When health experts, longevity gurus, and wellness influencers map out the fundamentals of human survival, the foundation is universal: drink plenty of clean, plain water. The human body is roughly sixty percent water, and medical consensus has long maintained that sustained cellular health, metabolic stability, and cognitive performance require regular hydration without excess additives.
Yet Warren Buffett, the billionaire chairman of Berkshire Hathaway and universally acclaimed “Oracle of Omaha,” continues to defy conventional wisdom with unmatched flair. According to a dinner anecdote shared by fellow billionaire and hedge fund manager Bill Ackman, Buffett made a startling personal confession: he has not consumed a glass of plain water in 48 years, choosing instead to fuel his storied career and longevity on Cherry Coke.
The anecdote offers a striking look at the intersection of habit, genetics, business, and personal philosophy that defines one of the most successful investors in modern history.
The Dinner Revelation
The story surfaced during Bill Ackman’s appearance on the Equity Mates Investing podcast. Recalling a dinner he hosted for Buffett at his home, Ackman explained that, like any thoughtful host aware of Buffett’s legendary tastes, he had made sure the refrigerator was well-stocked with Coca-Cola products.
Before opening the sodas, Ackman extended standard hospitality, offering Buffett a glass of still or sparkling water. Buffett dismissed the gesture with immediate familiarity. When Ackman pressed gently, asking if the investing icon ever drank water, Buffett responded with a deadpan remark: “Bill, I haven’t had water in 48 years”.
While it remains an open question whether Buffett’s quip was literal or characteristic Midwestern hyperbole, it aligns seamlessly with a dietary reputation built over decades in public view. Buffett does not pretend to dabble in health trends; he drinks what he likes, and what he likes comes in a crimson aluminum can.
A Childhood Palate on Wall Street
Buffett’s preference for junk food and sugary carbonation is well documented. In a famous 2015 interview with Fortune, he confessed to drinking roughly five 12-ounce cans of Coca-Cola every day—three during daylight hours and two in the evening.
“I’m one quarter Coca-Cola,” he quipped, estimating that soft drinks made up roughly a quarter of his daily 2,700-calorie intake.
His morning routine has become corporate lore. On his drive to Berkshire’s headquarters in Kiewit Plaza, Omaha, Buffett regularly stops at a McDonald’s drive-thru, choosing between a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit or two sausage patties depending on whether the futures market is up or down. Lunch often consists of a hot dog, salted potato sticks, or Dairy Queen, topped off with peanut brittle from See’s Candies—two brands under Berkshire Hathaway’s sprawling conglomerate umbrella.
Buffett’s reasoning, delivered with his trademark wit, rests on a tongue-in-cheek reading of mortality statistics. He once explained that he consulted actuarial tables to find the demographic group with the lowest death rate. The answer: six-year-olds. “So I decided to eat like a six-year-old,” Buffett joked. “It’s the safest course I can take.”
The Shift from Pepsi to Cherry Coke
Buffett did not start his soda-drinking life as a Coca-Cola devotee. For nearly half a century, he was actually a committed drinker of Pepsi.
The turning point arrived in the mid-1980s via Don Keough, a former neighbor of Buffett’s in Omaha who had risen to become president and chief operating officer of The Coca-Cola Company. In 1985, Coca-Cola introduced Cherry Coke. Keough sent samples to Buffett, knowing his neighbor’s sweet tooth.
The beverage converted Buffett instantly. In his 1986 letter to Berkshire Hathaway shareholders, Buffett crowned Cherry Coke the official soft drink of the annual shareholder meetings. Within a few years, Berkshire began purchasing massive tranches of Coca-Cola stock following the 1987 market crash. That initial $1.3 billion bet blossomed into a historic position, returning billions in annual dividends and serving as a case study for Buffett’s philosophy of investing in simple, high-moat consumer staples that customers reach for daily.
Biological Reality vs. Statistical Anomaly
From a physiological perspective, Buffett’s claim of abstaining from plain water raises obvious questions. How does a human being survive, much less remain sharp and vigorous well into their nineties, without drinking water?
The simple answer lies in the physics of beverages: sodas, coffee, tea, and juice are almost entirely water by volume. While soda carries significant amounts of high-fructose corn syrup, phosphoric acid, and caffeine, the fluid base still provides hydration. The outdated myth that caffeinated soft drinks act as net diuretics has long been debunked by hydration researchers; the diuretic effect of moderate caffeine is outweighed by the volume of water the beverage delivers.
However, medical professionals are quick to stress that surviving on soda is far from advisable. Regularly drinking five cans of sugary soda per day introduces substantial risks:
- Glycemic stress: Massive spikes in blood glucose and insulin resistance increase the likelihood of type 2 diabetes.
- Metabolic and cardiovascular strain: High refined sugar intake drives visceral fat accumulation and triglyceride elevation.
- Dental and bone erosion: Phosphoric acid and sugar accelerate enamel decay and disrupt calcium absorption.
Buffett is what epidemiologists call an extreme genetic outlier. Just as some individuals smoke into their nineties without developing lung disease, Buffett’s system possesses resilience that defies normal metabolic degradation. Attempting to replicate his routine as a longevity strategy would prove disastrous for most people.
Happiness as a Counterweight
Beyond genetics, Buffett attributes his sustained health and clarity to a factor often sidelined in clinical discussions: genuine, uncompromised happiness.
Buffett has repeatedly argued that the stress of depriving oneself of daily pleasures might be worse for the heart than the foods themselves. “I think happiness makes an enormous difference in terms of longevity,” he noted in a past interview. “And I’m happier when I’m drinking a Coke or eating a hot fudge sundae.”
He and his late partner, Charlie Munger, famously rejected the modern wellness industry’s focus on strict physical regimens, gym memberships, and restrictive diets. Munger, who lived to ninety-nine, maintained a similar fondness for peanut brittle and Diet Coke during public appearances. Both men prioritized low emotional friction, intellectual curiosity, lifelong learning, and deep autonomy over calorie counting and biohacking.
A Lesson in Knowing Yourself
Warren Buffett’s 48-year boycott of plain water is less of a dietary recommendation and more of an archetype of the man himself. It reflects an investor who operates strictly on first principles, unapologetic about his quirks and unswayed by peer pressure, social conventions, or shifting cultural fads.
In investing, Buffett built an empire by ignoring prevailing Wall Street fashions in favor of what made sense to him. In life, he appears to apply the exact same logic to his kitchen pantry.
While medical science will continue to urge everyone else to drink their recommended eight glasses of water a day, Buffett will almost certainly remain seated at his Omaha desk, reading quarterly reports, smiling through the bubbles, and nursing a cold can of Cherry Coke.
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