meant selling not only in more places, but also in larger sizes. In all of the rush to expand volume, however, it never occurred to company executives to ask: Does the world really need that much Coke?
In the age of Big Gulps and supersizing, it’s almost inconceivable that until the 1950s Coke was sold only in 6½-ounce bottles. Even as the company was selling in more and more venues around the country, it was still seen as an occasional treat for after meals or on Sunday afternoons. The arms race with Pepsi changed that. After the upstart company’s “twice as much for a nickel” campaign, Coke was under constant pressure to offer bigger sizes, too. Finally, in 1955, it relented, rolling out 12-ounce “King Size” bottles. Almost at the same time, it released 26-ounce “Family Size” bottles, intended for home consumption with meals.
For decades, the price of sugar still kept a lid on how big Coke was able to go. That changed in the 1980s when Japanese scientists invented high-fructose corn syrup. Unlike sucrose—subject to the whims of international sugar markets—the new sweetener could be made here at home, where corn subsidies keep the prices at rock-bottom levels. “Cheap corn, transformed into high-fructose corn syrup,” wrote Michael Pollan in 2003, “is what allowed Coca-Cola to move from the svelte 8-ounce bottle of soda ubiquitous in the ’70s to the chubby 20-ounce bottle of today.” Coke rolled out a 50 percent high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS) version of its trademark beverage in 1980, delighted to discover that consumers couldn’t tell the difference. In 1985, it switched to a 100 percent HFCS version.
The rock-bottom price of syrup now allowed Coke to grow exponentially—especially in fountain sales. Fast-food execs had long known that the way to drive profits was not to offer bigger hamburgers but to offer bigger sizes of the high-margin items such as french fries and soft drinks that went with them. It wasn’t until the late 1980s, however, that the concept of “supersizing” really caught on. By then, fast-food companies realized that they could make more money by bundling a burger, fries, and a Coke into a “value meal” and selling it at a discount. They offered further discounts on larger and larger sizes of fries and sodas—both of which could be more easily increased in size, and with a greater profit margin, than could a hamburger or fish sandwich.
As Eric Schlosser describes in Fast Food Nation , in the 1990s a 21-ounce medium soda at McDonald’s sold for $1.29, while a 32-ounce large soda sold for only 20 cents more. But the cost for ingredients was only 3 cents more—for 17 cents of pure profit. Everyone won—the customer got exponentially more soda, the restaurant got more profit, and the company sold more syrup. And if that wasn’t enough, customers could request to “supersize” their drinks—a stomach-busting 64 ounces and 610 calories a pop. By 1996, supersizing accounted for a quarter of soft drink sales. (It was the same story at the 7-Eleven chain of convenience stores, which introduced the 32-ounce Big Gulp, the 44-ounce Super Gulp, the 52-ounce X-Treme Gulp, and finally the 64-ounce Double Gulp. The true champion, however, was “The Beast,” an 85-ounce refillable cup released by Arco service stations in 1998.)
With two-thirds of the fountain sales market, Coca-Cola was the clear beneficiary of the new drive to push volume. And as consumers became more and more accustomed to larger sizes of soft drinks at fast-food restaurants and convenience stores, the company quietly retooled vending machines and supermarket displays to increase package sizes as well. In some ways, it was the consumers’ fault. In the skittish days after New Coke, the company engaged in more and more consumer testing, all of which pointed in one direction: “Bigger is better,” according to Hank Cardello, Coke’s director of marketing in the early 1980s, who has since
In the age of Big Gulps and supersizing, it’s almost inconceivable that until the 1950s Coke was sold only in 6½-ounce bottles. Even as the company was selling in more and more venues around the country, it was still seen as an occasional treat for after meals or on Sunday afternoons. The arms race with Pepsi changed that. After the upstart company’s “twice as much for a nickel” campaign, Coke was under constant pressure to offer bigger sizes, too. Finally, in 1955, it relented, rolling out 12-ounce “King Size” bottles. Almost at the same time, it released 26-ounce “Family Size” bottles, intended for home consumption with meals.
For decades, the price of sugar still kept a lid on how big Coke was able to go. That changed in the 1980s when Japanese scientists invented high-fructose corn syrup. Unlike sucrose—subject to the whims of international sugar markets—the new sweetener could be made here at home, where corn subsidies keep the prices at rock-bottom levels. “Cheap corn, transformed into high-fructose corn syrup,” wrote Michael Pollan in 2003, “is what allowed Coca-Cola to move from the svelte 8-ounce bottle of soda ubiquitous in the ’70s to the chubby 20-ounce bottle of today.” Coke rolled out a 50 percent high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS) version of its trademark beverage in 1980, delighted to discover that consumers couldn’t tell the difference. In 1985, it switched to a 100 percent HFCS version.
The rock-bottom price of syrup now allowed Coke to grow exponentially—especially in fountain sales. Fast-food execs had long known that the way to drive profits was not to offer bigger hamburgers but to offer bigger sizes of the high-margin items such as french fries and soft drinks that went with them. It wasn’t until the late 1980s, however, that the concept of “supersizing” really caught on. By then, fast-food companies realized that they could make more money by bundling a burger, fries, and a Coke into a “value meal” and selling it at a discount. They offered further discounts on larger and larger sizes of fries and sodas—both of which could be more easily increased in size, and with a greater profit margin, than could a hamburger or fish sandwich.
As Eric Schlosser describes in Fast Food Nation , in the 1990s a 21-ounce medium soda at McDonald’s sold for $1.29, while a 32-ounce large soda sold for only 20 cents more. But the cost for ingredients was only 3 cents more—for 17 cents of pure profit. Everyone won—the customer got exponentially more soda, the restaurant got more profit, and the company sold more syrup. And if that wasn’t enough, customers could request to “supersize” their drinks—a stomach-busting 64 ounces and 610 calories a pop. By 1996, supersizing accounted for a quarter of soft drink sales. (It was the same story at the 7-Eleven chain of convenience stores, which introduced the 32-ounce Big Gulp, the 44-ounce Super Gulp, the 52-ounce X-Treme Gulp, and finally the 64-ounce Double Gulp. The true champion, however, was “The Beast,” an 85-ounce refillable cup released by Arco service stations in 1998.)
With two-thirds of the fountain sales market, Coca-Cola was the clear beneficiary of the new drive to push volume. And as consumers became more and more accustomed to larger sizes of soft drinks at fast-food restaurants and convenience stores, the company quietly retooled vending machines and supermarket displays to increase package sizes as well. In some ways, it was the consumers’ fault. In the skittish days after New Coke, the company engaged in more and more consumer testing, all of which pointed in one direction: “Bigger is better,” according to Hank Cardello, Coke’s director of marketing in the early 1980s, who has since
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