Siegwerk launches ink that also acts as oxygen barrier
Siegwerk has launched a new white printing ink that also provides an oxygen barrier – an innovation that aims to combine two layers into one.
The spork is an infamous utensil, envisioned as a spoon-and-fork hybrid but widely mocked for its impracticality. Should we write it off entirely, or can we learn some valuable lessons from its poor reception? We answer these questions and more in this edition of the Brief.
Introduction
This report looks at why the spork became a punchline, what its long history tells us, and why it still shows up in places that serve food at scale. It uses the spork as a simple way to explore a larger point about design choices, performance, and the cost of trying to do everything in one go.
Key Takeaways
• The idea of a hybrid utensil is centuries old, but modern sporks suffer from promising versatility and delivering weak performance in both scooping and piercing.
• Early designs had a clear purpose, especially for people who needed to eat with one hand, but later versions shifted toward mass convenience and cost cutting.
• Poor usability, especially in lightweight disposable formats, has cemented the spork’s reputation as a flawed tool.
• Despite criticism, sporks persist in schools, prisons, and foodservice because they are cheap and reduce inventory.
• Reusable metal versions have a niche among campers and travellers, but they still struggle with comfort, reach, and practicality.
• The spork’s failures highlight a wider lesson in product development: if performance slips, no amount of novelty or sustainability benefit will win people over.
Conclusion
The spork’s story shows how an idea that sounds clever on paper can fall apart when it meets real use. Its endurance comes from convenience and cost, not love or loyalty. As companies work toward more sustainable and user friendly solutions, the main message is clear: focus on performance first, then build everything else around it.
The spork is an infamous utensil, envisioned as a spoon-and-fork hybrid but widely mocked for its impracticality. Should we write it off entirely, or can we learn some valuable lessons from its poor reception? We answer these questions and more in this edition of the Brief.
After a busy day of work at this year’s Sustainable Packaging Summit, my colleague and I made a beeline for the nearest Spar in search of a late-night snack. On the way to scan our receipts at the exit gates, we stopped to retrieve our disposable cutlery – only to find ourselves laughing as we picked up wooden sporks.
What’s so funny about a utensil? Since both of us are the right age to have grown up online, perhaps it resonated as a suitably bizarre punchline for the quirky millennial humour that shaped our younger years (now mocked in its own right as a relic of simpler times). There must be an earlier precedent, though, as sporks have become a point of ridicule across the generational spectrum.
Aside from the silly portmenteau, what has turned this seemingly innocuous piece of tableware into the butt of the joke? Is its tarnished reputation justified, or are we overlooking the true potential of a hybrid eating tool? The answer, as it turns out, lies somewhere in the middle.
The when and why
If we look back in time, we can trace the spork’s surprisingly long ancestry. Examples like the sucket fork, dating back as early as the sixteenth century and designed for consuming sweetmeat, feature fork tines and a soup bowl on opposite sides of a single shaft; the Victorian terrapin fork is a closer relative, combining short tines with a concave shape. Evidently, the concept of a multi-purpose utensil isn’t new.
Yet the more recognizable combination of a spoon, fork and knife, first patented by Samuel W. Frances in 1874, is inclusive in its origins. According to Ken Albala, Tully Knoles Endowed Professor of History at the University of the Pacific, the tool was originally intended to help its users – specifically those with physical disabilities or mothers holding an infant – eat a meal with only one hand.
Subsequent developments shifted their focus to maintain functionality across different food types, from the ‘cutting spoon’ in 1908 to the serrated spoon in 1912. The ‘spork’ as we know it today – trademarked in the United States by the Van Brode Milling Company in 1970, followed five years later in the UK by Plastico Ltd. – takes a similar approach, combining fork tines with a bowl-like shape.
Here lies the main driver of the modern spork’s unpopularity: it promises efficiency but performs poorly. As Albala opines, it “precludes any effective use as either a spoon or a fork. Liquid spills through the diminutive tines before soup hits the lips, and the tines themselves are too blunt to easily puncture or convey to the mouth anything that might be considered solid food.”
He is particularly unimpressed by the lightweight, flimsy plastic sporks commonly served in foodservice operations. Tanner Bowden, staff writer at Gear Patrol, recalls from his own encounter with a spork from KFC that it was “neither adequate for harvesting the final remains of potato substance from the corners of its styrofoam container nor for piercing and gripping greasy chicken.”
Even those dedicated enough to the spork’s comedic potential to create the website Spork.org – another artefact of Web 1.0, recording its last update in September 1996 – admit that this “poor excuse” for a utensil “tries to function as both a spoon and a fork, and because of this dual nature, it fails miserably at both. You cannot have soup with a spork; it is far too shallow. You cannot eat meat with a spork; the prongs are too small.”
Granted, the spork has its supporters. A Medium author identified only as Tim defends it as an “unsung hero” among the lineup of modern tableware: “Its tines, though short, are sharp enough to spear soft foods, and its bowl shape is deep enough to scoop up liquids, small grains, or sauces. For meals like salads, pasta, and soups, where you need both stabbing and scooping functions, the spork really shines.”
Yet the sombre reality is that the spork’s reduced functionality has prompted its use in correctional facilities. Through the Prison Journalism Project, Daniel X. Cohen details how the then-named California Department of Corrections banned metal forks due to incidents of sharpening the utensil into a blade. As recently as April 2025, the British press reported that convicted murderer Hashem Abedi would receive his meals with a spork after attacking prison guards with “homemade weapons” made from baking trays.
