Too Afraid to Speak Up

Coca-Cola had lost its voice, and we had to find it again.

Our ragtag global brand team moved out of the corporate towers in Atlanta to a skunkworks space over the road, thinking we might find it better there. And we did.

It was 2003, Coca-Cola had lost its iconic lustre and had retreated to just being a beverage that reminded people it tasted great. Together, we created “The Manifesto for the Revival of an Icon”. We were architecting the brand's right to speak about happiness, connection, and optimism in a world that desperately needed all three.

That manifesto would birth the "The Coke Side of Life" and "Open Happiness” campaigns that raised a voice for human joy, optimism and unity, and were the parents of great work since.

'Iconic' is a moniker too easily dispensed. It is not being infamous. It is not being notorious. It is not a feature, is a responsibility.

During those Atlanta sessions, we settled on a deceptively simple definition of an iconic brand as having a right to a point of view outside your category, and expressing it.

Not the same a being big and loud. You can be small and iconic. The key is the right to the point of view, and consistently defending it.

Coca-Cola wasn't just allowed to talk about refreshment; it could speak about unity. Nike wasn't limited to athletic performance; it could challenge social injustice. Dove wasn't confined to skin care; it could redefine beauty itself.

Today, as I watch Ben & Jerry's co-founder Jerry Greenfield resign after being "silenced" by Unilever, and Nike retreat into safe, beige messaging after their all too brief Kaepernick moment, I realise we're witnessing the demise of brand courage to be iconic.

Ben & Jerry’s was once the gold standard of values-led business. Jerry Greenfield has retired after nearly 50 years, accusing parent company Unilever of silencing the ice cream brand's social mission. This isn't just about ice cream or Middle East politics, it’s about whether brands can still have have souls in 2025. A brand built on social consciousness is being legally prevented from having a conscience. The very uniqueness that justified its premium acquisition price is now deemed too risky to express.

We've moved from managing occasional controversies to operating in permanent defense mode.

But here's what we didn't anticipate: the death of the middle ground. Social movements take off, more often, due to a perfect storm of circumstances. Several things occur at the same time and generate the motion to drive a cause forward. Today, that perfect storm happens every day, on every platform, about every decision.

Nike's Kaepernick campaign should have been the template for brand courage. Sales rose, however, with the company reporting a 10 percent jump in income, driven primarily by strong revenue growth. The campaign worked commercially, resonated with their core audience, and stood for something meaningful.

Yet instead of inspiring a wave of brand activism, it became a cautionary tale. Why? Because the backlash was visceral. Tweeting #NikeBoycott, some people were saying they were going to burn their Nike sneakers or cut the swoosh logo off their socks. The visual of red state dads burning shoes became more powerful than the sales figures.

People need to believe in something beyond themselves. To have faith, if you like. When governments are failing, when religions fracture, and institutions crumble, that need doesn't disappear, it intensifies. It leaves a lot of space for celebrity, and now with the platforms that so easily enable that, regrettably they have found their pulpit.

Twenty years ago, brands too stepped into that vacuum opened by formerly iconic institutions of trust. They gave people something to rally around that transcended politics.

Today? Brands need to start getting comfortable again with the fact that the culture wars may pull you in. But instead of engaging, they're retreating. American Eagle's recent campaign with Sydney Sweeney faced backlash over supposedly "coded" language. Cracker Barrel's rebrand attempt lasted exactly 48 hours before public pressure forced a reversal.

Controversial take, perhaps. The data is clear: nearly 6 in 10 feel the same about the impact to their company's brand, that cancel culture threats don't materially impact business (Forrester). The fear is disproportionate to the actual risk. CMOs are using "cancel culture" as cover for lack of conviction.

You cannot please all tribes. The attempt to do so creates what I call "beige brands”: offensive to no one, inspiring to no one, memorable to no one. Pick your truth and own it.

In hyper-polarised markets, saying nothing says everything. Consumers interpret neutrality as complicity, moderation as cowardice, and silence as agreement with whoever they oppose.

In this time when the world feels more divided than ever before, how will history judge you and your brand? Icons have not just an opportunity, but a responsibility. Because while CMOs hide behind focus groups and sentiment analysis, a generation of consumers is desperately searching for something real to believe in.

The brands that answer that call won't just survive the culture wars. They'll transcend them.

1. Audit Your Cowardice: List every campaign killed by fear in the last 12 months. Calculate the opportunity cost of beige.

2. Define Your Non-Negotiables: What would your brand die for? If you can't answer, you're not iconic, you’re just big.

3. Stress-Test Your Convictions: Run crisis simulations for taking real stands. Build muscle memory for courage.

4. Measure What Matters: Track passion metrics alongside sentiment. Indifference is more dangerous than controversy.

5. Accept the Arithmetic: You will lose some customers. The question is whether you'll inspire others more than you alienate the few.

We've created a world where Unilever silences Ben & Jerry's social mission, where Nike retreats after commercial success, and where Cracker Barrel can't even update a logo without political warfare.

The saddest part? The world still needs icons. People still crave meaning. The vacuum still exists.

The brands brave enough to fill it won't just win markets. They'll matter.

Brandflow is written by Justin Billingsley, who has spent his career on all three sides of the industry's table: senior client, global agency leader, technology founder. First published 22 September 2025 in the Brandflow newsletter on LinkedIn.