Starting May 12, Avelo Airlines, a budget carrier, is scheduled to begin flights chartered by the U.S. government to fly from Mesa, Ariz., to El Salvador. The Boeing 737s will be carrying not vacationers but people, in shackles, who are being deported, destined for a known hellhole of a prison.

Even before the plane took off, Avelo had touched down in a public relations fiasco. Avelo said it was proud to assist the government, yet all but stated that it needed the business. The company is a startup, an Ultra Low Cost Carrier (ULCC) that operates out of secondary airports such as Wilmington, Del. Avelo quickly became the target of a boycott by groups in Delaware, as well as Connecticut and California, where it operates, who accused the airline of transporting people who were being deported without due process. For that same reason, Connecticut’s attorney general, Will Tong, threatened Avelo’s tax breaks and subsidies.

A higher-profile company, Tesla, has learned the cost of the controversy created by its CEO, Elon Musk, who spent $250 million to help elect Donald Trump president and then fired tens of thousands of federal workers in his role as the head of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE).

The world’s richest man has lost some $150 billion in wealth this year as shares in his car company continue to fall. Tesla reported that its profits dropped 71% and revenue from car ales declined 20% in the first quarter as customers abandoned a brand once viewed as progressive and eco-friendly. But Musk’s ties to Trump have made the Tesla brand toxic. The used car market is flush with Teslas, as owners abandon the company. Tesla owners who can’t afford to unload them display bumper stickers proclaiming, “I bought this before Elon went crazy.”

For other companies caught one way or another in the political crossfire—Target, Anheuser-Busch, Costco—it’s a year that offers lots of bad options concerning brand and reputational risk as America’s politics continue get more strained. And pained.

Even America as a brand is in play, the golden door having been slammed shut, the world leader now becoming isolationist. The president of the U.S. dissing Canada, geography’s nicest neighbors, has set off a boycott by Canadian tourists that is already apparent in places like Las Vegas, New York, and Florida.  

Within this political maelstrom, companies are trying to figure out is whether consumers are going to turn every purchase decision into a political one. As for me, I'm just trying to buy paper towels on the cheap.  Does my cereal choice really have to be a commentary on the Trump Administration?  Can’t a hamburger just be a hamburger? Increasingly, the answer is no.

The Hazard of Getting Outside the Brand Fit

Of all the corporate jobs I wouldn’t want to have right now—other than DEI director—brand manager might be one of them. This used to be a fairly straightforward assignment. If you are in charge of say, Ivory Soap, your job is to make sure the brand speaks to purity, cleanliness and motherhood.

But in our over-politicized world, virtue signaling and value signaling can trip over each other. And when they do, there’s trouble. We saw this happen, most spectacularly, when Anheuser-Busch’s Bud Lite brand decided to do a promotion with a transgender influencer Dylan Mulvaney. There was an actual brand fit—Bud Lite has a longstanding marketing presence in the LBGTQ community, just as it does in deep red areas. And given that Bud Lite had run some pretty insipid creative in the past (and I’m talking about you, Spuds MacKenzie), this promotion should have had a half-life of about 30 seconds.

But Bud’s umbrella brand image of traditional American masculinity—all of it pulled by Clydesdale horses—was too much for MAGA America, which staged a loud boycott. Bud Lite’s sales tanked until the company counter-programmed with the reddest of red, white and blue advertising. Gay and trans people are still drinking Bud Lite, presumably, but you are just not going to see that highlighted as much. 

You can call A-B a coward for being bullied, but brands, and the companies behind them, adjust their identities at considerable peril. Consider what happened to BP, the British oil giant that tried to reposition itself as a green energy company.  Then its Texas refinery blew up, revealing the firm’s horrible environmental record. Granted, oil companies did green energy pantomime during the Biden Administration, but they are suddenly oil-and-gas companies again, as opposed to the energy companies.

And maybe that kind of honesty is preferable. Resource extraction is a dirty business. If you’re driving a gasoline-powered auto, maybe you shouldn’t expect chlorophyl from a hydrocarbon seller;  just fill’er up, shut up, and drive.

But if  you want to know how to do down-and-dirty,  there’s Waste Management, now known as WM, which has managed to raise trash removal to some kind of sacred environmental  mission. WM’s communications all but scream, “We love garbage!” It’s a clear corporate statement that shareholders and other constituencies can understand.

How Much Leeway Does a Brand Have?

A company’s brand or trademark is often explained in terms of permission: What does your brand or logo allow you to offer customers? Being Budweiser gives you permission to market the beer made by a company founded by a German immigrant—that is now part of a Belgian-Brazilian conglomerate—as All-American. But Anheuser-Busch earned that permission over the last 100 years of brand communication. What it doesn’t permit you to do is engage in identity politics, at least not today.

And not every brand-marketing failure is caused by controversy. In the 1980s the old-line retailer Sears, Roebuck bought Dean Witter, an old-line stockbroker. The reasoning was that consumers would gladly buy stocks where they buy socks. Because both firms were trusted, went the logic. But people didn’t shop for equities and power tools the same way, wouldn’t you know. Sears had neither mission nor permission to sell stocks.

Costco, on the other hand, is an example of a company that had permission from its customers to freely reject the anti-DEI initiatives of the Trump Administration. From its beginning as a membership wholesale club, Costco was green, liberal, worker-friendly and an absolutely first-rate operation. Customers love the place because cheap groceries and merchandising magic are bipartisan. There was no red drain from Costco’s coffers, because the company and its culture were behaving in the way that co-founder Jim Sinegal had executed from the start.

On the other hand, poor Target, the midwestern retailer that’s been a favorite of young families, managed to catch it from both the left and the right by trying to please both. Target’s decision to back away from its DEI program, which included supporting gay rights, infuriated the soccer-mom set as well as Black shoppers. The ensuing boycott has hurt in-store traffic, down 9% in February and 6.5% in March  vs. the prior year, compelled CEO Brian Cornell to seek a meeting with Black leaders to try to repair the damage. The company pledged to buy $2 billion from Black-owned suppliers. But not everyone in the community is onboard.

Then we’ve got Ben & Jerry’s, where the corporate owner, the Dutch conglomerate Unilever, just fired the CEO for being too political, even though the brand has a stated mandate to be socially progressive. This in the context of Unilever's decision to sell its ice-cream portfolio, which the company carefully assembled and artfully mismanaged. 

Co-founders Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield have offered to buy back the company and return the brand to its progressive roots. Set Chunky Monkey free! That might not matter to people who just want some chocolate ice cream. But if you are part of the company and its community, you care a lot, because the politics are part of the culture.

That’s why nobody expects Patagonia to be anything but a fierce environmental steward, because that’s exactly the company that Yves Chouinard created. How fierce? In 2021, Patagonia pulled its business from the Jackson Hole Mountain Resort after a then-owner hosted a fundraiser for far-right, which is to say anti-green, Republicans.

Essentially, Patagonia fired one of its prestige customers. You might label that decision as extreme, but it’s also an example of a company living up to its culture and mission. Over the long term, there may be way more value in reinforcing the mission than losing a customer.

Bill Saporito is an editor at large at Inc. magazine whose work has also appeared in the New York Times and Washington Post. Previously, he worked as an assistant managing editor at Time magazine and as a senior editor at Fortune. He has written for From Day One on the power gap among labor unions, the myth of the “woke” corporation, and the perils of getting technology and people misaligned.

(Featured photo: People take part in a protest on March 2025 outside of the Tesla centre at Park Royal in West London, as part of a campaign encouraging customers to boycott Tesla. Photo by Stefan Rousseau/Associated Press)