Brewing “kapwa” in a cup: The road to Philippine specialty coffee 

Conventional business wisdom tells us that competition is zero-sum, profits must be maximized at all costs, and efficiency trumps community. Yet in the highlands of Benguet and Bukidnon, a different kind of business story is brewing – one that suggests the path to success might lie in doing precisely the opposite.

Consider Kalsada Coffee, a social enterprise that has spent the past decade championing Philippine specialty coffee. When Country Director Tere Domine visits their partner communities, she doesn't stay in hotels – she lives with the farmers. In Benguet, she has a permanent room in Auntie Asthrine's house, where she's known as their "panganay na anak" (eldest child). She attends weddings, joins funerals, and shares in community celebrations. This might seem inefficient by traditional business metrics, but it's central to Kalsada's success.

The traditional coffee industry playbook is familiar: treat coffee as a commodity, squeeze farmers on prices, maximize middleman profits, and maintain opacity around pricing and quality. Tere encountered this firsthand early in her journey, meeting coffee farmers who hadn't been paid fairly and on time before. It's a story that exemplifies why farmers often distrust outsiders and resist quality improvements that require additional investment.

Kalsada's approach offers a powerful counter-narrative. Instead of annual contracts and arms-length transactions, they build relationships that span generations. Rather than hiding costs and margins, they practice radical transparency – hosting community meetings to set prices, showing farmers how their coffee is served in cafes, and sharing detailed business challenges and expenses. When considering mechanization, they don't just calculate ROI; they plan transitions that ensure workers maintain their livelihoods, encouraging them to plant their own coffee trees for future income.

This approach draws deeply from Filipino values. Consider kapwa – the recognition of shared identity and dignity. When Tere represents Kalsada to clients, she says, "I represent Auntie Asthrine ... I am not just by myself." This isn't mere sentiment; it transforms how business decisions are made. Quality control becomes community-driven, with farmers policing each other because they take pride in their collective reputation. Pricing discussions balance business sustainability with community needs because everyone understands the full picture.

The bayanihan spirit of communal unity shapes operations in practical ways. Seasonal work is rotated so everyone has opportunities both to earn wages and tend their own farms. When challenges arise – like the four-kilometer walk some workers faced to reach a site – solutions emerge through dialogue: transport assistance and rice incentives for consistent attendance. These might seem like unnecessary costs to a traditional business, but they've dramatically improved productivity and strengthened community bonds.

Perhaps most radically, Kalsada encourages farmers to sell to other buyers and experience different partners. In an industry obsessed with exclusive contracts, this might appear naive. Yet it demonstrates profound wisdom: when you treat farmers with dignity and operate with transparency, loyalty grows organically. Trust becomes your competitive advantage.

The results challenge conventional business assumptions. In ten years, Kalsada has grown from handling a ton to multiple tons of coffee, built international market presence, and sustained operations without external funding. More importantly, they've created lasting impact: farmers' children attending college, improved livelihoods, stronger communities, and growing pride in Philippine coffee.

But the greatest lesson might be this: business success and social good aren't opposing forces – they're synergistic. When we invest in dignity, trust, and community, we build foundations for sustainable growth. When we treat an industry as an ecosystem rather than a battlefield, we create conditions for collective flourishing.

As Tere observes from their farming community: "This isn't just one person's enterprise... There's always shared responsibility and commitment to it." In that simple statement lies the wisdom for reimagining business as a force for good. Perhaps the path to transforming capitalism runs not through new regulations or structures, but through rediscovering Filipino values of community, dignity, and shared prosperity.

The next time we sip a specialty coffee from the Philippines, remember in its complex flavors lies not just the richness of the land, but the wisdom of a business approach that dares to put people first. Indeed, the road to Philippine specialty coffee is to brew kapwa in a cup.