Dr Pepper
Based on Wikipedia: Dr Pepper
The Drink That Defies Classification
Here's something that will settle a bar bet: Dr Pepper is not a cola. It's also not a root beer. And despite what your taste buds might tell you, it contains absolutely no prune juice.
The United States Food and Drug Administration has officially determined that Dr Pepper belongs to its own category entirely—something beverage historians have taken to calling "pepper soda," named after the drink itself. It's a bit like asking what flavor blue raspberry is. The answer is: it tastes like blue raspberry. Dr Pepper tastes like Dr Pepper.
As of 2024, this uncategorizable beverage has climbed to become the second best-selling carbonated soft drink in America. That's not second place among "pepper sodas" or some obscure subcategory. That's second place, period—trailing only behind the combined might of Coca-Cola. For a drink that doesn't fit neatly into any category, that's a remarkable achievement.
Born in a Texas Drugstore
The year was 1885. In Waco, Texas, a Brooklyn-born pharmacist named Charles Alderton was working at Morrison's Old Corner Drug Store. Pharmacists in those days weren't just people who counted pills—they were essentially chemists who mixed custom remedies and, increasingly, sweet carbonated drinks at their store's soda fountains.
Alderton noticed that customers seemed enchanted by the smell of the drugstore itself—that intoxicating blend of fruit syrups and spices wafting from the fountain area. So he set out to create a drink that captured that aroma in liquid form.
His first guinea pig was the store's owner, Wade Morrison. Morrison liked it. Then Alderton started slipping samples to regular customers at the soda fountain. They liked it too. Pretty soon, people were walking into Morrison's store and ordering "a Waco."
What happened next was unusually generous for the cutthroat beverage industry: Alderton simply handed the formula over to Morrison. He had no interest in the soft drink business. He was a pharmacist, and that's what he wanted to remain. Morrison, recognizing what he had, named the drink and began marketing it.
One year before Coca-Cola would debut in Atlanta, Dr Pepper was already being sold in Texas. That makes it older than Coke—a fact that surprises many people who assume Coca-Cola was the original American soft drink.
The Mystery of the Missing Period
Sharp-eyed readers may have noticed something: there's no period after "Dr" in Dr Pepper. This wasn't always the case.
The original name was "Dr. Pepper" with a full stop, like you'd write when abbreviating "Doctor." This punctuation appeared inconsistently in logos throughout the early decades. Then, sometime in the 1950s, the company made it official: the period was gone for good.
The stated reasons were stylistic and about legibility. On bottles and signs, that tiny dot sometimes looked like a smudge or got lost entirely. But there's something almost philosophical about the change. Without the period, "Dr" stops being an abbreviation and becomes part of the brand name itself. It's not "Doctor Pepper" shortened—it's just Dr Pepper, a proper noun that happens to start with two consonant letters.
Who Was the Real Doctor Pepper?
The name's origin has spawned theories for over a century. The most popular explanation points to a real physician: Charles T. Pepper of Rural Retreat, Virginia.
The story goes that Wade Morrison once worked for Dr. Pepper and named the drink in his honor—either out of gratitude for giving him his first job, or because Dr. Pepper allowed Morrison to marry his daughter.
There's just one problem. Multiple problems, actually.
Milly Walker, who served as Collections Manager and Curator for the Dublin, Texas Dr Pepper Bottling Company Museum, has investigated these claims thoroughly. Census records show that young Morrison lived in Christiansburg, Virginia—about forty miles from Rural Retreat. That's not impossibly far, but Walker found no evidence Morrison ever worked for the doctor.
The marriage theory falls apart even more spectacularly. Dr. Pepper's daughter was eight years old when Morrison moved to Waco. Even by the standards of the 1880s, this doesn't add up.
A more mundane explanation exists: at the time, putting "Dr." in a product name was simply good marketing. It conveyed healthfulness and scientific credibility. Early Dr Pepper advertisements leaned into this, promising the drink would "aid digestion and restore vim, vigor, and vitality." Whether there was any actual doctor involved may be beside the point.
