In the pantheon of overhyped tech flops, Juicero holds a special place. Launched with Silicon Valley glitz and backed by nearly $120 million from investors including Google Ventures and Kleiner Perkins, Juicero promised to revolutionize the way we drink juice. Their pitch? A sleek, Wi-Fi-connected juice press that squeezed juice from proprietary pre-packed fruit and veggie pouches. It was minimalist, clean, futuristic—and cost $400.
But the real squeeze came when customers realized something embarrassing: you didn’t need the machine at all. With just your hands, you could squeeze the exact same pouch and get the same juice. No smart tech. No app. No $400 hardware.
The backlash was swift. Videos went viral showing users ditching the press and squeezing bags like Capri Sun. Juicero became a laughingstock, a meme, a symbol of Silicon Valley’s obsession with overengineering problems that don’t exist.
Even more damning was the fact that the Juicero machine had DRM (digital rights management) built in. It scanned each QR code on the pouch and required an internet connection to confirm freshness and authenticity—something most people didn’t want or need in their kitchen.
By 2017, just two years after its launch, Juicero shut down. Investors lost millions. Customers were left with bulky countertop bricks. And the tech world was left with one of the most comical cautionary tales in startup history.
Juicero wasn’t a scam in the traditional sense—no one was breaking laws. But it showed how tech companies can bloat simple ideas, overpromise innovation, and waste vast sums of money on products that solve nothing. It wasn’t just a $400 juicer. It was a $400 lesson in Silicon Valley excess.