
Just five years ago, ‘purpose’ was marketing’s golden child. Every agency pitched it, every CMO championed it and every brand rushed to define theirs. Today, that same word can clear a boardroom faster than a fire alarm. The transformation has been swift and brutal.
Purpose-driven marketing hasn’t just fallen from grace – it’s become a minefield to be navigated with a level of caution typically reserved for hostile takeovers.
What began as a genuine movement to align business objectives with social good has devolved into a polarising battleground where brands find themselves caught between activists who demand more action and critics who demand less preaching. As a result, marketing departments have become paralysed by indecision, afraid that any stance, or lack thereof, will trigger a backlash.
The rise and fall of purpose
The purpose economy emerged from genuine consumer demand. Studies showed millennials and gen-Z consumers prefer brands that stand for something beyond profit. Companies such as Patagonia, Stonyfield Farm and Ben & Jerry’s proved that authentic purpose could drive both social impact and business growth. Purpose wasn’t just nice to have – it was positioned as essential for long-term success.
But the cracks in this narrative are now impossible to ignore. Just last month, Jerry Greenfield resigned from Ben & Jerry’s after 47 years, declaring that Unilever had “silenced” the brand on social issues. The ice cream maker that once epitomised successful purpose-driven business now exemplifies the impossible tension between corporate ownership and authentic activism. When even Ben & Jerry’s can’t maintain its values under corporate pressure, what hope do other brands have?
This collapse accelerated during the pandemic, with brands rushing to demonstrate social consciousness through hastily crafted campaigns that sounded hollow. Black squares on Instagram, rainbow logos in June and vague commitments to “doing better” became the empty calories of corporate communication.
The backlash was inevitable. Consumers grew sceptical of so-called woke-washing, superficial gestures masquerading as genuine commitment. Meanwhile, a parallel critique emerged from those who believed corporations should focus on their products and services rather than social causes. Bud Light’s partnership with the trans influencer Dylan Mulvaney and Disney’s stance on Florida legislation to limit education on sexual orientation and gender identity became cautionary tales, demonstrating how purpose-driven decisions could alienate core customers and tank stock prices.
A political tightrope
Marketers face a dilemma. Younger consumers still expect brands to take stands on social issues, while others view corporate activism as little more than virtue signalling or worse – ideological overreach. The middle ground has evaporated, leaving brands to choose between equally treacherous paths.
This polarisation has transformed purpose from a strategic differentiator into a political liability. The Ben & Jerry’s saga illustrates this perfectly. The brand has been embroiled in lawsuits with Unilever since 2021 over its stance on Palestinian territories, with the parent company claiming the ice cream maker’s positions have resulted in boycotts, divestments and even a fatwa. What was once celebrated as brave corporate citizenship is now treated as brand sabotage.
Marketing teams now require crisis management for initiatives that would have been universally applauded just years ago. Sustainability commitments are frequently called greenwashing, for instance, while diversity initiatives are perceived as tokenism on one side and reverse discrimination on the other. Even seemingly innocuous charity partnerships undergo political vetting to avoid unexpected controversies.
Can businesses really support purpose?
For brands trying to chart a course through these turbulent waters, the challenge isn’t just about choosing sides, it’s about finding a sustainable approach that serves both business objectives and stakeholder expectations. Some brands have retreated entirely, adopting what industry insiders call ‘purpose neutrality’. Others, such as Greenfield and his co-founder Ben Cohen, are calling for complete independence, arguing that corporate structures are fundamentally incompatible with authentic purpose.
The reality for most lies somewhere in between. They can’t all become B Corps, but neither can they abandon some form of social impact entirely without losing relevance with key demographics. The smartest companies are developing sophisticated frameworks for purpose-driven decisions. They’re distinguishing between core values that define their business and peripheral causes that might generate headlines but lack an authentic connection to their brand.
This recalibration requires brutal honesty about what purpose actually means for a brand and whether corporate structures can truly support it. Is environmental sustainability core to your supply chain, or just a marketing message? Does diversity genuinely improve your product development, or is it simply good optics? When Jerry Greenfield says Ben & Jerry’s lost its independence, he’s articulating what many brand leaders fear but won’t say publicly: the corporate imperative for profit inevitably suffocates purpose.
Intent versus purpose
Purpose isn’t dead, but the era of easy wins certainly is. The future belongs to brands that can demonstrate genuine commitment without preaching, create positive impact without alienating stakeholders and maintain authentic values without becoming political lightning rods.
The key is to emphasise intent rather than purpose. It’s a subtle but crucial shift, which means focusing on deliberate action rather than moral positioning. It means clear vision, strategic decision-making and measurable outcomes without the political baggage that “purpose” now carries. Intent suggests focus and determination without requiring brands to take sides in culture wars or make grand social pronouncements. It’s about being purposeful in action rather than purpose-driven in rhetoric. Brands can still create positive outcomes, support their communities and operate sustainably, but they will do so through intentional business practices rather than activism.
For brands struggling with these dynamics, the answer isn’t to abandon their values entirely but to reframe them through the lens of intentionality. Focus on operational excellence that creates positive outcomes. Invest deliberately in areas where your business naturally creates impact. Support initiatives that genuinely connect to your business model. And, perhaps most importantly, recognise that in today’s fractured landscape, trying to please everyone guarantees you’ll inspire no one.
The politics around purpose aren’t disappearing. Brands that navigate them thoughtfully, with genuine intent, strategic focus and political awareness, will find that values still have power. They just require more courage and perhaps more subtlety to wield effectively. Purpose itself isn’t the problem; the hollow, performative version of it that consumers have learned to distrust is. Intent, by contrast, promises action without activism, conviction without controversy and direction without division.
Daniel Binns is the global CEO at Elmwood, a brand consultancy.

Just five years ago, ‘purpose’ was marketing's golden child. Every agency pitched it, every CMO championed it and every brand rushed to define theirs. Today, that same word can clear a boardroom faster than a fire alarm. The transformation has been swift and brutal.
Purpose-driven marketing hasn't just fallen from grace – it's become a minefield to be navigated with a level of caution typically reserved for hostile takeovers.
What began as a genuine movement to align business objectives with social good has devolved into a polarising battleground where brands find themselves caught between activists who demand more action and critics who demand less preaching. As a result, marketing departments have become paralysed by indecision, afraid that any stance, or lack thereof, will trigger a backlash.