Bill
Coors credits the jumpstart of his environmental conscience
with the meeting of two individuals in the 1950s. Beatrice
Williard, who then ran the Thorne Ecological Institute in
Boulder, CO showed Bill three pictures she had taken in the
alpine tundra above the timberline. The first was of a discarded
Coors can stuck in the ground. The second was the depression
left in the ground after the can had been removed. The third
showed the same depression still visible ten years after the
first two pictures had been taken.
Secondly,
he met David Brower, the Sierra
Club’s first Executive Director, whom he had been
invited to debate. He agreed with most of what David had to
say and left the debate admiring the man greatly.
Surprisingly,
Bill Coors is saying things these days that sound more aligned
with the anti-corporate crowd than fellow industry executives.
For example, he claims outright that we shouldn’t be
using fossil fuels. In fact, in an attempt to ween his corporations
off the stuff, he had a biodegradable, starch based polymer
developed to replace the petroleum-based plastics they used,
but he claims that an industry conspiracy foiled the project.
Perhaps
his boldest assertion is that the corporate focus on the quarterly
return is “an ill in our system.” And that “If
I were the czar of American industry, you know the first thing
I would do? I would make stock options illegal.” He
dislikes the “myopic” view executives acquire
when they focus on these short-term returns (as quoted in
LOHAS Journal, V 2 N 1, Spring 2001).
Even though
Bill Coors built his own steel can factory for Coors Brewing,
he didn’t like using them for several reasons. For one
thing, the sight of beer cans along the Colorado roadside
disgusted him. What’s more, he was afraid that a lot
of other people disliked this litter too. And if that was
the case, the government might get involved and impose regulations.
The Coors family was nothing if not aggressively hostile to
outsiders, especially the government, telling them how to
run their business.
Additionally,
Bill Coors disliked the negative impact on the beer quality
of the soldered seems on the steel cans. And finally, beer
in steel cans was required to be pasteurized, and Bill dreamed
of the day that Coors could quit this practice and return
to the fresh “uncooked” taste on which they built
their empire.
Bill set
out on a mission to create a beverage can that could easily
be collected by the company and recycled, and that would not
impart the never flavors associated with the steel cans they
were using. Five years and $10 million dollars later, Bill
Coors' research and development bore fruit. In 1959, the Coors
Brewing Company rolled out their new aluminum can and recycling
program. No one thought that customers would bother to return
their cans for recycling, but Coors' penny per can collection
service worked.
Today,
the recycled and recyclable aluminum beverage can is commonplace,
and we owe it all to beer.
In fact,
recycling efforts continue to be dominated by the brewing
industry. Brewing behemoth, Anheuser-Busch,
is also the world's largest recycler of used aluminum beverage
containers. In 2003, they manufactured 1 billion aluminum
cans. That same year, they collected and recycled a little
more than 1 billion aluminum cans.
Bill Coors
retired in 2003, after spending years reinventing the company's
reputation for progressive issues. Coors is now unionized
and is ranked among the 50 best places to work - for everyone
- even gays and blacks. They also have a well developed workplace
'wellness' program. It's a shame that their once high brewing
quality standards have been hijacked by marketers and the
beers themselves have devolved into the very epitome of 'bland-and-fizzy.'