Timmys and Starbucks

Tim Hortons is a quintessentially Canadian institution, and, like the Great White North, packs a quiet but powerful punch. There was an episode of The Simpsons in which the family was at the mall, and every other store was a Starbucks; a sly commentary on the stranglehold the coffee titan had on the American psyche. This gag, of course, was an exaggeration.

Put that mall in any town in Canada. Change the Starbucks (Starbuckses?) to Tim Hortons (again, how to pluralize?) Show the clip to a Canadian audience. It will not be funny because there is no exaggeration to provide humour. That is because this is how Canada actually is. No matter where you are in Canada, you will always be within walking distance of a Tim Hortons. (Except in Whitehorse. Which is why the government has to pay people assloads of money to move there. That and the fact that Whitehorse is situated in an Arctic wasteland.)

I have resisted Tim Hortons since coming to Canada three years ago. The coffee isn't great, the baked goods are always half stale. I haven't been able to figure out why Starbucks hasn't been able to make any real impact here (Tim Hortons commands 62% of the national coffee house market, while Starbucks holds the number 2 spot at 7%) except that it must have something to do with national pride. Everything in Canada is American. Walk into any food court in any mall in Canada and you'll find that it's indistinguishable from an American one. We have the Gap, we have Quiznos, we have Diet Dr. Pepper. Even the Hudson's Bay Company is owned by an American conglomerate. But Tim Hortons is really, truly Canadian, and it alone has stood firm in the face of American cultural imperialism. It reminds Canadians that they are NOT defined by Americans, that they are a unique and distinct people and can hold their own on the North American continent. Tim Hortons is a yardstick by which Canadians only have to measure themselves.

The Starbucks clientele has enough disposable income to throw $4.50 at a grande double soy latte. Fancy beverages are like designer handbags: the little white cup with the green mermaid logo says the same thing as the pattern on a Coach top zip: "Look at me! I'm upper-middle-class! My children have a Playstation 3!" If you're young, this cup has the added benefit of letting everyone know that you spent your spring break in the Caribbean rather than somewhere within driving distance. You also don't have to worry about whether to take that unpaid internship that will greatly increase your appeal to future employers or toil away at the mall for minimum wage because you have to pay tuition and rent. Starbucks represents the American Dream at its most egalitarian: while you're savoring this luxury coffee drink, you're a have-all, it says. Even if you're a have-not when the cup is empty.

Tim Hortons has no such pretensions. Construction workers in soiled dungarees line up at the counter along with businessmen in suits to buy coffee and a doughnut for under two bucks. No fancy half-caf espresso with nonfat soy milk here. This is the land of cheap prescription dugs and free walk-in medical clinics. If you want fancy, order an Ice Cap (essentially a coffee and cream Slurpee, much akin to the frappuccino). The employees know that none of the customers care what they're listening to on their Ipods; they aren't inspiring artists or musicians anyway. They're serving coffee, not changing the world, and they're okay with that. They aren't pretending to be more important than they are. That's what Tim Hortons is all about. And that's what Canada is about, too.