In 1977, two friends — one a failed potter, the other with a stack of rejection letters from medical schools — decided to go into business together. They realised the high costs of setting up a bagel shop and pivoted to selling ice cream, crepes and soups. In a renovated petrol pump, they set up the first parlour of what went on to become the multinational ice-cream brand, Ben & Jerry’s. That simple start sits at the heart of their operation to this date. On September 17, Jerry Greenfield resigned from the company over being “silenced” by their parent company, Unilever, saying, “Love, equity, justice — they’re part of who Ben and I are, and they’ve always been the foundation of Ben & Jerry’s.”
In 2021, B&J’s independent board sued Unilever over the renewal of an entrepreneur’s license to sell B&J’s in areas of Israeli-occupied West Bank. Since then, tensions have escalated. But, as they made sure with a deal guaranteeing their independence at the time of acquisition, for Ben Cohen and Greenfield, “it was always about more than just ice cream”. They have extended support to movements aimed at racial justice, LGBTQ+ rights, climate justice — and given away part of their profits to such causes. The founders are trying to find a way to buy the company back.
Today, the single-minded pursuit of profit is often accepted as the norm. Ben & Jerry’s model is proof that it is possible to measure a business’s performance against both financial gain and social impact. Some companies do see that the balance sheet does not have to make up the whole picture: In India, leather-goods company Hidesign, in July, made a public statement against Israel’s killing of children in Gaza. “That’s not how things work in the real world,” is the first line of defence against any challenge to the status quo. Ben & Jerry’s and Ben and Jerry have, for long, led the way in showing that the “real world” is what we make it.