Skipping Trader Joe’s Won’t End a Genocide

The view from a shopping cart entering a brightly lit aisle of a supermarket. Colorful products line the shelves.

I recently mentioned to a friend how great it is that Trader Joe’s is right across the street from the Spanish class I attend every Saturday. I can run into the store after class and buy tasty treats and cheap skin care products. She said, “Just so you know, Trader Joe’s supports Israel.” 

That gave me pause. 

I oppose the Israeli government’s ongoing occupation of Palestine and the current genocide in Gaza. I don’t want to support any government that rules through fear and oppression, including my own. But I also didn’t understand what it meant for Trader Joe’s to “support Israel.” Are they funding the Israeli Defense Forces? Lobbying Congress to protect military aid? Or is it something vaguer, like carrying products made in Israel?

I did some research. Trader Joe’s has been criticized for a few reasons: union busting, poor treatment of employees, and yes, carrying Israeli-made goods. Some people boycott them for those reasons.

But here’s the thing: I’m not opposed to Israeli businesses by default. I’m opposed to the oppressive policies of the Israeli government. Targeting an Israeli snack company feels like trying to cut off military aid with a butter knife. Even if boycotts cause some economic pressure, the Israeli government isn’t pivoting policy because Trader Joe’s stopped selling feta cheese.

As part of my research, I also looked at the impact of boycotts on Trader Joe’s. Most reporting shows that while public outrage can cause temporary dips in reputation, these companies bounce back. There aren’t enough alternatives and most people who pledge to boycott don’t stick with it. One research summary said it best: “Impact on long-term corporate profitability or systemic change is often limited, and individual actions rarely substitute for broader policy or regulatory shifts.” 

As a strategic communicator, most of my time is spent thinking through the many options organizations have for communicating with their supporters and deciding which have the potential to move an organization closer to its goals. Not all communication opportunities have the same impact. And impact is what matters. 

Boycotts without strategic organizing are often little more than consumer-based virtue signaling. They give us the illusion of action without the impact. We swap stores or skip a brand, and in return, we get to feel like we’ve done something meaningful. 

To be clear: I’m not against consumer activism. I believe that how we spend our money matters. I also think it’s personally important to ensure your values influence even your most mundane choices. 

But boycotts only work when they’re rooted in organized and accountable collective action. Historical boycotts succeeded when they were strategic, sustained, and backed by a web of relationships. If you crossed the picket line or violated the boycott, your community held you accountable.

What we have now are mostly disorganized, decentralized pledges involving lots of people but no accountability or staying power. The internet can amplify calls to boycott, but it can’t enforce them. It also doesn’t ensure political education, relationship-building, or coordinated and sustained action—the things that build power.

If we really want to end genocide, prioritize people over corporations, or protect our country from fascism, we must recognize that participating in vague, social media-coordinated activism is easy, but not effective at driving the changes we need. 

Organizing, on the other hand, is hard. Building meaningful relationships is hard, especially with people who may not agree with us. But organizing works—it is the only thing that has ever worked. 

I’m angry about Gaza, the government defunding life-saving programs at USAID, and the backlash against movements for racial equity, and yet, I’m embarrassed to say that I haven’t done anything besides express my anger to friends, colleagues, and family members. 

I wish it was as easy as avoiding Trader Joe’s, but this is likely to be ineffective. And we can’t afford to be ineffective. Everyone, like me, who feels powerless right now needs to study the history of movements that won and listen to the advice of people who were part of them. 

Then, we must commit—not just to changing what’s in our carts, but to changing ourselves, and how we show up. I can’t tell you what to do; deciding how you spend your energy depends on where you live, your strengths, and what you are passionate about. But you and I need to do something, and luckily there is no shortage of options. Join an activist group. Fund grassroots organizers. Build relationships with those who align with our beliefs and those who only agree with us on a few issues. 

Power lies in numbers—organized, strategic numbers. We’re not powerless when we act together. 

About The Author

Sara Veltkamp

Sara Veltkamp

Vice President

Sara lives in Chicago, Illinois and is Minerva's vice president. She takes a lead role in all aspects of Minerva Strategies’ smart communication strategies and implementation. She loves a challenge and is obsessed with learning new things, from how to use new platforms and tools for storytelling to languages like Amharic, French, or Farsi to mastering a difficult yoga pose. She applies this energy and curiosity to all clients’ communication challenges. Learn more about Sara.