Pumpkin spice: that familiar scent of cinnamon and nutmeg, instantly transporting you to cozy autumn days. But did you know this seemingly innocent flavor has a surprisingly controversial history? It's more than just a seasonal trend; it's a complex story of global trade, colonialism, and the very definition of American comfort.
My own introduction to pumpkin spice was far from the frenzy it is today. As a student in London, I eagerly awaited autumn. My American flatmate would prepare a Thanksgiving feast, filling the kitchen with that comforting blend of nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, and clove. The highlight? A slice of pumpkin pie – pure, spicy, sweet bliss.
Little did I know that this humble spice mix would explode into a national obsession. Americans now spend a staggering $500 million annually on pumpkin spice-flavored everything, and the industry is expected to more than double by 2035! It’s amazing how this flavor has taken over.
Culinary expert Jessica Gavin remembers a simpler time, saying, "I only remember [pumpkin spice] as the key flavor in pumpkin pie, and we'd make it once a year for Thanksgiving." The game-changer? The early 2000s, when the Pumpkin Spice Latte (PSL) burst onto the scene.
We can largely thank (or blame!) Starbucks. In 2003, they introduced the PSL, igniting a pre-Thanksgiving pumpkin spice craze and cementing the flavor combination as the epitome of autumn in America. The PSL became an instant cultural phenomenon.
But here's where it gets controversial... How did a spice blend become so intrinsically linked to US culture when the individual spices themselves – nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, and clove – are actually native to Asia?
The answer, unfortunately, lies in the dark and often brutal history of colonialism and the global spice trade.
To understand the true origins of pumpkin spice, we need to travel far beyond American shores to the islands where these coveted spices first grew.
While the Asian spice trade thrived peacefully for centuries, the arrival of European powers transformed it into a bloody and exploitative affair. In 1621, the Dutch, desperate to control the incredibly valuable nutmeg (which at the time only grew on Indonesia's Banda Islands), committed horrific acts of violence. They nearly exterminated the entire Bandanese population, enslaving the survivors and selling the spice for enormous profits in Europe. Similarly, in Sri Lanka (the home of cinnamon), the Portuguese, Dutch, and English forced locals to harvest and peel cinnamon under brutal conditions, resorting to flogging and torture for those who resisted. Cloves from Indonesia’s Ambon Islands were gathered under the same Dutch regime. Ginger, introduced to the Caribbean in the 17th century, was cultivated on plantations using enslaved labor by the English, Spanish, and French.
Meanwhile, across Europe, these spices became symbols of celebration and comfort. Food historian Dr. Ashley Rose Young explains that they were used to flavor meat and baked goods, like Christmas cake and figgy pudding. When North America was colonized by various European groups, these traditions were brought along. "That included making heavily spiced ginger cake and other heavily spiced dishes in the holidays."
As American cuisine evolved, those spiced holiday traditions persisted. Young notes that "Citizens started to develop their own cuisine to distinguish themselves from their colonial overlords, including recipes that used local squash like pumpkin."
In 1796, Amelia Simmons's American Cookery became the first cookbook to list nutmeg, ginger, and allspice as ingredients in "pompkin pie." Later, with the rise of convenience cooking in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, spice companies like McCormick began selling pre-made pumpkin spice blends.
By the late 1800s, North Americans embraced this spice combination as a celebration of their own heritage, particularly during Thanksgiving, which President Lincoln declared a national holiday in 1863. Professor Becky Beausaert points out that "Thanksgiving has always evoked a bit of nostalgia for the colonial period, especially the popular story of the first Thanksgiving being a collaborative effort between the Wampanoag people and English settlers, at which pumpkin was consumed. This event suggests a cooperative relationship existed between Indigenous people and settlers… obscuring the realities of settler colonialism."
But arguably, pumpkin spice's most successful "colonization" occurred in the 21st century... through a single, iconic drink.
While there are other claims to the PSL throne (singer Tori Amos, allegedly!), Starbucks is widely credited with popularizing it. Their intention was simple: to create the chain's first autumnal beverage. The formula was straightforward: espresso and steamed milk infused with pumpkin spice sauce (later, real pumpkin puree), topped with whipped cream and pumpkin pie spice.
