From grain to game-changer: the story of oat-milk pioneer Rickard Öste

In the late 1980s, tucked inside the labs of Lund University, Rickard Öste wasn’t trying to start a revolution. He was simply studying how people digest food – or, increasingly, didn’t. Lactose intolerance was rising, dairy was the unquestioned default, and the gap between the two was only widening.

Then came a small but catalytic moment. During a meeting with a grain trader, a handful of oats lay casually on the table. That meeting triggered a thought: maybe oats – a grain deeply rooted in Swedish soil and diet – could offer a gentler, more sustainable alternative. Back in Lund, Öste gathered a small team and did what scientists do best: question everything. Oats stopped being breakfast and became raw material. Using enzyme chemistry, they coaxed the grain into something new – breaking down starches, preserving fibres, especially those beta-glucans that give oats their nutritional punch.

It wasn’t quick. After years of tinkering, testing, refining, in 1993 Öste and colleagues finally produced a prototype: an oat-based drink that was smooth, mild, and surprisingly milk-like. Taste and texture worked. Nutrition worked. All that remained was to bring it out of the lab. A patent followed in 1994, laying the foundation for Oatly’s future. 

That same year, Rickard Öste and his brother Björn founded Ceba AB – the company that would become Oatly – with one simple idea: if oats could be transformed in the lab, they could be transformed in the world. Early reactions weren’t exactly promising. One dairy executive reportedly spat the oat drink out, calling it ‘unsellable.’ Other food companies passed on the innovation entirely.

So the Öste brothers did it themselves. They launched their own oat drink in Sweden and the UK, laying the groundwork for Oatly, officially founded in 2001. For years, oat milk stayed niche,  a quiet option for lactose-intolerant consumers and plant-curious eaters.

Everything shifted in 2012. New CEO Toni Petersson reimagined Oatly as a bold challenger brand: more cultural movement than milk substitute. A 2014 video of Petersson singing ‘Wow, wow, no cow’ in an oat field went viral, and suddenly Oatly wasn't just a product, it was a personality.

The dairy industry pushed back hard. Sweden’s dairy lobby sued Oatly in 2015 for comparing oats to cow’s milk. Oatly lost the case but won the narrative, publishing the court documents and turning the lawsuit into a rallying cry. Sales jumped 45%.

From cafés to supermarkets, the brand spread – helped by the Barista Edition that won over coffee professionals and sparked a global oat-latte wave. By the time Oatly hit the U.S. in 2018, demand was so intense it triggered oat-milk shortages, a clear signal that the product had moved from curiosity to mainstream.

Even as Oatly grew into a global brand, Rickard Öste remained rooted in academia. He maintains a part-time professorship at Lund University and continues to explore big questions about food, health, and sustainable nutrition. Öste has over 25 years of experience in both academic and commercial research, with 100+ publications, patents, and a long list of food-science ventures beyond oat-milk.

He’s not an activist or a loud brand-messenger. He’s a scientist, but one whose quiet curiosity helped hundreds of millions rethink what goes in their coffee cup. All of Oatly’s new products are painstakingly researched and developed in his lab – just as they were 30 years ago.

When we look back at the early 1990s, the idea of a creamy oat-based milk was almost laughable. Dairy was the default and oats were breakfast.

Yet from that humble grain, through enzyme chemistry, shrewd marketing, stubborn optimism, and a few setbacks against entrenched dairy interests, Rickard Öste helped build something far more meaningful than a dairy alternative. He helped build an argument about food, sustainability, health, and choices disguised in familiar packaging and café menus.

And maybe that’s the most radical thing of all: You don’t always need a megaphone to change the world. Sometimes, you only need a microscope (and a handful of oats spread out on a table).