Say Something Real
The Power of Economic Boycotts in the Fight for Equity
By Michelle Bryant

Michelle Bryant
In recent months, a growing chorus of voices has called for economic boycotts of major corporations that have scaled back or abandoned their Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. These rollbacks, in response to short-sighted systemic racism-deniers, are often justified under the guise of “neutrality” or “efficiency.” They are seen by many in our community as a betrayal of the commitments these companies made in the wake of the 2020 racial justice uprisings and the murder of George Floyd. The call for us to leverage our collective economic power, to demand respect, representation, equity, and yes, corporate accountability, is long overdue but not unfamiliar territory.
The history of boycotts in the Black community is long and storied, rooted in resistance and resilience. We have always understood the power of our dollars. For example, in 1853, free Black Americans in New York organized a boycott of segregated streetcars. Led by figures like Frederick Douglass, this campaign was a bold assertion of dignity and a refusal to accept second-class treatment. Though it took decades for full desegregation to occur, that boycott laid the groundwork for future economic activism.
The Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955-1956 is perhaps the most iconic example of the power of collective action. For 381 days, Black residents of Montgomery, Alabama, refused to ride the city’s buses, protesting racial segregation. Other notable African-American boycotts include the Baton Rouge Bus Boycott, which was the first large-scale boycott of a segregated bus system in the South in 1953. It was the inspiration for the Montgomery Bus Boycott. There were also the Birmingham and Greenwood, MS, boycotts, which included a boycott of businesses that hired only white people and a 20-month boycott that led to legal changes in the city’s hiring practices, respectively. There were others, some of which worked and others that fell short. In victory or failure, our ancestors realized that they had an ability to respond to systemic inequity.
Today, the economic muscle of African Americans is undeniable. With a collective buying power of roughly $1.7 trillion, Black consumers are a force to be reckoned with. Yet, historically, corporations have taken our dollars while failing to invest in our communities. We had been denied employment, advancement, and equitable pay. Floyd’s death cast a bright light on inequity, privilege, and how it differs across racial lines. Promises were made by many corporations to address these issues. Those promises have been short-lived, broken, or ignored. Those actions have fueled the current calls for boycotts.
The effectiveness of boycotts lies in their ability to hit corporations where it hurts—their bottom line. History has shown that when we withhold our spending, companies and systems change. Whether the divestment campaigns against apartheid South Africa or recent efforts by Rev. Al Sharpton to pursue a buy-cott, which supports businesses like Costco that has stood up to pressure to remove diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives, we have learned that economics is an effective tool.
As we navigate this moment, it’s important to remember that boycotts are not just acts of protest—they are acts of empowerment and about building solidarity. Allies have a critical role to play in amplifying these efforts. When non-Black consumers join in boycotts, they send a powerful message that equity is not just a Black issue—it’s a human issue. However, if no one else shows up and we must go it alone, then go we shall. No Justice, No Peace. Or, in this case, No Money!