Whenever we imagine a coffeehouse, the picture that comes into our minds is still the same, even today. A small table, two cups of coffee, and attempts by people to slow down the pace of time through long conversations. When Dhaka is busy dealing with its restless souls, coffeehouses are handling the tired souls of the capital by offering them an interlude of warmth with their loved ones. A place where a group of friends laugh over something silly, a couple talk in low voices but make strong promises, and waiters move between tables like invisible threads.

Now, imagine the coffeehouse again, not in today’s Dhaka, but in 17th-century London.

Obviously, the setting would be quite different. Instead of soft, comfortable seating arrangements, you would find hard wooden benches, as comfort is sacrificed to prioritise conversation. Your hands would lose your smartphone but find newspapers and pamphlets. The air would be filled with the smell of coffee and tobacco. And you could hardly have finished a cup of coffee there without getting involved in heated debates on politics, trade, science, and even the future of the world that you are witnessing at present.

In those early years of capitalism, people could walk into these coffee spots and stay for hours, which cost them just a penny. The coin not only brought them a cup of coffee but also provided access to a cognitive journey. For providing such a rare opportunity, these spaces got a nickname – ‘Penny Universities’.

According to Brian Cowan, a historian of early modern Britain and Europe, London was first introduced to coffeehouses in the early 1650s. The first coffeehouse in London, referred to as “Pasqua Rosée’s Head” or "The Turk's Head”, was opened by Pasqua Rosée, who was a Greek servant to a Turkish merchant. Within a few decades, they spread rapidly across the city. As each one developed its own personality, there was a clear divide when it came to attracting customers. Some were for merchants, where every cup carried the weight of ships, risks, and distant horizons. On the other hand, some were for intellectuals, where every cup gave birth to an argument to reshape the world.

The open, loud, and constantly shifting conversations inside the cafés could not let a person stay alone, even if he came with no one. Someone would read aloud a topic from the newspaper, and a debate would begin. Everyone could challenge others’ views and defend their own. News was not just received then; it was argued, tested, and reshaped in real time. Some of the earliest forms of modern journalism and essay writing grew directly out of these coffeehouses. For example, Joseph Addison and Richard Steele, two founders of ‘The Spectator’, one of the oldest British political and cultural weeklies, regularly visited them and were closely connected with the culture. More importantly, ‘The Spectator’ was designed to be read in those spaces.

It was an era when there were not many universities, and most people were not fortunate enough to study in the few that existed. Therefore, they came into these ‘Penny Universities’, where knowledge flowed freely across tables. Later, philosopher Jürgen Habermas described these spaces as part of a growing ‘public sphere’, which helped ordinary people participate in relevant and rational discussions. In those places, people not only enriched themselves with knowledge but also gave birth to successful ideas. Lloyd’s of London is a prime example in this regard. The world’s leading insurance and reinsurance marketplace started its journey in Edward Lloyd’s coffee house, where merchants and sailors met to discuss the risks of the sea.

As every space carries both its light and its shadows, those ‘Penny Universities’ were no exception. Though they became engines of new thinking, their progress also carried exclusion, where intellect was welcomed, but equality was not. Gender bias kept women out of those fascinating cognitive journeys. Also, people from lower social strata were not welcomed there. The ‘Penny Universities’ were influential enough to attract attention from the highest levels of state power. King Charles II stood against those coffee spots and attempted to shut them down due to concerns about political unrest emerging from lively discussions. Though the ban did not last, it revealed something important: open and lively conversations have a strong influence on ruling power.

The tone has shifted in modern café culture. Though tables are still full and people stretch hours there, the purpose has become more personal than public. Surely, the moments people spend with their loved ones matter, even if they are lighter. Because they offer rest, connection, and a sense of belonging in a fast-moving urban life.

However, the contrast between old and modern café culture raises a valid question. As our conversations have become softer and more private, are we losing the opportunities to speak openly and question what is happening around us? Rather than focusing on changing café culture, we should ask ourselves whether we are willing enough to use these spaces for more than comfort – for curiosity, for disagreement, and for thought.

Deepra Prativa Das is a social media executive at the Digital Desk of The Daily Star. He can be reached at [email protected]

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