Paying for a daily coffee habit is a go-to spend shaming exercise for many a mainstream personal financier. But during the COVID-19 pandemic, I’ve viewed this budgeting item in a different light. In fact, buying coffee is my new charitable cause.

Why buying coffee is my new charitable cause

Local restaurants are among the businesses hit hardest by the pandemic. Since work-from-home began, my coffee habit has become a way to give back to my local coffee shop. Could I save money by making my own, somewhat shittier coffee at home? Sure, if I absolutely needed to. But there’s a sense of civic duty that comes in paying three bucks for a coffee several times a week. I can both get good coffee and help support a local staple in my neighborhood at the same time. 

Now, I probably wouldn’t feel as noble in my coffee pursuits if my local shop happened to be a Starbucks. But if that’s the case for you, well, I suppose they’ve been hurt too during this pandemic. That said, if you can walk an extra block or six and find a local coffee joint to support, all the better.

How much am I donating to the Coffee Fund?

I track all my expenses on Mint, so I can easily go back and check just how much I’ve splurged on coffee over the last six months. Since the pandemic, I’ve spent $388.78 on coffee, compared to $209.99 in the previous six-month period. That amounts to about $2.13 a day, whereas the previous six month period came in at $1.15 per day. These aren’t enormous sums of money, but as we all know, these small purchases tend to add up to much larger amounts. In this case, it’s an expense I’m more than happy to incur. Businesses are hurting and I find myself needing an extra jolt in the afternoon to stay motivated while working from home. It’s a win win for both parties.

Beyond coffee, the same sense of charitable giving can be found by supporting any of your local restaurants. I feel like a hero every time I order takeout from a local establishment, which works out fabulously for someone whose most egregious expense each month revolves around food and dining.  

You could argue that I’m just putting lipstick on the pig that is my most out-of-control budget item. Fair enough. But I’ve been fortunate to be in a position to increase my savings amidst the uncertainty of the last several months—most notably by reducing expenses in the aforementioned food and dining category. I’m buying more groceries, cooking more at home, and have completely wiped out the standard weekend bar tabs I incurred pre-shutdown. There’s plenty of room in the current budget to indulge on a coffee a few times a week, and to feel good about doing it.

How about just giving money to actual charitable causes?

Is this just a way for my cheap ass to avoid contributing actual dollar amounts to worthy charitable causes, you ask? Well, kind of, yeah. Charitable spending is an area I need to improve in now that I’m making a living wage as an adult human. Some of my leaner earning years in recent memory have held me back from donating money consistently.

I justify my thrift by telling myself that if I instead invest my money and let it grow for a few years, I’ll be able to make a much bigger impact in the future. The problem with this is that the act of charitable giving is a lot like saving/investing, or consistently working out. It is more about forming the habit than it is about how much you can or cannot give at that particular period in your life.

So, yes, direct contributions are still a work in progress for me. Instead, I’m shifting my focus toward local businesses and spending a little more than I’d typically feel is reasonable. And it all falls under the budgeting guise of a charitable contribution. Supporting local businesses in general, and resisting the urge to Amazon everything, is likewise about forming a habit.

Support your neighborhood establishments

Is there a restaurant in your neighborhood that you want to make sure survives these difficult times? Place a takeout order or purchase a gift card. How about an old book shop you like frequent? Place an order for a book or gift card on their website. For those in the credit card rewards game, think of it is a form of manufactured spend: buying something you’ll eventually use in order to secure a big sign-up bonus. But instead of a sign-up bonus, you’re securing a local business’s place in your community.

None of this is exactly new advice, especially as it relates to the pandemic. But it’s worth a reminder. And it’s always nice to have a stranger on the internet telling you that you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for splurging on a $5 latte.

I’m intent on continuing this habit of conscientious spending long after the pandemic subsides and life eventually returns to some form of pre-COVID normality. No amount of logical personal finance advice is going to stand in the way of my newfound zest for charitable coffee purchases.