In her book Consider the Fork: A History of How We Cook and Eat, Bee Wilson describes the sporks served to prisoners as “very ineffectual” – and so different is their functionality that Cohen has reportedly forgotten how to use a standalone fork over the course of his sentence.
“The spork is supposed to be superpowered cutlery, combining a spoon and a fork,” he says. “Instead, it seems to lose the best aspects of both utensils.”
Why does it persist, then, if its reviews are predominantly negative? Despite all the commentary, sporks still appear in locations where food is served en masse; schools, military bases, and as we’ve seen, supermarkets. Are there other factors ensuring their survival?
The how – and whether
Despite what its perceived impracticality may suggest, the spork comes with price benefits. Albala points out that most fast foods served in America don’t require cutlery at all, but if it meets consumer expectations, businesses can halve their costs by combining the fork and spoon into one utensil.
The spork could also be beneficial for consumers eating on-the-go, assuming it performed well. Much like Samuel W. Frances catered his earlier utensil to those with only one hand to eat, the spork would ideally be able to pierce, scoop, maybe even cut food in one, negating the need to sit at a table with two items of cutlery. Tim from Medium touches on this when he praises the spork as “ideal for travel and outdoor use”.
Perhaps the statement conjures up images of scattered litter and waste in landfill. It is unclear whether single-use sporks, as opposed to spoons and forks separately, lead to a significant reduction in plastic waste; but are wooden alternatives soiled with food residue and saliva any better?
Tim considers the alternatives. “With more recent environmental trends, we’ve seen a shift towards stainless steel, bamboo, or even compostable bioplastics,” he writes. “Stainless steel sporks have become popular on online marketplaces like Amazon, and some companies even offer titanium sporks for serious backpackers who need durable, ultralight gear.”
Writer and editor Aliza Abarbanel agrees with this approach. She tells Bon Appétit that the collapsible FinalSpork, made from stainless steel with a silicone container for transport, is a suitable alternative to single-use cutlery.
“The wide curve is perfect for cradling soft-serve or potato salad, the tines are sharp enough to capture stray cherry tomatoes or crisped chickpeas making a break for the grass,” she says. “In other words, it can handle just about any take-out situation that doesn’t require chopsticks or a steak knife.”
Like any reusable format, the FinalSpork (and solutions like it) rely on consumers remembering to bring it out of the house. Maybe its protective case can be left in a bag, but the spork itself must be removed to be cleaned; and if the consumer swaps between bags, they run the risk of forgetting or misplacing their cutlery. It’s a level of personal responsibility that consumers aren’t always willing to stick to, as we have explored at length.
Arguably, this isn’t so much of a problem in the camping community, where packing a bag is part of the routine. Reusable sporks seem to find their feet among consumers looking for lightweight and space-saving cutlery on their travels, and various articles commend metal sporks, in particular, for their durability in a bag full of heavy equipment.
Performance concerns persist, however. GearLab, a review site dedicated to outdoor equipment, compared multiple spork brands and identified recurring drawbacks: an uncomfortable grip and/or mouth feel, failure to reach the bottom of a deep pot or food bag, etc. The latter point could be navigated with shallower bowls, but one could make a strong case that utensils shouldn’t be hard to hold or eat with.
If tolerating anything less than luxury is out of the question, other options are available. Tanner Bowden praises Gerber’s Compleat tool, for example, in which an individual spatula, spoon and fork (described as “spork-reminiscent” but with longer tines) can be fixed together to create a pair of tongs. An additional component functions as a package, can, and bottle opener and a vegetable peeler, which theoretically covers every stage of meal preparation.
Some options go beyond a utensil and become an outright tool. Designs like NexTool’s stainless steel com2eat and the steel or titanium Eat’N Tool from CRKT feature a spork component alongside bottle openers and screwdriver blades – hooking onto rings of keys, D-rings, or clothing loops for portability.
With this in mind, are standalone sporks better in theory than in practice? Perhaps it depends on the consumer, and what an individual is willing to tolerate from their cutlery. It’s important that tableware fulfills its primary purpose, so if a spork can’t pierce a chunk of food or hold a liquid without leaking, it is an objective failure.
Equally, it is far from essential (or groundbreaking) in the twenty-first century. Accessibility-minded cutlery can now accommodate for mobility restrictions, implementing features like ergonomic grip and curved shapes. A parent, on the other hand, might simply secure their baby in a high chair, stroller, or crib while they sit down for a meal.
However unnecessary it might be, the spork is an important reminder that performance is non-negotiable; not just in utensil design, but packaging more broadly. Especially as regulations evolve and consumer preferences shift, we must make space for multiple considerations in the development phase – sustainability, efficiency, even novelty – but none of it will matter if the final result falls flat.
If we learn one thing from the spork’s enduring infamy, maybe it is this: innovation for innovation’s sake is not always beneficial. Just because we can, does that mean we actually should?
If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:
The ultimate guide to the Packaging and Packaging Waste Regulation in 2025
How are the top brands progressing on packaging sustainability?
Everything you need to know about global packaging sustainability regulation in 2025
The key to increasing the use of reusable packaging in supermarkets