The absurd corporatism of Pride

I was chatting with a student in my Public Relations Writing class recently, and we were talking about a potential job fit with a professional sports franchise. We were both excited about the student’s potential opportunity, until I said:

“Of course, you’ll have to promote Pride jerseys and Pride fireworks nights, as a part of this position.”

Stunned silence.

I completely killed the vibe. Working in baseball used to just mean working in baseball. Silly me.

In the same vein, going to work at Target now means selling and marketing trans-positive swimwear, and the swimwear will also be sold and marketed to children. “Grim” doesn’t begin to describe it.

“I hear Target has already lost $9 billion over this,” explained one of my sons, in the car. He was probably wrong about the figure but that’s not the point. The point is, this is a real conversation being had by real people who aren’t in a “dystopian future” movie. It made me sort of sad to realize my kids are conversant in the Target non-binary swimwear controversy. I wish they could be kids a little while longer.

Even the National Hockey League threw its proverbial toque into the Pride Virtue Signaling ring, until it quickly realized that its players just wanted to play hockey and, by and large, its fans just wanted to watch hockey. Imagine that. We weren’t filing into Bridgestone Arena or firing up ESPN+ to see where the Vancouver Canucks fall on the issue of gay marriage.

We can rant and do old-mannish “remember when” stuff all day long (and believe me, I love doing this!), but the fact is that there are pragmatic reasons behind these companies feeling like they have to make these moves. One pragmatic reason might be the loaded gun of Progressive Social Media pointed at Said Company, waiting to pull the trigger if an appropriate (according to whom?) amount of virtue (again, according to whom?) isn’t signaled. 

But more likely, as in the case of Bud Light’s platforming of a trans TikTok influencer, the move pointed to a desire to reach younger audiences and thereby keep the historic and important Bud Light brand (sarcasm mine) alive for future generations to “enjoy.” We’ve come a long way from Bubba Smith ripping the top off a Miller Light can, or Bob Uecker arguing over whether the beer is “less filling” or “tastes great.”

The more difficult question in this, all morals aside, is the following: Does this kind of issues-driven virtue-signaling help or hurt brands? Or neither? I mean, are people going to drink Bud Light because it’s cheap and everywhere and will make them gradations less fat than drinking Bud heavies, or are they going to buy it and drink it because it affirms an elusive set of values that focus group as “important to young people”? I tend to fall on the side of “cheap and everywhere” which is kind of the same energy behind Target. People shop at Target because it is (relatively) cheap and everywhere … not necessarily because the products are any good or the values cohere with my values. But what happens, with Target and brands like it, when their values stand in direct opposition to my own?

What happens is a strange trickle-down calculus of virtue-signaling. You get the cool pastor posting the picture of himself at Target and talking about how much he loves it (subtext: I’m nice! I’m cool!). Or the conservative pastor’s blog post about how he’s boycotting Target (subtext: I’m mean but have principles!). You get lots of “Make It About Me” Olympians.

The fact of the matter is, I buy all of my cheap junk online because I don’t enjoy interacting with the General Public. Is this any more or less noble? Probably not. Do I wish Target would just go back to providing a cleaner and less-depressing shopping experience than Wal-Mart (which was their pre-controversy calling-card)? I do. Ultimately, Target is gambling on the Societal Shame Calculus working out in their favor, which is, in itself, depressing.

But the Bible isn’t ambiguous about what the world will think about us, and what we believe. None of this is terribly surprising. I Corinthians 1:18 reads, “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” My views, to the world, are literally foolish. I feel this in every conversation with every cool, woke pastor I encounter, or every sneering hipster in my place of employment. I am a fool to them. I’m not super bothered by it, because of Christ, but still.

However, I am resolute in believing that none of this is surprising to our sovereign Lord. And I am resolute in believing that my God (and my theology) is big enough to allow me to be kind to all (including members of every political affiliation and social category). I want the people I interact with to go away clear on what I believe, but also clear on my Christ-inspired kindness.

But I still miss baseball just being baseball.