Starbucks’ New Dress Code: Why Uniforms Don’t Make the Culture

This Week’s Focus: Starbucks' New Dress Code — Symbol or Solution?

Starbucks recently announced a new dress code requiring baristas to wear solid black tops and khaki, black, or blue denim bottoms beneath the iconic green apron. The company says the move will create a more consistent customer experience and simplify expectations for employees. However, the rollout has drawn criticism from workers and union representatives, who argue that dress code changes miss deeper operational and cultural challenges. In today’s article, we draw on Edgar Schein’s framework and academic research on organizational culture, to examine Starbucks’ new policy and explore the difference between surface-level changes and meaningful transformation.

As many of you may have already figured out, I have a love-hate relationship with Starbucks.

While I don’t dislike their coffee as much as one may assume from reading this newsletter, it’s definitely not my number one choice, and will usually opt for other alternatives if they are available.

But I love the firm because it gives me ample excuses to write about interesting topics.

And indeed…

In April, Starbucks announced a streamlined dress code for its baristas: effective May 12, all employees (“partners,” in Starbucks parlance) must wear solid black tops and khaki, black, or blue denim bottoms beneath the famous green apron.

The company’s official rationale is to let the green apron “shine” and create a consistent brand experience for customers across stores. By simplifying attire, Starbucks claims it will deliver a more consistent coffeehouse experience and give “simpler and clearer guidance to our partners,” allowing them to “focus on what matters most, crafting great beverages and fostering connections with customers.”

However, the rollout of this new uniform policy has been met with skepticism and even resistance. Employees and union representatives argue that changing shirt color won’t address the deeper issues in Starbucks’ operations or culture.

The Starbucks Workers United union went as far as to demand that no dress code changes occur at unionized stores until ongoing negotiations conclude, calling the new code a distraction from “the most pressing issues baristas have been raising for years.” In their view, Starbucks is “prioritizing a limiting dress code that won’t improve the company’s operations” and “spending money and time to force baristas into a specific cultural vision” instead of building an authentic, inclusive environment.

This clash raises a simple question: Do uniforms truly matter for cultivating meaningful organizational culture?

Before analyzing, it’s important to say that it’s easy to sneer at the change, and the importance of uniforms in general, but I won’t do that.

My students know I have my own uniform, which I wear in class—gray pants, an Oxford Clothes button-down blue shirt, a jacket (usually plaid, sometimes navy), and brown or black leather shoes. If I thought it merely a surface level detail, I wouldn’t bother. So when I see a firm dictating a new uniform, I pay attention. And you should too.

In today’s article we treat Starbucks’ new dress code as a case study to explore the difference between surface-level symbols and deeper cultural realities, as well as their operational implications.

So apron’s on…

Edgar Schein’s Three Levels of Organizational Culture

Edgar Schein, a prominent organizational psychologist, offers a foundational framework for understanding organizational culture. Schein’s model delineates three levels of culture:

Artifacts: the visible, tangible elements of culture—the company’s dress code, office layout, logos, rituals, and behaviors that an outsider can observe. These are easy to see but often hard to decipher in terms of what they really mean. The green apron and now-mandated black shirt are artifacts. They are the visible, tangible aspects of Starbucks’ culture. However, artifacts alone don’t provide insight into the deeper values and beliefs of the organization. In other words, seeing everyone in black shirts and green aprons doesn’t automatically tell us what values or assumptions Starbucks holds—nor will it automatically change those deeper elements.

Espoused Values: the stated beliefs, ideals, and norms that a company publicly promotes, which often appear in mission statements, core values lists, or official communications. Starbucks, for instance, espouses values like “Belonging” (creating a warm, inclusive environment), “Craft” (taking pride in quality), and “Joy” (bringing positivity to work) as part of its mission and values statements. Espoused values represent what an organization claims it values or aims for. However, these may not be consistently reflected in actual practice. It’s not uncommon to see gaps or even contradictions between a company’s espoused values and what employees experience day-to-day. Schein notes that espoused beliefs can be conflicting or divorced from reality if they are not backed up by deeper assumptions and behaviors. For example, Starbucks espouses inclusivity and “treating each other with dignity and care,” but if the new dress code makes some employees feel less seen or valued (e.g., by restricting personal or cultural expression), this could signal misalignment between the espoused value of “belonging” and the enacted policies.

Basic Underlying Assumptions: the deepest level of culture, consisting of unconscious, taken-for-granted beliefs and mental models that truly guide behavior. These are often unspoken “truths” in the organization—the way things are done or understood implicitly. Basic assumptions are hard to articulate because employees may not even be fully aware of them; they simply act on them. According to Schein, these fundamental assumptions are often unspoken and unconscious, guide employee behavior, and are difficult to change.

In Starbucks’ context, an example might be the deeply ingrained belief in providing a consistent customer experience or the notion of Starbucks as a “third place” (neither home nor work, but a welcoming communal space for mediocre coffee). Another basic assumption might be that appearance and ambiance matter for customer satisfaction—a belief that could be driving the leadership’s emphasis on a standardized look. These core assumptions develop over time as the organization learns what works: Schein explains that as a group solves problems and those solutions prove successful, the lessons become internalized assumptions. Once something is an underlying assumption, changing it is very challenging—it would require unlearning and relearning at a deep level.