Professor Helen Chun, a marketing expert, explains the PSL's appeal: "From a consumer psychology standpoint, pumpkin spice works because it tastes like a feeling... Starbucks tied it to warm emotional associations – cosiness, nostalgia, family gatherings – and then offered it only for a limited time, which builds anticipation and desire."
Matthew Philp, another marketing professor, adds, "They could have called it 'Pumpkin Pie Latte' or 'Thanksgiving Latte,' but something about 'Pumpkin Spice' suggests a sophistication and adds a stickiness point that people immediately understood, even though it was not really a term before Starbucks."
And there's a scientific reason, too! Jessica Gavin explains that compounds like cinnamaldehyde in cinnamon, gingerol in ginger, and eugenol in cloves activate TRPV1 receptors, creating a mild warming sensation that feels cozy and comforting. These spices are enhanced when added to fatty substances like cream or milk, "That's why pumpkin spice tastes especially rich and rounded in creamy desserts, pie fillings and lattes."
Since its debut in Washington DC and Vancouver in October 2003, Starbucks has moved its annual release date earlier and earlier. In 2025, launching on August 26th triggered a 27% surge in foot traffic to US Starbucks stores, despite the brand's ongoing struggles with customer boycotts and strikes.
And this is the part most people miss... Not everyone is a pumpkin spice fan. The late Anthony Bourdain famously wished to see it "drowned in its own blood," and some dismiss the devotion to the PSL as "basic."
Philp explains that "Social media adopted it before the term 'being basic' became a bad thing... At that time, it was okay to post photos of our lattes with our cosy socks in the background without people cringing. When PSLs were taking off so was 'basic' culture of posting pictures of your food in a faux-candid picture."
In 2015, the #decolonizepumpkinspice movement emerged, linking the drink to colonialism and privilege and calling for awareness of the spice trade's devastating impacts. The movement gained traction online and continues to resonate.
But has this changed consumer behavior? Cookbook author Maya Kaimal states, "People should be aware of the costs of the spice trade... But at the end of the day, that's ancient history."
Regardless, 22 years after its launch, the PSL appears on the seasonal menus of countless chains, from McDonald's to Dunkin' to independent coffee shops. Every year around September, a cornucopia of pumpkin spice-flavored products floods stores in the US and Canada, from The Laughing Cow's spreadable cheese to Trader Joe's hummus and Chardonnay, even Target's trash bags!
Suzy Badaracco, a food industry trend analyst, finds the pervasiveness of pumpkin spice unsurprising and even fitting. "The truth is pumpkin spice became part of the flavor landscape... That pumpkin spice kitty litter? It's not absurd, it's a sign of how emotionally anchored it's become."
She adds: "[Pumpkin spice] isn't just surviving the 'too much' jokes, she's thriving because she's part of who we are."
No surprise, then, that the global pumpkin spice market is growing. Japanese giant Muji now sells an instant PSL, and Indian chocolatier Paul and Mike offer pumpkin spice chocolate. However, much of the world still views it as a uniquely American phenomenon.
Philp notes that "That pumpkin spice flavor is the flavor you get in a pumpkin pie, which is uniquely North American and primarily served at American Thanksgiving... Pumpkin spice reminds people of the fall and possibly the strong memories of when they were younger stuffing their faces with tasty pie."
Badaracco adds that "[pumpkin is] deeply rooted in Native American cuisine, which gives it cultural and historical gravity that newer flavors can't easily replicate."
Ultimately, pumpkin spice is more than just pumpkin. Gavin says that "The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg instantly brings back feelings of warmth and togetherness... Which is why that first latte of the season feels like a cosy ritual."
Badaracco concludes, "That's what Western comfort culture often does... It takes global or heritage ingredients and repackages them into something emotionally accessible. It reveals how Americans metabolise uncertainty: through warmth, ritual and repetition. That's why it endures."
So, what do you think? Is pumpkin spice a harmless indulgence, a symbol of cultural appropriation, or something in between? Does its historical context change your enjoyment of the flavor? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
