One of the first life changes I made after I began to spend a great deal of time in hospitals was giving myself permission to care about the small things. As a person who tends to get inside my own head, sometimes to a fault, the notion of, for example, finding joy in a beautiful sunset, has often seemed trite and beneath me, as though the only thoughts worthy of my contemplation are deep musings and speculations on the hows and whys of life, the universe, and everything.
This line of thinking is, of course hogwash. After all, even if one aims to ask the big questions, doing so is not in any way mutually exclusive with finding meaning in the little things. Indeed, on the contrary, it is often by exploration of such matters more easily grasped that we are able to make headway towards a more complete picture. And besides that, getting to enjoy the little things is quite nice.
With this background in mind, I have been thinking lately about the can design for the new round of Diet Coke flavors. So far I have only tried the twisted mango flavor. On the whole, I like it. I do not think it will supplant Coke Zero Vanilla as my default beverage option (the reasoning behind this being the default is far too elaborate to go into here). The twisted mango flavor is more novel, and hence is more appropriate on occasion than as a default option. I can imagine myself sipping it on vacation, or even at a party, but not on a random occasion when I happen to need a caffeinated beverage to dull a mild headache.
I do not, however, like the can that it comes in.
For some reason, the Coca-Cola company thought it necessary to mess with success, and change the shape of the can the new line of flavors come in. The volume is the same, but the shape is taller, with a shorter circumference, similar to the cans used by some beer and energy drink brands. I can only assume that this is the aesthetic that Coca-Cola was aiming for; that their intention is to obfuscate and confuse, by creating a can better able to camouflage among more hardcore party drinks.
If this is the reason for the redesign, I can understand, but cannot approve. Part of the reason that I have such strong feelings about various Coke products (or indeed, have feelings at all) is precisely because I cannot drink. Legally, I am not old enough in the United States (not that this has ever stopped my friends, or would stop me while traveling abroad), and moreover even if I was old enough, my medical condition and medications make alcohol extremely ill-advised.
Coke is a stand-in, in this regard. I can be fussy about my Coke products in the way that others fuss over beers. And because I have a drink over which I am seen to be fussing, it becomes common knowledge that I enjoy this very particular product. As a result, when it comes to that kind of person that is only satisfied when there is a (hard) drink in every hand, they can rest easy seeing that I have my preferred beverage, even if mine happens to be non-alcoholic. It is a subtle maneuver that satisfies everyone without anyone having to lose face or endure a complex explanation of my medical history. Coke undercuts this maneuver by making their product look more like beer. It sends the subtle subconscious message that the two are interchangeable, which in my case is untrue.
But this is hardly my primary complaint. After all, if my main problem was social camouflage, I could always, as my medical team have suggested, use camouflage, and simply during my beverage of choice out of some other container. It worked well enough for Zhukov, who naturally couldn’t be seen publicly drinking decadent western capitalism distilled in his capacity as leader of the Red Army, and so took to drinking a custom-ordered clear formulation of Coke in a bottle design to mimic those of the Soviet state vodka monopoly. It shouldn’t be my problem in the first place, but I could deal with mere cosmetic complaints.
No, what frustrates me about the can is its functionality. Or rather, its lack thereof. I’ve turned the problem over in my head, and from an engineering standpoint, I can’t fathom how the new design is anything but a step backwards. I assume that a megacorporation like Coca-Cola went through a design process at least as rigorous the one we employed in our Introduction to Engineering Design class. I would hope that they have spent at least as much time thinking about the flaws of the new design. In case they haven’t, here are my notes:
1) The can is too long for straws.
Some people prefer to drink out of a glass. For me, having to drink cold fluid in this way hurts my teeth. And if there is ice in the glass, I have to worry about accidentally swallowing the ice cubes, turning the whole experience into a struggle. Plus, then I have to deal with washing the empty glass afterwards. Drinking straight out of the can is better, but tipping a can back to take a sip makes one look like an uncivilized glutton who hasn’t been introduced to the technological marvel of the bendy straw. And conveniently, the opener on most cans can also be adjusted to secure a straw from bobbing up and down. Alas, the new can design is too long to comfortably accommodate a standard bendy straw.
2) The can doesn’t stand up as well
The fact that the can is taller, with a smaller base means that does not fit comfortably in most cup holders. Moreover, the smaller base area means that it is less stable standing upright. It does take up less space on the table, but that doesn’t matter when it falls over because I sneezed.
3) The shape makes for poor insulation
Alright, this part involves some math and physics, so bear with me. The speed at which a chilled cylindrical object, such as a soda can, will warm to room temperature is governed by the amount of surface area, because, the greater the surface area, the more direct contact with the surroundings, and the more conduction of heat. The can is taller, but the volume is the same, so the surface area must be greater to compensate. The conclusion is intuitively obvious if one remembers that a circle is the most efficient way to contain area on a 2D plane (and by extension, a sphere is most efficient for 3D, but we use cylinders and boxes for the sake of manufacturing and storage).
Consequently, the greater surface area of the can means that it comes in contact with more of the surrounding air. This increased contact results in increased conduction of heat from the air into the can, and proportionally faster warming. So my nice, refreshing, cold soda becomes room temperature and flat in a hurry. Sure, this means it also gets colder faster, and so perhaps it is a feature for that peculiar brand of soul that doesn’t keep soda refrigerated beforehand, but insists on waiting to chill it immediately before drinking out of the can, but I have no concern for such eccentrics.
I could go on, but I’m belaboring the point even now. The new can design is a step backwards. I just can’t help but feel like Coca-Cola tried to reinvent the wheel here, and decided to use Reulaux rotors instead of circles. Now, onto the important question: does it matter? Well, it clearly matters to Coca-Cola, seeing as they say fit to make the change. And, despite being objectively petty, it does matter to me, because it impacts my life, albeit in a relatively small way. Denying that I have strong feelings about this matter in favor of appearing to focus only on high minded ideals helps no one. And, as I learned in my time in the hospital, when the big picture looks bleak and can’t be changed, the small things start to matter a lot more.