Matcha is booming globally, but Western commercialization is blurring cultural lines, raising questions about authenticity and sustainability. Unsplash+
Walk into any New York City or Los Angeles cafe, and you’re bound to see matcha lattes on nearly every menu. Today, matcha is a multi-billion-dollar category, valued at roughly $3.8 billion and projected to surpass between $6 and $7 billion by 2030. The Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries reported that the 2024 tencha output, the leaf used to produce matcha, was more than 2.5 times greater than it was ten years prior. Yet despite its popularity, much of the Western market has strayed from the Japanese tea culture it claims to celebrate, leaning instead into commercialization, pastel aesthetics and trend-driven marketing that obscure the drink’s origins. This pivot away from cultural roots raises bigger questions about authenticity, consumer trust and the sustainability of global supply chains, forcing brands across the beverage and wellness industries to confront where cultural appreciation ends and cultural appropriation begins.
The problem with “ceremonial” vs. culinary
The majority of the Western matcha branding is built on surface-level and shallow narratives—phrases like “Zen rituals” or “ancient traditions” that often gloss over the history and cultural meaning. Even common labels that consumers might think hold weight—like “ceremonial grade” and “culinary grade”—are actually marketing inventions. In Japan, there is only one form of matcha, traditionally used in tea ceremonies, such as chadō. The ceremony is meant to be a meditative ritual emphasizing harmony, respect and mindfulness. As the tea ages, it is repurposed for cooking, not because of a quality hierarchy but as part of a cultural practice rooted in stewardship. Western labeling systems create the illusion of quality tiers when, in reality, they reflect a lack of authenticity.
Demand, supply chains and distortion
Beyond surface-level marketing, the surging global demand for matcha has reshaped supply chains—with both benefits and drawbacks. Demand has nearly tripled since 2010, with Japanese production rising from about 1,400 tons to more than 4,000 tons in 2023. On one hand, international attention has given Japanese tea farmers access to new opportunities for differentiated revenue streams. On the other hand, supply shortages and inflationary pressures mean that local consumers are paying higher prices for a product that’s deeply tied to their daily rituals and cultural heritage. Today, ceremonial-grade matcha can now sell for $30 to $100 per ounce as demand far outpaces supply.
Compounding the issue, other countries—most notably China and Vietnam—have entered the market with low-cost green tea powders labeled as matcha. These substitutes dilute the category’s integrity and confuse consumers, while Western brands sourcing from bulk suppliers risk misleading their customers and undermining small family-run farms in Japan that continue to uphold centuries-old practices and traditions. Without long-term brand partnerships and reinvestment, these farms, which are already challenged by an aging workforceface the risk of disappearing altogether.
Authenticity as a business imperative
This isn’t just a cultural issue—it’s a business issue. Today’s consumers are more discerning than ever. They demand transparency not only in ingredients and efficacy, but also in sourcing and values-based purchasing. Driven by surging demand, Japan’s green tea exports, including matcha, rose 25 percent to $252 million in 2024while the volume of exports grew by 16 percent, according to Japan’s Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries. Market research firm NIQ reported that U.S. retail sales of matcha alone jumped 86 percent from three years ago—evidence of just how rapidly the category is scaling. Yet growth will not guarantee endurance. Brands that reduce tradition to an accessory or buzzy positioning may enjoy temporary popularity, but they risk losing long-term credibility in a market that increasingly rewards authenticity. This desire for transparency and respect for heritage is what led me to create wellness brand Apothekary.
The line between appropriation and appreciation
Too many brands have been blurring the line between appreciation and appropriation. But the difference is clear: appropriation extracts while appreciation amplifies. True appreciation requires a commitment to education, investment and reciprocity, whether that means sourcing directly from Japanese farmers, reinvesting in their communities or accurately contextualizing traditions rather than bending them for Western convenience. As the wellness industry matures, authenticity and cultural respect will evolve into powerful competitive advantages. Brands that prioritize building trust through respect for craft, culture and supply chain integrity will endure. Those that don’t could very likely end up on the wrong side of consumers’ scrutiny down the line.
Matcha’s rising global popularity could ultimately serve as a powerful bridge between cultures, connecting traditions across continents. Authenticity is not just about heritage. It’s the key to the market’s future. Unless brands begin treating matcha as more than a trendy green powder for lattes and stunt marketing campaigns, the category could end up collapsing under the weight of its own hype.