The Prune Juice Conspiracy
Since the 1930s, a persistent rumor has circulated that Dr Pepper's secret formula includes prune juice. The company has officially denied this countless times. Their FAQ states plainly: "Dr Pepper is a unique blend of natural and artificial flavors; it does not contain prune juice."
So where did this rumor come from?
One theory suggests a competing soft drink deliveryman started it, hoping to cast aspersions on Dr Pepper by associating it with prune juice's well-known laxative effects. It's a delightfully petty piece of alleged corporate sabotage.
But there's a simpler explanation: to many people, Dr Pepper genuinely does taste somewhat like prune juice. Or at least, it has a fruity, slightly mysterious quality that the mind reaches for familiar comparisons to describe. "It tastes kind of like prunes" is an honest sensory assessment, even if it's not an accurate ingredient list.
A Formula in Two Halves
Like Coca-Cola's legendary recipe, the Dr Pepper formula is a closely guarded trade secret. According to company lore, the recipe is physically split in two, with each half stored in a safe deposit box in a different Dallas bank. This way, no single person—and no single security breach—could ever expose the complete formula.
In 2009, a tantalizing discovery emerged. A man named Bill Waters was shopping at antique stores in the Texas Panhandle when he found an old ledger book filled with formulas and recipes. Letterheads and other details suggested it came from the W.B. Morrison & Co. Old Corner Drug Store—the very establishment where Dr Pepper was invented.
One recipe particularly caught the eye of historians: "Dr Peppers Pepsin Bitters."
Could this be the original formula?
The company says no. According to Keurig Dr Pepper (the drink's current parent company), this was a recipe for a medicinal digestive aid, not the soft drink we know today. The ledger went up for auction in May 2009. Nobody bought it—suggesting that either collectors agreed with the company's assessment, or the asking price was simply too high for something of uncertain provenance.
The Antitrust Beverage
Dr Pepper's corporate history reads like a law school textbook on antitrust policy. The drink has been at the center of more federal trade investigations than perhaps any other beverage in American history.
In 1951, Dr Pepper sued Coca-Cola for what we'd now call predatory pricing—selling 6.5-ounce Cokes below cost to squeeze out competition. The lawsuit sought $750,000, which would be nearly eight million dollars today.
Then came the pivotal 1969 decision. Dr Pepper successfully argued in court that it was not a cola—a legal distinction that proved enormously valuable. Because Dr Pepper occupied its own category, bottlers who had exclusive contracts with Coca-Cola weren't violating those agreements by also bottling Dr Pepper. This opened up distribution channels that would have otherwise been closed.
W.W. "Foots" Clements, then president and chief executive officer of Dr Pepper, used this legal victory to convince the Coca-Cola Bottling Company of New York—the largest Coca-Cola bottler in the world—to also bottle and distribute Dr Pepper in the New York metropolitan area. His competitor was now helping him reach millions of customers.
Coca-Cola learned from this experience. In 1972, they tried to introduce a competing drink called "Peppo." Dr Pepper sued for trademark infringement. The drink was hastily renamed Mr. Pibb—a beverage that still exists today as "Pibb Xtra" and occupies a curious position as the closest thing to a Dr Pepper knockoff that a major company dares to produce.
The Great Merger That Wasn't
The early 1980s were rough for Dr Pepper. The company became insolvent, requiring an investment group to take it private. Coca-Cola, seeing an opportunity to finally absorb its pepper-flavored rival, attempted to acquire the company.
The Federal Trade Commission blocked the deal.
Their reasoning would prove prophetic. In 1995, when Coca-Cola again tried to acquire Dr Pepper (which by then had merged with Seven Up), the Federal Trade Commission again said no. The concern wasn't just about market share in the cola business. The regulators specifically worried about Coca-Cola establishing a monopoly in the "pepper" flavor category.
This is remarkable when you think about it. The federal government officially recognized that "pepper soda" was its own distinct market—not a subcategory of cola, but a separate thing worth protecting from monopolization. Dr Pepper's lawyers had spent decades arguing the drink wasn't a cola. Now that argument was being used to shield it from corporate absorption.
