Breweries, Racial Justice, and Social Change

George Floyd was killed one month ago today. The senseless murder (a term that describes the event, if not the legal resolution) was in many ways just business as usual: it wasn’t the first time the police killed a Black man for no reason—not even the first time this year. And yet, coming amid a pandemic which was, in myriad ways, disproportionately affecting Black Americans, something changed. A big part of it was the evident evil of the act, indefensible even by the incredibly low standards of American policing, and part of it was the video document, which brought the visceral horror of these events into emotional focus. There have been constant protests across the country in the month since, and the calls to address systemic racism with real change have already born tangible results. This is all very heartening.

The change has been so immediate and pervasive, and the problem—systemic white supremacy—so pernicious that it has touched every part of society. Protesters regularly chant “silence is compliance,” and it has become a sentiment many normally apolitical people and entities have come to share. When problems are systemic, not acting reinforces the status quo. The speed and pervasiveness of this movement are unprecedented, and it has been remarkable to witness. But it has also posed serious challenges about how to participate in a way that was more than just performative. For private businesses, who are not well-positioned to be agents of social change, it has been even trickier.

Conflicts and Compromises

Private businesses exist to make money. They may create or sell goods, or provide services, but their nature is transactional. Further, there is a tension in the transaction because the seller wants to maximize profits, while the buyer wants to minimize them. There is a coercive element in advertising, which is part of this dynamic, as the business attempts, often in good faith, to convince you to buy their product.

This is why businesses are not great vehicles for social change. In every act of altruism there exists the possibility of manipulation, of selling. If companies are advertising their generosity, is it really all that generous—or just advertising in another form? Furthermore, businesses have to be careful not to take positions that alienate potential customers, which further compromises their efforts to achieve these ends. It’s not judgmental to point out these tensions—they’re innate given what businesses are. And, If it seems too cynical, consider matters from the other perpective. If a group wants to achieve some charitable end—racial justice, cancer research, educational reform—are businesses the best instrument to achieve them? Because of the compromises they must make in their transactional structure, clearly not.

And yet businesses are also not separate from the communities they serve. This is really true with restaurants and breweries, which become integral to the lived experience of towns and cities. Just yesterday, Portland lost a 27-year-old fixture in the Montage restaurant. It was a classic Portland institution—funky, offbeat, and a weird combo of downscale and upscale. Its loss, like the losses last year of the Old Lompoc and Bridgeport breweries, will leave Portland a changed city.

The people who own and work at these companies often feel a deep connection to their customers. Even thinking of them as mere customers seems to diminish how they feel about them. In yet another tragedy, we saw this play out when David McAtee was killed in Louisville during these protests. After his death, we heard amazing stories about what a central place his barbecue restaurant, YaYa’s, was to the city. I have visited breweries that were founded in the 18th and 19th century who have relationships with generations of customers and think of them as family—and now craft breweries are developing similar relationships in their communities.

So on one hand businesses are transactional entities who extract wealth from a community, and on the other, they are treasured members of the community who give a place character and soul. Both things are true, and both complicate the response to this moment of racial reckoning.

Reacting to Injustice

When the Black Lives Matter protests started, it wasn’t clear how they’d be received. We look back with pride and appreciation at MLK as a national treasure, but he and his movement were not popular among whites in the 1960s. In less than a week, however, it was clear we had experienced a collective national trauma and that the protesters are broadly speaking for most Americans. (There has been core, if declining, support for white supremacy for 401 years, and it’s not going anywhere, of course.) The national epiphany completely scrambled racial dynamics, and the calls of “silence is compliance” compelled many to act. That in turn created an environment in which not voicing support for the movement became the loudest statement. And, when that became the case, we entered the thicket of businesses’ compromised status in full.

On the one hand, I think it’s fine that this has happened, and I give every business the benefit of the doubt that their words are from the heart. There’s something amazing about a situation in which celebrating racial justice has become the norm. On the other hand, however, we have to recognize that words are cheap. While I extend the benefit of the doubt to businesses, I am also aware that some of the statements are empty spin or worse—after all, businesses are a part of the culture we now acknowledge has deep problems with structural racism. Businesses do not stand outside that.

This tension was highlighted by scrutiny of several large companies who issued these statements. Tech companies are performative in their support of social and racial issues, but they have terrible records with BIPOC hiring. Nike, a company built on the star power of Black athletes, rushed out a video supporting BLM. Before long, people were pointing out that the company had a very white leadership team. Support, it seemed, had not extended to the C-levels. Companies truly committed to racial equity put policies and processes in place years before the protests started.


Real Change

Racial justice is a long game. It won’t be won this year or the next. Because of that, I think we need to be cautious in what we expect of businesses in the short term, and ambitious in the long term. Business itself may not be a great vehicle for social change, but there are key ways they can address institutional issues that support structural racism. Giving workers good jobs, with generous salaries and benefits, can be a major force for good. Hiring BIPOC employees into these jobs is the first step, but as the Nike example shows, it’s important to bring diversity to all levels of a company. People far more knowledgeable than me have commented on the actions companies can take, and I trust the truly committed with seek it out. (I’ve also been interrogating my own work and practices to see where I can make change as well.)

To wrap this up, as someone who writes about businesses, I am aware of the ways companies are and aren’t able to be vehicles for change. I would not expect a brewery owner to take the lead on addressing racial injustice any more than I would expect them to be an expert on viral epidemiology or global democracy. I think it’s fine to expect to hear where a brewery stands on important social issues. Yet breweries can play a real role here, but it’s less visible and will take years to fully implement. They can support Black lives in their leadership structure, their employment, their policies, language, and branding. Those acts may not be easy to see or implement, but they are powerful. As drinkers and fans, we should support them to do the hard, slow work and focus less on the performative elements. We should probably cut them a break for public missteps that come with engaging the issue honestly and squarely, but be far more critical when we learn they have poor records of hiring and treatment of BIPOC employees.

This is an amazing, wonderful time full of promise and possibility of large-scale societal change—the first in three generations. It will probably be a messy transition, and we’ll make mistakes as we go. I hope we don’t let fear of making a wrong step paralyze us, though. As a middle-aged white guy, I wondered about writing this—just as one example. And yet it is our country, our communities. We have to be willing to make mistakes, have them corrected, and make amends and change our behavior. It will be uncomfortable for some of us, and humbling. And it is absolutely essential we’re willing to sit in that space. The results, if we can do it, will be transformational.