Schein’s model highlights that the three levels must be understood in relation to each other. The visible artifacts are products of deeper values and assumptions; they reflect culture, but interpreting or changing culture can’t stop at the artifact level. Schein cautioned that “artifacts by themselves are insufficient to understand a specific culture.” To truly grasp why an organization does what it does (or to change what it does), one must dig into the espoused values and ultimately the basic assumptions that generate those artifacts.

In the case of Starbucks’ dress code, the uniform is an artifact—it symbolizes Starbucks’ brand identity and perhaps management’s desire for consistency.

But to ask whether this will transform Starbucks’ culture, we need to analyze how it connects (or not) to Starbucks’ values and assumptions.

Uniforms as Artifacts: Symbolic Change vs. Deeper Cultural Change

Uniforms in organizations are classic examples of symbolic changes or “surface-level” interventions.

They are visible to everyone—employees and customers alike—and signal a company’s image or priorities. By changing the dress code, Starbucks is clearly attempting a symbolic change: simplifying partner attire to reinforce the primacy of the green apron (Starbucks’ symbol) and to present a unified, familiar look to customers. In essence, the company is saying: “We want our stores to feel the same everywhere, and our partners’ appearance is part of that experience.” This is a cultural artifact management strategy, focusing on what Edgar Schein would call the artifact level of culture.

However, a key argument—supported by both theory and employee reactions—is that changing a symbol does not automatically change the substance of organizational culture.

Visible changes often fall under what scholars describe as symbolic management—actions that signal a commitment to certain values or changes, but which may not, by themselves, alter how work actually gets done or how people truly feel within the organization. In the academic literature on organizational change, there is frequently a distinction drawn between symbolic actions and substantive actions. Symbolic actions (like rebranding, altering slogans, or modifying dress codes) can be important for communicating intentions or refreshing an image, but substantive, functional changes (like new training programs, revised incentive systems, better staffing levels, or changed workflows) are what enable real shifts in behavior and outcomes.

At Starbucks, baristas and union leaders have essentially made the point that the new dress code is perceived as “focusing too much on what [employees] wear … and not enough on core operational issues.” One employee bluntly questioned how a shirt color could improve productivity: “How is the color of our shirts going to get drinks out faster?”

This question highlights a gap between symbol and function. Getting drinks out faster—a core operational goal tied to customer satisfaction—depends on functional factors like workflow efficiency, adequate staffing, well-designed equipment, and effective communication on the floor. The color of a barista’s shirt has no direct impact on any of those factors.

In Schein’s terms, unless the new uniform is accompanied by changes in underlying assumptions in the systems that support baristas (which, according to employees, is not), it’s unlikely to improve the company’s operations in any meaningful way.

To clarify the distinction, consider these examples of symbolic vs. functional changes in an organization:

Symbolic changes (artifacts-level): New uniforms or logos, updated mission statements, catchy slogans, rearranged office decor, instituting a company motto or pledge, celebratory events. These are visible signals meant to represent a desired culture or direction. For instance, a company might introduce casual Fridays to signal a fun, innovative culture—but that alone doesn’t make the culture fun or innovative if people are still afraid to speak up the rest of the week.

Functional enabling mechanisms (values/assumptions-level): Changes in policies or practices that shape daily behavior—altering hiring criteria to bring in people who fit a desired culture, adjusting staffing models to ensure no one is overworked, implementing open communication forums, providing training aligned with espoused values, or changing reward systems to reinforce certain behaviors. These kinds of changes address how work is done and how people interact, enabling the espoused values to be lived out. For Starbucks, this could mean ensuring adequate partner-to-customer ratios during peak hours (so baristas can “foster connections with customers”), or giving employees more voice in store decisions (valuing “inclusive, authentic” culture).

Schein’s model doesn’t use the terms “symbolic” and “functional” per se, but it does emphasize that artifacts (symbols) must align with deeper values and assumptions to have meaning, otherwise, employees notice the disconnect.

In fact, Schein described how leaders embed culture not just through visible symbols, but through what he calls primary embedding mechanisms: things leaders pay attention to, measure, and control regularly, the way they allocate resources, how they reward or discipline, etc. These are concrete actions that demonstrate what is truly valued. Secondary or reinforcing mechanisms include formal statements, ceremonies—and yes, even dress codes—which can reinforce culture only if they are consistent with the primary, deeper mechanisms. If there’s a contradiction, people will trust the “real” culture they experience over the slogans or uniforms.

In Starbucks’ case, if leadership truly wants to improve store culture and customer experience, primary mechanisms would involve tackling the well-known operational pain points: long wait times, high stress during rushes, and employee workload.

To Starbucks’ credit, there are elements of the new CEO’s “Back to Starbucks” plan that do address functional issues (such as simplifying the menu to ease barista burden and eliminating extra charges for non-dairy milk to align with inclusive practices). The dress code change, however, feels largely ceremonial to many employees—a change that “won’t improve the company’s operations” on its own.