A Global Patchwork
Here's where things get complicated: depending on where you are in the world, Dr Pepper might be made by completely different companies.
In the United States, Canada, and Mexico, Keurig Dr Pepper handles production. In the United Kingdom, Ireland, Japan, and South Korea, The Coca-Cola Company makes it. In several other markets, PepsiCo is the manufacturer. Yes, that means the two biggest rivals in the cola wars are both, in different territories, producing the drink that legally isn't a cola.
This strange arrangement traces back to the failed mergers and subsequent corporate reshuffling. When Dr Pepper and Seven Up merged in the late 1980s, they gave up international branding rights. Coca-Cola picked up most non-US rights to Dr Pepper; PepsiCo grabbed Seven Up in those same markets.
The result is that Dr Pepper in London might taste slightly different from Dr Pepper in New York—not because the secret formula changed, but because different companies interpret it with different water sources, sweeteners, and manufacturing processes.
In some countries, the drink simply isn't available. Thailand and North Korea are among the places where you cannot buy Dr Pepper. In Australia and New Zealand, local bottling stopped years ago, but you can find imported versions in specialty retailers and the British sections of major supermarkets. In Serbia, your only option is the 0.33-liter cans sold at select NIS and Gazprom gas stations.
Drink It Hot
In the early 1960s, Dr Pepper's marketing department tried something unusual: they promoted drinking the soda hot.
The suggestion was to heat Dr Pepper and serve it with lemon slices during winter months. This wasn't as strange as it might sound. Hot toddies and mulled drinks have ancient traditions, and the complex, spicy-fruity flavor of Dr Pepper might genuinely work warm in a way that, say, Sprite would not.
The campaign didn't transform American drinking habits, but it embedded itself in cultural memory. The 1999 film "Blast from the Past," set partly in the early 1960s, featured the hot Dr Pepper as a period detail. Some fans still swear by the practice today.
The 10-2-4 Schedule
One of Dr Pepper's longest-running campaigns centered on a peculiar drinking schedule: consume the beverage at 10 a.m., 2 p.m., and 4 p.m.
This wasn't arbitrary. The campaign was based on research suggesting that blood sugar levels dip at those times, causing mid-morning and mid-afternoon slumps. Dr Pepper, with its sugar and caffeine, could supposedly provide a pick-me-up precisely when your body needed it most.
During World War II, this concept spawned a syndicated radio program called "The 10-2-4 Ranch" (later renamed "10-2-4 Time"). The show aired across the Southern United States and other regions where Dr Pepper had distribution. It featured Dick Foran and the Sons of the Pioneers, the same Western vocal group that would later gain fame through their work with Roy Rogers.
The 10-2-4 numbers became so associated with the brand that they appeared on bottles and clocks for decades. It was one of the first examples of a soft drink company not just selling a product, but prescribing a lifestyle rhythm around it.
"I'm a Pepper"
In 1977, songwriter Jake Holmes created what would become one of the most memorable advertising jingles in American history: "Be a Pepper."
The lyrics were simple but insidiously catchy:
I'm a Pepper, he's a Pepper,
She's a Pepper, we're a Pepper,
Wouldn't you like to be a Pepper, too?
Be a Pepper. Drink Dr Pepper.
The commercials featured elaborate dance sequences choreographed by Tony Stevens, with a young actor named David Naughton leading crowds of enthusiastic "Peppers" through coordinated routines. Naughton would later star in "An American Werewolf in London," but for a generation of television viewers, he was first and foremost the Pepper guy.
The campaign ran until 1985 and became so culturally embedded that parodies were inevitable. The Canadian sketch comedy show "SCTV" produced a version in 1981 featuring Eugene Levy as an injured man praising his physician, with patients in casts and crutches dancing and singing "Wouldn't you like to see my doctor, too?" The sketch ended with the alarmed doctor (Rick Moranis) shouting, "These people should not be dancing!"
Barry Manilow performed the jingle in his concerts and on albums. The song's structure—that cascading "I'm a... he's a... she's a... we're a..." pattern—became a template for countless imitations and references.
