The Hidden Labor of Coffee: A Call for Change
- Claudia Lovo

- Apr 30
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 3
Claudia Lovo, a Nicaraguan coffee producer, boldly challenges the exploitative systems in coffee harvesting, demanding dignity, fairness, and real change for workers.
The original text was published by Claudia Lovo, a coffee producer and taster from Nicaragua, on her LinkedIn page (title and lead from the editor). By publishing it on our blog, we want to give her voice greater visibility. And behind her, we stand with coffee industry workers who want better living conditions and the fulfillment of their needs. I invite you to read and reflect, Krzysztof Blinkiewicz, editor-in-chief of Red Ink Coffee.
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It took me a while to write this, but here it is.
A reflection born from experience, questions, and the tension of being close to a system I care about—and that challenges me every day.
“Picking Coffee Is Not Freedom”
A reflection on class, power, and invisible labor in specialty coffee
Behind the beauty of coffee farms and the aroma of freshly processed beans, there’s another story: that of those doing the hardest work.
This reflection is personal. I don’t speak for others, but I write from what I see daily—with care and the hope of opening space for dialogue.
What would happen if the people who pick coffee could truly choose?
What voices are missing from the specialty coffee narrative?
Harvest: Between movement and silence
Harvest is the most intense time on a farm. Hundreds—sometimes thousands—of people work in conditions that are exhausting, repetitive, and undervalued.
This work is mostly done by those in the lowest socioeconomic class—people with limited access to education, land, or healthcare. Not because they lack ambition, but because the system leaves few alternatives.
Picking coffee is not a free choice
Ideally, work would be chosen based on passion or purpose. But here, picking coffee is rarely a choice—it’s survival.
It’s repetitive, physical work—but deeply human. Some tasks sustain life, and that alone deserves dignity.
The issue isn’t the work. It’s that it’s reserved for those with no other options.
What if they could choose?
With access to land, education, and stability, most would likely choose something else—or do this work differently: with dignity, recognition, autonomy.
Coffee wouldn’t disappear. What would is the exclusion-based model that supports it.
Who benefits?
This is the hard part.
Those with capital—local and global—benefit most. So do consumers in the Global North, who may prefer “fair prices” to confronting the roots of inequality.
It’s easier to praise impact when we don’t ask:
• Who defines fairness?
• Who’s missing from the story?
• Who are we really helping?
The white savior comfort zone
Helping without giving up power is part of the white savior dynamic. Paying more may ease guilt, but without listening and redistribution, it doesn’t change much.
Real change starts at the base
We must go beyond storytelling and polished narratives. Specialty coffee still runs on unequal structures.
Change won’t come from awards or labels, but when those at the base help write the rules.
Thank you for reading
This isn’t a universal truth—just a reflection from origin, working alongside pickers and producers.
Specialty coffee can’t build its future on silence.
What would happen if they could decide?








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