It’s telling that Starbucks simultaneously had to reassure that they are also “continuing to test and learn to ensure we make the right investments in staffing and… processes… to improve the partner and customer experience,” as a spokesperson told Business Insider.

In other words, even Starbucks seems to implicitly acknowledge that uniforms alone aren’t a panacea; real investment in staffing and process is needed to achieve the cultural goal of better customer connections and partner experience.

Uniforms: Insights from Research

Academic research on organizational culture and identity shows that surface-level interventions often fail to penetrate to the core of culture.

One relevant stream of research examines organizational symbols such as uniforms and their relationship to organizational identity and culture. For example, several studies by Michael Pratt and Anat Rafaeli (whose work on behavior of workers in queueing have been admiring since my days as a student at the Technion) on organizational dress found that something as simple as clothing can carry multiple layers of meaning within a company, often reflecting different identities and statuses rather than a single unified culture. In their analysis, “a seemingly simple symbol such as organizational dress” actually “reveals the complex notion of social identity” in organizations.

Nurses in a hospital, for instance, all wear a uniform, but senior nurses, junior nurses, and administrators might each attach different significance to elements of that attire (authority, professionalism, approachability, etc.). The implication is that people interpret artifacts through the lens of existing values and assumptions. A new uniform might be embraced, ignored, or even resented, depending on whether it resonates with individuals’ sense of identity and the realities of their work.

This aligns with critiques in organizational culture literature that “surface-level” changes cannot manufacture culture in a vacuum. Culture is deeply rooted in shared history and daily practice. One cannot simply “declare” a new culture by changing external trappings. As one scholar quipped, it’s like “changing the decorations in a house without addressing the foundation.” If the foundation (basic assumptions) is weak or misaligned, the new décor won’t keep the house standing.

It’s also useful to differentiate between organizational identity (how the organization sees itself or wants to be seen) and internal culture (how it actually is to work there). Uniform changes often aim at the identity level—projecting a certain image to customers (for Starbucks, perhaps an image of cohesion and tradition symbolized by the green apron on black).

Identity is outward-facing and can be shaped by branding decisions. But internal culture is experienced by employees through interactions, norms, and unwritten rules. A company can successfully enforce a uniform identity (literally and figuratively) without necessarily having a healthy internal culture. For example, fast-food chains often have very standardized uniforms (strong identity consistency), yet the internal cultures vary from highly team-oriented and positive to very transactional or even toxic, depending on management practices. The uniform itself doesn’t cause those differences—leadership and local practices do.

Academic critiques of “quick fix” culture changes warn that focusing on surface manifestations (what one scholar called the “front stage” of organizational life) while neglecting the “back stage” processes is a recipe for disappointment or cynicism. A Harvard Business Review article on culture once noted that “cultural change is not achieved by mandate” —you can’t just tell people to adopt new values or slap on a new dress code and expect authentic change; instead, you must model and enable the change through policies and actions that people find credible and relevant to their work.

In essence, if Starbucks’ goal is to help baristas focus more on customers, a more direct path would be to remove obstacles that distract them (broken equipment, understaffing, complicated drink recipes during rush-hour, etc.), rather than to constrain what they wear. The latter is tangential at best.

Conclusion: Do Uniforms Really Matter for Culture?

Revisiting our initial question—do uniforms meaningfully shape organizational culture?— Starbucks makes it clear that while a dress code might standardize appearances, it hardly penetrates deeper cultural assumptions or genuinely influences employee behaviors and values.

Real culture emerges from consistent actions, authentic leadership, and operational support, not simply a coordinated wardrobe.

In short, Starbucks’ new dress code reinforces a timeless truth: culture isn’t skin-deep.

Changing what employees wear isn’t the same as changing what they believe or how they behave. The solid black shirts may unify appearance, but true unity and performance come from shared purpose, adequate support, and aligned values.

The iconic green apron may “shine” brighter against a black background, but ultimately, it's the everyday actions of Starbucks partners and leaders that determine whether the company’s culture truly shines.

To close the loop, you may wonder why I have my own uniform. My students know that I’m demanding, both regarding being in time and fully engaged at any point in time. I call students out if I think they’re not fully engaged. Understand that no one likes to be called out, but most people (and I mention “most” since this is clearly not true for all students) appreciate the elevated level of discussion when everyone is engaged. For me, wearing a uniform signals that I bring my A-game to every interaction. This doesn’t mean that professors without uniform bring less to their classroom, but it’s a reminder to myself and my students that this is who I am, and the choice is mine, not mandated by the school or the university.

What’s my underlying assumption? Learning is a social activity, where we all learn better when we study among people eager to learn. But this process can also unravel quickly if others are not engaged or not making an effort to learn. There are two equilibria: high effort by all, or low effort by all. Nothing else is sustainable. I hope that by the end of the semester, my students and I share these assumptions as “for-granted.” And my uniform (as well as my no-tardiness policy) symbolically and functionally reinforce these assumptions.

Now, given all that, I hope you’ll appreciate that I managed to write this entire article without mentioning—even once—just how mediocre the coffee really is. Well … I did mention it once. This is just a test of how careful a reader you are.