So let’s go down the list of the individual tools and substances used to make a can of Coca-Cola, and their places of origin:
Bauxite from a mine in the 4,000-person town of Pinjarra in Western Australia.
Molten cryolite from Greenland.
Bars of pure aluminum shipped from the port of Bunbury, Australia, to Long Beach, California and shaped into cans in a rolling mill in Downey, California.
Corn grown in any number of places, milled and processed in sophisticated ways to produce high-fructose corn syrup.
Vanilla from a Mexican orchid.
Cinnamon from a Sri Lankan tree.
Coca-leaf from South America, processed in a unique factory in New Jersey to remove the cocaine.
Kola nut from a tree in the African Rain Forest.
Processed in Atlanta.
Says the source of all this information (check it out–it’s worth the read):
The number of individuals who know how to make a can of Coke is zero. The number of individual nations that could produce a can of Coke is zero. This famously American product is not American at all. Invention and creation is something we are all in together. Modern tool chains are so long and complex that they bind us into one people and one planet. They are not only chains of tools, they are also chains of minds: local and foreign, ancient and modern, living and dead — the result of disparate invention and intelligence distributed over time and space. Coca-Cola did not teach the world to sing, no matter what its commercials suggest, yet every can of Coke contains humanity’s choir.
You go, civilization!
(Hat-tip to the fascinating NextDraft newsletter.)