportunity to see “authentic Indians”. They traveled by carriage and interurban passenger trains, and stayed in hotels that had been built, by entrepreneurs, near the hop fields. Indigenous hop pickers would often pass through Seattle on their way to and from the hop fields. In Seattle, they would stop-off and sell handmade wares such as baskets from the sidewalk. Locals and tourists alike would also pose for photographs with the indigenous travelers, with the latter receiving payment in return.

Indian hop pickers, Puget Sound, WA, circa 1895-1900. Photograph by Frank La Roche (1853-1934).
George Orwell’s “A Clergyman’s Daughter”

As I was reading Raibmon’s account of indigenous hop pickers in Washington, the name of one of my favorite authors, George Orwell, popped into my head. I have read almost everything that Orwell has written, including his essays. Like most people that have read it, I found Orwell’s 1984 to be a particular haunting piece of work. Another one of Orwell’s novels is A Clergyman’s Daughter.  Published in 1935, it tells the story of Dorothy  Hare (a clergyman’s daughter) who suffers a bout of amnesia, and as a result, ends up wandering the English countryside with three hobos – Nobby, Charlie, and, Flo. The four of them decide to head to Kent (the same part of the country that the aforementioned David Harvey wrote about) in southeastern England to seek employment  picking hops. In telling the story of Dorothy and her three friends, Orwell provides some interesting insights into the life of a hop picker in 1930s England. Most hop pickers fell into one of two broad categories. First, there were the  Gypsies. Second, there were individuals and their families from poorer parts of London, who regarded hop picking as a working holiday. During the hop harvest, they descended on Kent and other hop growing regions of England. Indeed, by the 1870s special trains were laid-on to take families from London to the hop fields.

Pickers worked six days a week. Sunday was a day-off. The work day started at 8am and ended between 5pm and 6pm; this period included two meal breaks. While picking hops was not a particularly difficult task, and was quite mechanical in nature, the tiny thorns that were found on the stem of the plant meant that the pickers’ fingers were soon bleeding in multiple places. “Measurers” would make their rounds twice a day. Their job was to measure the number of bushels each group (often a group comprised a family) had picked. Pickers were paid by the bushel. There were tricks that the pickers learned, which were designed to maximize their income. For example, while “foreign” material such as leaves and stalks in the collecting bins were undesirable, a certain amount was tolerated. The gypsies were particularly adept at knowing how much of the contents of their bins could be foreign material, without jeopardizing their wages.

Pickers lived in tents, barns, and stables. Conditions, from a hygiene  perspective, were generally poor; even being described as “squalid”. The camps became breeding grounds for a variety of diseases. In 1849, cholera took the lives of forty-three hop pickers on a single farm. So poor were the conditions that, in 1866, two priests established the Society for Employment and Improved Lodgings for Hop Pickers. During the second half of the nineteenth century hopper huts became increasingly common. A typical hopper hut was nine feet by nine feet and was made from a variety of materials, including timber (surrounded by corrugated metal), brick, and breeze blocks.

A hopper hut near Lamberhurst, Kent. This photograph comes from the Oast House Archive.

Orwell’s account of hop picking in his novel was based on actual experience. In 1931 Orwell went hop picking in Kent. He recounted this experience in an essay, titled Hop Picking, published later that year (under Orwell’s real name, Eric Blair) in the New Statesman & Nation. While Orwell bemoaned the low rate of pay received by hop pickers, there is a sense from reading his New Statesman essay that he enjoyed the work:

“One can talk and smoke as one works, and on hot days there is no pleasanter place than the shady lanes of hops, with their bitter scent – an unutterably refreshing scent, like a wind blowing from oceans of cool beer.”

Hop-picking in Yalding, Kent, England, UK, 1944 Mr and Mrs Boulton and their three year old son Billy pick hops on a farm in Yalding, Kent. The Boultons are placing the picked hop cones into a large ‘bin’, which is made from canvas and supported on a wooden frame. This photograph is from the collections of the Imperial War Museums.
W. Somerset Maugham’s “Of Human Bondage”

Another author who describes hop picking in Kent is W. Somerset Maugham. He does so towards the end of his 1915  novel, Of Human Bondage. While providing a less detailed description of hop picking than Orwell, Maugham’s account is consistent with Orwell’s. Here is a passage from Maugham’s work:

“They were all hard at work, talking and laughing as they picked. They sat on chairs, on stools, on boxes, with their baskets by their sides, and some stood by the bin throwing the hops they picked straight into it. There were a lot of children about and a good many babies, some in makeshift cradles, some tucked up in a rug on the soft brown dry earth. The children picked a little and played a great deal. The women worked busily, they had been pickers from childhood, and they could pick twice as fast as foreigners from London. They boasted about the number of bushels they had picked in a day, but they complained you could not make money now as in former times: then they paid you a shilling for five bushels, but now the rate was eight and even nine bushels to the shilling.”

Today, hop harvesting is a highly mechanized process. As is the case with many other industries, the worker had been replaced by technology. I got to witness modern-day hop harvesting and processing first hand in September 2015 when I spent a day in Washington’s Yakima Valley. I watched hops arrive at a processing facility, in trucks, still attached to the bines. The bines were fed into a machine, which then separated out the hops.

Hops arriving at a hop processing facility in Washington’s Yakima Valley
Hop bines are fed into a machine which separates the hops from the bines
Separated hops

For individuals looking to experience manual hop picking, there are modern-day opportunities to do so.  In Essex, northeast of London, it is possible to go hop picking for a day, thanks to an initiative (Company Drinks) started by artist Kathrin Böhm in 2014. Company Drinks is an:

“arts project and community drinks enterprise that links east London’s history of ‘going picking’ with a full drinks production cycle: from picking to bottling, branding to trading and reinvesting”.

The goal is to:

“combine local heritage (‘going picking’ and the area’s agricultural and industrial past) with local resources (spare fruit, growing spaces), local skills (recipe ideas, specialist and localised knowledge, drinks production) and a local economy.” 

During hop harvesting season,  individuals can go to local hop fields and pick hops by hand. The hops are then taken to Kernel Brewery in London, where they are used to brew somewhere in the region of nine thousand bottles of a one-off beer.

So there it is – the humble hop. As I drink a beer, particularly an India Pale Ale,  I never give much thought to the idea that the hop that plays such a critical part in its flavor and aroma has such a fascinating historical underpinning. But it does. And it is a history, of which I have barely scratched the surface here. There is, as my research demonstrated to me, quite a lot written about the history of the hop industry – particularly its economic and social history. It is a fascinating history, and one well worth delving into.

Further Reading:

Blair, Eric. 1931. Hop PickingNew Statesman & Nation, 17th October.

Currier, Susan Lord. 1898. Some aspects of Washington hop-field. Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine, Volume 32, Issue 192, pp. 541-544.

Harvey, David. 1963. Locational change in the Kentish hop industry and the analysis of land use patterns. Transactions and Papers (Institute of British Geographers), Volume 33, December, pp. 123-144.

Maugham, William Somerset. 1915. Of Human Bondage. New York: The Modern Library Publishers (read chapters CXVIII and CCIX).

Orwell, George. 1935. A Clergyman’s Daughter. London: Penguin Books. (read chapter 2).

Raibmon, Paige. 2006.The practice of everyday colonialism: Indigenous women at work in the hop fields and tourist industry of Puget Sound. Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas, Volume 3, Issue 3, pp. 23-56.