Let’s embark on a journey of discovery. A fact-finding mission, if you will. Together, we seek to answer the not-so-simple question: “Who owns organic?”
I already know the answer because I wrote this. Then again, it’s an easy guess. I refer to the usual rogue’s gallery of malfeasance-y food corporations getting up to their usual shenanigans.
I do not mean to say that organic brands owned by major corporations are not organic. The USDA Organic Seal must mean something, after all. (If you’re not sure what the label means, the USDA explains it all in ten easy paragraphs here.) I am not talking about corporations skirting around USDA Organic standards, however confusing or low those standards may be. I am talking about the cognitive dissonance one might feel upon returning from a trip to Whole Foods with two totes full of your favorite organic foods—for which you spent even more than your most recent contribution to your daughter’s rapidly dwindling 529 Vanguard account—only to come across a snarky blog post telling you that some of those organic snacks you’re looking forward to digging into are owned by the same companies behind Mountain Due Voltage or Teriyaki Spam. The label on your beloved organic snack says USDA Organic, so sure, it’s organic. Which is good. But the organic brand is owned by a big corporation that does big bad things to the planet and its people. Which is bad.
Readers, I’m talking about marketing. I’m talking about the shade of it all.
So let’s begin. Here I present a smattering of info from the Cornucopia Institute’s infographic, “Who Owns Organic?”
Who owns Pure Leaf Tea?
In a quote from their “Sustainability” page, Pure Leaf explains: “We work tirelessly to lessen the impact we have on the environment. From planting native trees to utilizing hydro-electric power, our growers are committed to better tea and a better future for our planet.”
More importantly, Pure Leaf has embarked on an exciting partnership with Lindsay Lohan herself to “make Tea Breaks happen!” (This post is not the time or place to delve into the Tea Breaks partnership with La Lohan, but if you enjoy inane marketing strategies, the Pure Leaf Tea Breaks thing is gold. Best of all is the Avatar-adjacent font, which calls to mind this poor guy.)
Back to the matter at hand, PepsiCo owns this “pure” and “sustainable” brand of tea. (Was a class action lawsuit filed over Pure Leaf’s “all natural” claims? Yes. Was the suit dismissed by a judge who found that “a reasonable consumer would not be deceived by the labels”? Yes. Does anything mean anything anymore? Read on.)
Who owns Honest Tea?
Honest Tea is not to be confused with Honest Organic, provider of “premium organic teas, lemonade, juices, kids drinks and yerba mate tea,” or with The Honest Company, which was founded by Jessica Alba (aka down on her luck dancer/choreographer Honey Daniels in the underrated classic, Honey).
In any case, this is a trick question. Coca Cola purchased Honest Tea in 2011 but discontinued the brand a decade later as part of a new strategy they called “Fewer, Bigger Bets,” in which Coke would (you guessed it) make fewer, but bigger, bets on acquisitions. No worries, though! Coca Cola is still in the “honest” game with their own Honest Organic brand, as previously noted a provider of honest premium organic teas. And the guy who launched Honest Tea says that Coca Cola’s fumble with his company turned into an unexpected gift for him. Also, Coco Cola has nothing to do with Jessica Alba’s Honest Company, or with Jessica Alba, who shined in her breakthrough role as a genetically enhanced super soldier in the early-aughts Fox series Dark Angel). So suck it, Coke.
Who owns Nature Raised Farms?
Nature Raised Farms is committed to raising chicken right, “Because chicken raised right, simply tastes delicious.” Point taken, but the comma is upsetting. In the pursuit of raising chicken right, Nature Raised Farms claims to work with independent farmers. But Nature Raised Farms is really Tyson Foods, so I remain dubious. If my husband came home with a chicken from Tyson Foods, I would call his mother and tell on him. Susan would not be pleased. We all know what Tyson Foods (and other mega-meat-packers) get up to out at their “plants.” Allegedly, the folks at Tyson Foods don’t even buy their own bs, so imo, neither should we.
Who owns Justin’s?
This is a bit of a bummer. I love these peanut butter cups. But I do not love Hormel Corp., which acquired Justin’s in 2016 for a sweet 286 million. If you care to see the absolute Janus-faced baloney of “Organic” branding at work, go check out “Our Story” on the Justin’s website. We learn how Justin Gold, founder of Justin’s, started making nut butters in his kitchen, sourcing only the best ingredients he could get his hands on. “I wanted to make something just right for fueling my fast-moving, adventure-filled days,” explains Justin, at length. As you click, and click, and click, through the story, you travel from “The Early Years” all the way to “Retail Success.” Since I first sat down to write this snazzy little blog post, the website has undergone a bit of work.* A year-by-year timeline of the company was removed, but I’m still mentioning it here because I want to call out the fact that it just so happened to skip over 2016, the year that Justin Gold sold Justin’s to Hormel. Okay, Justin!
*I learned some things on Justin’s revised website that would be churlish not to mention here. Hormel or no Hormel, Justin’s claims to hold itself to standards that go well beyond the typical “non-GMO” bandwagon, including commitments on the use of certified sustainable palm oil, low-waste packaging, and several other important issues. I also want to mention what looks like their solid stance on helping pollinator conservation. If you like, you can check out their mission yourself. It looks great, it really does. But in what ways does Justin’s lofty standards as an organic brand benefit Hormel, a multinational food processing company? I don’t know the answer, but I do know that multinational food processing companies are not our friends, so I don’t like that Justin’s is owned by Hormel. I’m irked. I want a peanut butter cup.
Who owns Dagoba Chocolate?
Dagoba Chocolate is not to be confused with Dagoba, the French thrash metal band, or Dagoba, the fictional Star Wars planet. Dagoba Chocolate is also not to be confused with something you can get at the store. Hershey bought the brand in 2006, but then sold it in 2021 to focus their efforts on salty snacks and nutrition bars. (I’m craving a salty snack as I write, so perhaps this was a wise choice).
Compared to your Kellogg’s, your Campbells, your General Mills (each of which owns multiple subsidiary “organic brands”), Hershey is a bit player on this list. I included it simply so I could slip in a reference to Dagoba, the French thrash metal band, and gift you dear people with a listen to “The Things Within,” the final track off their 2005 album What Hell Is About. For the irked and the aggravated, their sound is refreshingly bracing.
So. Who owns organic?
Food corporations own “Organic.” It is marketing. It is divorced from meaning. It is, in sarcasm quotes, pure and honest. Bare and natural. Healthy and green. “Organic” is represented by seeds and plants, fields and farms, valleys and mountains, our own sweet earth, the soil and the sphere. But there is “Organic,” and there is, simply, organic. The former claims to be, the latter is. Nobody owns organic. It belongs to us, and we deserve it.
Images from iStock/kraphix (main), jacoblund (woman gardening), JackF (man reading the label).