It's Not for Women
In 2011, Dr Pepper introduced a ten-calorie variant called Dr Pepper Ten, accompanied by what became one of the decade's most controversial advertising campaigns.
The premise: most diet soft drinks were perceived as feminine. Men, supposedly, felt embarrassed ordering them. Dr Pepper Ten would be different. Its commercials featured action-movie imagery and a declaration that other diet drinks were "lady drinks." The Facebook page offered "Man'Ments"—masculine commandments. The slogan was blunt: "It's Not for Women."
Critics immediately pointed out that explicitly excluding half the population from your target market was both offensive and, from a pure business standpoint, bizarre. The campaign seemed designed to provoke exactly the kind of controversy it received.
Whether it worked depends on what you think the goal was. Dr Pepper Ten never became a major product line, but the campaign generated enormous media attention. The company got its name in countless articles and television segments—the kind of earned media that advertising dollars alone can't buy.
The Twenty-Three Flavors
Dr Pepper is often described as containing twenty-three flavors. The company has never revealed what those twenty-three flavors are, which has led to decades of speculation and amateur chemistry.
Various attempts to reverse-engineer the formula have proposed ingredients including amaretto, almond, blackberry, black licorice, caramel, carrot, clove, cherry, cola, ginger, juniper, lemon, molasses, nutmeg, orange, prune, plum, pepper, root beer, rum, raspberry, tomato, and vanilla. That list contains more than twenty-three items, which gives you a sense of how imprecise these guesses are.
What we do know: the drink contains no actual pepper (despite the name), no prune juice (despite the rumor), and whatever combination of ingredients it does contain creates a flavor profile that, after nearly 140 years, still hasn't been successfully duplicated by competitors.
W.W. Clements, the former chief executive who shepherded the company through its antitrust battles, described the challenge of marketing something undefinable: "I've always maintained you cannot tell anyone what Dr Pepper tastes like because it's so different. It's not an apple, it's not an orange, it's not a strawberry, it's not a root beer, it's not even a cola. It's a different kind of drink with a unique taste all its own."
Beyond the Bottle
Dr Pepper's distinctive flavor has been licensed for an unexpectedly wide range of products. The Jelly Belly company makes Dr Pepper-flavored jelly beans. Hubba Bubba produces Dr Pepper bubble gum in the same dark burgundy color as the soda. Bonne Bell's "Lip Smackers" lip balm line includes a Dr Pepper variant.
There's Dr Pepper barbecue sauce and Dr Pepper marinade, both made in collaboration with Vita Food Products. The Serious Bean Company makes baked beans with Dr Pepper in the sauce. You can buy Dr Pepper Slurpees at 7-Eleven stores.
For a brief period, you could even buy a Dr Pepper iPod skin cover, though that product has been discontinued—a casualty of Apple's shift away from click-wheel music players rather than any particular failure of the Dr Pepper brand.
The Oldest Major Soft Drink
Dr Pepper occupies a curious position in American beverage history. It predates Coca-Cola by a year and Pepsi by a decade. It has survived antitrust battles, corporate takeovers, changes in American taste, and the rise and fall of countless competitors. It has been bottled by both of its main rivals in different markets around the world.
And after all that, it still can't be classified.
The Food and Drug Administration says it's not a cola. It's not a root beer. It's not fruit-flavored. The courts have upheld these distinctions in antitrust rulings. The prune juice conspiracy remains unproven. The twenty-three flavors remain secret. The doctor, if he ever existed, remains unidentified.
Maybe that's appropriate. In a marketplace dominated by careful brand positioning and precise demographic targeting, Dr Pepper endures precisely because it refuses to be pinned down. It's not the best-selling, but it's second. It's not the oldest, but it's older than everyone assumes. It doesn't taste like anything else, which means it also doesn't compete directly with anything else.
Charles Alderton just wanted to bottle the smell of a Texas drugstore. Nearly a hundred and forty years later, we're still drinking the result—and still unable to explain exactly what it is.