Behind Coca-Cola’s ties to NAACP
by: Fernando Quintero
posted on Monday, February 04, 2013
A few months ago, I wrote from a personal perspective a blog about the National Association of Hispanic Journalists accepting $100,000 from PepsiCo.
As a former journalist and board member of the organization and now a public health professional, I was disappointed to see that such an influential organization of color had once again succumbed to the lure of financial backing from a multinational corporation that has targeted and disproportionately sickened the community it purports to support through such philanthropic gestures.
My intent was to point out the parallels between Big Soda and Big Tobacco and how they have both targeted communities of color and used philanthropy and corporate social responsibility campaigns to sell harmful products (in my blog I reminisced about being on the board in the mid-1980s when we debated whether we should accept money from Philip Morris). This comparison was the recent focus of a BMSG study that pointed out how these soda campaigns echo tobacco industry’s tactics.
But it was also brought to my attention by one of my public health colleagues that we should acknowledge that Big Soda sponsorship is an issue for all advocacy organizations, and we should not just single out organizations of color as having an ethics problem — especially given that these same groups are some of the most under-resourced groups with organizational missions that are critical to continuing ethnic and racial justice efforts.
This same point recently surfaced when Center for Science in the Public Interest Executive Director Michael Jacobson sent a statement criticizing NAACP for accepting money from Coca-Cola and calling for the civil rights organization to return the money.
It’s easy to point to the recipients of these gifts from Big Soda and blame or shame them for taking dirty money. But dig a little deeper and you will find a complicated relationship between Coca-Cola and Pepsi and communities of color — one that makes “just say no” too simplistic.
In this debate, a colleague brought up the important historical context in which this transaction occurred: Organizations representing communities of color — particularly African-Americans and Latinos — have been receiving support from food and beverage companies for more than a half century.
These relationships are so intertwined that African-Americans have viewed their educational, economic and social progress in this nation as being partially a result of the support they have received from these companies, wrote noted policy scholar and public health advocate Maya Rockeymoore in a public health email group I belong to.
“From their perspective, to ask them to reject the dollars is likely untenable from a budgetary perspective, even if it’s morally justifiable. So, we must ask ourselves, what is the ultimate goal? If the goal is to reduce soda consumption in communities of color, is it wise to alienate the very organizations that serve as the gateway to these communities? That sets up an either/or, us vs. them dynamic that hardens positions and hearts. Thus negating (or at least making more difficult) the ability to achieve the ultimate goal,” said Rockeymoore.
I agree with Rockeymoore, and have been inspired by the thoughtful words of other colleagues, like Ana Garcia, deputy director of Health Policy for The New York Academy of Medicine:
“I think the burden is on us in public health to more forcefully/effectively articulate why accepting money from soda is like accepting money from the gun or tobacco industry. Shaming the recipients is one awareness-raising tactic, but when the recipients are community organizations and organizations representing populations that have historically been discriminated against, I think we need to pause. As Rockeymoore points out, history matters. And we are potentially making enemies where, for the long-term health of the population, we desperately need to be making friends,” Garcia said.
So, from the perspective of communities of color, access to and attention from these companies has represented opportunity, inclusion and an investment in our futures. Because of this historical context, public health advocates need to be more savvy and culturally sensitive in their approach to educating communities of color about the health dangers of sugary beverages.
As Rockeymoore noted, coming out screaming “don’t take money from soda” can be construed as short-sighted, lacking historical context and paternalistic. Instead, she said, we should work toward changing the frame of this conversation by reframing the definition of opportunity and inclusion; encourage organizations representing vulnerable communities to become more assertive in their relationships with food and beverage companies by being more upfront about promoting healthier products; encourage communities of color to be more savvy consumers; and encourage these communities to become more discerning about the influence of corporate marketing tactics.
Or, as BMSG director Lori Dorfman put it, “Let’s keep our sights on Coke.”
I, for one, am disgusted by how Big Soda, the tobacco industry and other companies have historically exploited and co-opted our organizations of color, our culture and our heroes to target our communities with their poisonous products.
From Duke Ellington and Michael Jackson back then to Beyoncé and Sofia Vergara today, Big Soda has used our most popular and influential figures to get us to drink our way to disease. They use pricing strategies in our low-income communities to make soda cheaper than water. And they fund our most venerable organizations with claims of investing in our communities’ futures.
The truth is, they’re destroying our communities’ futures, one 20-ounce bottle at time.