Brands Can’t Have It Both Ways.
You can’t preach purpose on Monday and bankroll its enemies on Tuesday. Brands that try to straddle both sides always lose.
The New Reality
Every company loves to talk values. But values don’t mean anything until they’re tested. And right now, brands are being tested in ways they never expected. Outrage is weaponized. Violence is mainstream. A Pride display, a DEI officer, or an ad with the “wrong” influencer is enough to trigger threats, boycotts, and political grandstanding.
This isn’t theoretical anymore. Purpose has real-world consequences. The brands still trying to hedge, to play both sides, are getting crushed.
Target: Safety vs. Spine
Target built its reputation on inclusivity. But when threats came over Pride merchandise, it folded. Products were pulled, displays were moved, and the company pointed to employee safety. Understandable, but devastating. The second inclusivity became conditional, the social contract cracked. Target alienated the communities it claimed to support and emboldened the extremists who attacked it.
Inclusivity isn’t inclusive if it disappears the moment it’s inconvenient.
Chick-fil-A: Values in the Crosshairs
Even brands born from conservative values aren’t immune. Chick-fil-A has long been defined by its faith-based ethos. But appointing a Chief Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion officer was enough to spark outrage from its own base. Suddenly, the brand was caught between the identity it built and the market it now needs.
This is the reality: you can’t expand into a diverse customer base while pandering to reactionary politics. At some point, the contradictions catch up.
Disney: Picking a Fight or Protecting Purpose?
Disney’s battle with Florida politicians is the case study in why brands can’t sit on the fence. For decades, Disney avoided politics, presenting itself as family-friendly neutrality. But when the “Don’t Say Gay” bill put its LGBTQ employees and guests in the line of fire, silence became untenable.
Once Disney took a stand, retaliation followed. Yet the alternative, silence, would have been worse. Disney’s purpose is to create worlds where everyone belongs. Abandoning that would have been the bigger betrayal. The fight is ugly, but at least it’s honest.
Bud Light: The Textbook Failure
Bud Light is the clearest example of what happens when a brand tries to have it both ways. The Dylan Mulvaney partnership should have been simple: a gesture of inclusion in line with a brand trying to reach younger, more diverse audiences.
Instead, the backlash hit, and Bud Light panicked. A mealy-mouthed statement from the CEO promised to “focus on what we do best, brewing great beer.” No defense of the campaign, no support for the influencer, no alignment with values. The result? Conservative boycotts, progressive outrage, collapsing sales, and brand equity in freefall.
When you market to a community without actually supporting them, you lose everyone.
The Real Lesson
Performative purpose is dead. Slapping a rainbow on your logo in June or running a Women’s History Month ad without structural alignment is a liability, not an asset. Miller understood this when it reframed women in beer advertising. Critics barked, Miller stood firm, and sales went up 18%. That’s conviction.
Bud Light crumbled, and it will spend years rebuilding what it lost in a single campaign. That’s cowardice.
Bottom Line
Purpose is no longer a brand asset you dust off for campaigns. It’s a filter for survival. In an environment where outrage is armed and amplified, brands can’t afford to hedge.
Target, Chick-fil-A, Disney, Bud Light, all prove the same point in different ways. You can’t please everyone. You can’t “balance” inclusion with appeasement. You can’t market to communities you’re not prepared to actually stand with.
Purpose is binary now. You either own it, fully, consistently, and at cost, or you abandon it.
And if you try to have it both ways? You lose both.
