Marcel Winatschek

The Camera That Watched a Coffee Pot

Twenty years ago, a group of computer scientists at Cambridge pointed a camera at the coffee machine in their lab so they could check from their desks whether there was any coffee left before making the walk downstairs. That was the webcam’s first job: laziness in service of caffeine. The resulting image—grainy, three frames per second, completely mundane—was streamed across the early internet and watched by thousands of people, because humans will stare at anything if it’s live.

What followed from that coffee pot is basically the entire architecture of how we present ourselves online. Chatroulette, Skype calls, the Zoom fatigue of the pandemic years, OnlyFans, the specific dread of knowing a lens is pointed at your face—all of it traces back to a corridor in Cambridge in 1991. The webcam made distance feel temporarily irrelevant and then slowly made presence feel optional. It gave exhibitionists a global stage and voyeurs a legitimate excuse. It got people fired and it got people laid. Not bad for a piece of hardware built to monitor caffeine levels.

Happy birthday, little lens.