by Eddie Pipkin

Did you see Starbucks in the news in recent weeks for adding an additional mandate to the responsibilities of employees?  Beginning in January, according to an edict from CEO Brian Niccol, all baristas were required to add a handwritten comment to each beverage.  A note of affirmation, a tasteful funny observation, or just a smiley face or “have a nice day.”  He was hoping to foster emotional bonds between customers and servers.  What he got was a snarky revolt.  It was an unambiguous reminder that compulsory feelings never work out, not at any job, and definitely not in ministry settings.

Coerced emotions reek of inauthenticity.  Such exchanges quickly veer to awkwardness.  In some instances, they can feel downright threatening (like if you don’t fake an expected feeling, you’re not part of the “in crowd.”)  Inevitably, the extortion of insincere emotions leads to the opposite of what was intended, engendering seething resentment instead of joy, producing a sense of manipulation rather than engagement.

Authenticity is the gold standard of the Gospels.  What stands out when reading about the ministry of Jesus and the disciples is the level of sincerity with which they engaged one another and all they taught and served.  This was perhaps the key contrast with the calcified religious leadership of the day.  Rules and requirements had replaced true worship.  Jesus’s approach involved true listening and a response that brought people closer to God and one another rather than the performative act of checking off religiosity boxes.

Sincerity fosters relationships.  It doesn’t mean that every emotion we experience in our work together is positive.  It doesn’t mean our journeys are all rainbows and unicorns.  It means that we are free to be honest in our struggles and frustrations, that we celebrate the joys in life and share the burdens together without having to put up a false front.  If we encourage people to pretend to be other than they are as part of our instructions for leading teams, guiding small groups, navigating difficult relationships, and interacting with the people with whom we are engaged in ministry, we are clearly communicating a core value that appearances matter more than real life.

People buy coffee at Starbucks because they value a quality product delivered with excellent service in a pleasant environment, not because they are looking for a life coach with their mocha Frappuccino.  They want baristas to be friendly, efficient, and attentive, not a therapist, counselor, or personal motivational speaker.

The world’s biggest coffee chain (38,000 stores and counting) has struggled to keep its competitive edge in recent years, and since Niccol, as the new CEO, would want to make some flashy proclamations to shake things up, he decided to give his employees what seemed like a quick solution for leveraging the quirky and adorable special customer shout-outs for which they were known.  Baristas had always written names on cups, and occasionally you might be delighted to find an additional, special message scrawled on your latte container.  Why not dictate that baristas do that for every customer every time?

Because you sabotage what was wonderful and unscripted and authentic.  Now it’s a chore.  Now it’s a grind.  You suck the joy right out of it.  You can read the whole article at Bloomberg here, and it’s worth following the link just to see some of the hysterical protest messages that baristas have been writing on customer cups to show their displeasure.  The forced joy mandate clearly is an otiose effort for both employees and customers:

[M]andated engagement doesn’t particularly work well. . . . The most fun Starbucks customers and employees actually seem to be having is poking fun at the policy on TikTok. On Reddit, a customer posted that she hates the new policy because “these messages have less meaning” now that they’re required. “It felt special before and now it doesn’t,” read one of the 143 comments in the replies. “Having customers WATCH us be extremely backed up and still having to write something on a cup is so embarrassing,” read another.

The online critics might be onto something. Happy and engaged employees are good for business. But so is creating an environment where workers can effectively do their jobs — and find their own sources of workplace joy. Companies might find if they invest in the latter, the former will organically follow, no faking it required.

The article gives several recent examples of attempts to force corporate joy by large companies.  It does not work, but people keep trying it, and we’ll probably keep seeing it, because in a world where AI is increasingly likely to be capable of doing the tasks of your job, an algorithm still can’t authentically emulate human joy in corporate and personal interactions.

Local churches deal with the issue of expected performative emotions on a number of levels.  There are the expectations we have of staff to open themselves at all times to interactions with people:

  • What if instead of expecting every staff person or ministry leader to serve as a counselor to process the complex needs of every congregant, we instead learned to say “You know what, it sounds like you are going through a lot right now, and I’m not the right person for helping you process that, but I am going to get you to a person who is gifted for guiding you through this struggle.”

We expect staff, leaders, and volunteers to be filled with obvious joy and enthusiasm at all times (and, granted, we all have to grin and bear it from time to time – we don’t want to be a herd of Eeyores, especially if we have a job in hospitality or ministry recruitment), but people who are over-the-top in expressing their enthusiasm, especially if they are clearly not feeling it on a particular Sunday, can be a turn-off:

  • What if instead of pitching hyper-enthusiasm at all times, we acknowledged that there are quieter and more subtle ways to welcome and engage people?  Hospitality is not one-size-fits-all.

We definitely should not be encouraging unsolicited physical engagement as a sign of welcome:

  • Instead of “everybody gets a hug when they come in the door” (ewwwww), what if we trained people in knowing when a hug or a handshake are appropriate and how to listen attentively by maintaining eye contact, etc.?

We should not be “bullying” people in worship and small group sessions to express themselves in ways that they are not feeling:

  • Instead of insisting that everyone share a deep, troubling secret in a small group sharing time, what if we were consistently clear that sharing is great but not sharing is fine, too, if that’s where people are at currently?  What if we gave people the freedom to be who they are and how they are in worship, expressive or quiet?

Thinking about your own relationships and ministry, have you mandated the practice of performative joy or enthusiasm?  Have you subtly (or overtly) communicated an expectation that people will be all smiles or express unqualified enthusiasm for a project or process?  What is the line between “putting a smile on one’s face” or feigning enthusiasm for a dreaded conversation versus sliding into fakery that is obvious and turns people off?  How do we make sure that we consistently stay on the right side of that line?

I haven’t done this in a while, but there’s a $10 Starbucks gift card for the first person who responds in the comments section with any thoughts on this blog.  The only caveat is that you have to send me a picture of what the barista writes on your cup!