Frédéric Mas: It seems to me that Evian’s communication blunder stemmed from a misjudgment of its target audience. In responding to hostile reactions accusing it of trying to undermine Ramadan, Evian triggered a completely unexpected storm of identity-based controversy on social media. Evian’s message was innocuous, but identity-based passions seized upon it, injecting communal and victimhood-based considerations that were quite far removed from the intentions of the company, which found itself on public trial.

Evian’s apology only made matters worse, but this time by mobilizing audiences who oppose the rise of Islam in society. Instead of tailoring its message to appeal to both Muslim and non-Muslim audiences, Evian ended up alienating both groups. The divide is too deep for even «soft diplomacy» to mitigate its impact.

Today, anything can serve as a pretext for the spread of identity-based and victim-centered discourse on social media: the political, ideological, and social divides found in politics are now also evident in the world of everyday consumption. It is becoming increasingly difficult to convey a single message to a society that is now fragmented into «archipelagos,» to borrow the term coined by political scientist Jérôme Fourquet.

However, we are not yet at the level of what is happening today in the United States, where a large number of major corporations—such as Coca-Cola—have chosen to embrace the cause of minorities to the point of supporting its racialized rhetoric. In France, there is still a shared universalist culture which, while it does not make “woke” discourse impossible in the corporate world, enables us to maintain a critical distance from it and question it.

Large companies whose purpose is to manufacture products and provide services are becoming increasingly involved in broad social issues. Is there a risk that when capitalism is overwhelmed by social sensitivities, it will disrupt our democratic debates? Through what mechanisms do these companies come to address such issues?

In other words, is «wokism»—the new ideology championed by the identity-based left—compatible with consumer society? It seems to me that this is a risky gamble on the part of the business world, because it underestimates wokism’s revolutionary potential. This ideology is, by its very nature, anti-liberal and anti-capitalist, and reflects the crisis facing Western universities. Indeed, its spread into the world of large corporations and government agencies in the United States could never have happened without its relatively recent triumph on college campuses.

In a recent essay (*Cynical Theories*, Pitchstone Publishing, 2020), Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay argue that “woke” ideology has established itself as the new orthodoxy in the humanities at the leading universities in the English-speaking world. This undisputed dominance is less than 10 years old, but it has replaced the old liberal education system based on meritocracy. The first generation educated in “wokism” is now entering the workforce, filling positions particularly in government agencies and large corporations. It is only natural that they apply what they have learned from the ayatollahs of postmodernism to their professional lives.

It seems to me, in fact, that this triumph of “wokism” in universities—which, through a spillover effect, also influences corporate culture and government agencies—should be interpreted as a genuine political revolt against meritocracy. The competition that reigns in top universities for access to the best positions, degrees, and the most highly valued social status is ruthless. It is relatively anonymous, rewards only a few individuals, and creates a great deal of frustration and resentment, as Michael Sandel points out in *The Tyranny of Merit* (Albin Michel, 2021).

In an attempt to «include» everyone in social success, some will seek to break the rules of selection and «redistribute» dignity based on less demanding cultural criteria. Political pressure from the mediocre is being organized against the selective pressure of the cognitive elite. Let’s not forget that wokism also thrives on its anti-elitism and has a complicated relationship with science.

What problem does this pose when the cause is a noble one? Must companies choose to remain neutral in order to ensure their long-term survival?

To whom is their own cause not just? When Google fired James Damore in 2018 for a report deemed sexist because it criticized the company’s diversity policy, when Coca-Cola offers its executives anti-racism training that asks them to be «less white ,» or when Ben & Jerry’s commits to supporting migrants or Black Lives Matter, they all believe they are championing worthy causes.

This «culturalist» approach to entrepreneurship—which involves not only selling a product but also promoting a strong social message to support it—is a double-edged sword: it targets a niche audience and can create division, or even «bad buzz.».

This is true for Evian in France, but also for Coca-Cola in the United States. "Woke" racialism hasn’t yet fully become the norm and still provokes strong reactions from consumers who don’t want to see propaganda—whether good or bad—on their yogurt containers or their cat’s food.

The main problem arises when «woke» companies hold a dominant position in their markets and can impose their preferences on consumers who aren’t asking for that much. Today, the GAFA companies—and, more broadly, the companies that are the driving forces behind our current model of innovation-driven capitalism—are steeped in “wokism.” As I mentioned earlier, the social elites who have attended the most selective universities are now shaped by the ideology of diversity and identity politics.

The convergence of economic power, social prestige, and political influence makes the Silicon Valley giants a force in their own right, capable of influencing public policy decisions. This was evident in the debates that followed Donald Trump’s suspension from Twitter, as well as in the protests by some consumers against social media moderation policies, which they deemed biased and even hostile to «right-wing» views.

Here, the best way to guard against the dangers of corporate «progressivism» is still to ensure free markets and encourage competition. If a product doesn’t suit you because you don’t like the message it conveys or because the CEO’s views annoy you, you should be able to find another product on the market that better meets your needs.

This means penalizing the anti-competitive practices of large companies that can manipulate regulations to promote their products at the expense of their competitors’ products, but it also means putting the government in its place.

On this last point, I think it’s worth noting that the growth and activism of the U.S. federal government have played a major role in spreading the ideology of diversity and instilling it in civil society. In his book *The Age of Entitlement* (Simon & Schuster, 2020), Christopher Caldwell identifies the civil rights movement of the 1960s as the catalyst for the shift from a neutral government to a partisan one.

It began by promoting the just cause of racial equality, but over the years it has transformed into a massive social, legal, and regulatory machine aimed at «pushing» minorities forward politically, socially, and economically. This has come at the expense not only of the majority but also of freedom of association, free enterprise, and even the neutrality of public decision-making. Capitalism in the United States is therefore not entirely free of political influence. Constrained by successive layers of regulations aimed at promoting diversity, it will only be truly free when the influence of the state diminishes.