Written by Caleb Peterson.
Well, folks, Swanson has officially thrown its hat into the “woke” ring with their latest culinary masterpiece: the Hungry They/Them TV dinner. That’s right, now you can gobble down meatloaf while affirming your identity – because nothing says progress like pre-packaged gravy and mashed potatoes designed to cater to every possible pronoun. Swanson, the once simple brand that kept us warm in the 70s with no-fuss meals, has clearly decided that the problem with TV dinners all along was a lack of pronoun diversity.
The packaging is an eye-popping rainbow, plastered with a happy little They/Them logo that even has a wink of gender neutrality, and the slogan “Satisfy Your True Self” slapped on the box. For Swanson, this marks a brave new chapter, one where hungry customers can finally be liberated from the oppressive “he/him” or “she/her” food options. Because, obviously, the turkey dinner couldn’t just be turkey – it had to represent an entire spectrum of non-binary munching, because…equality.
And what’s in the box, you might wonder? Swanson promises the same classic ingredients, just with a sprinkle of socially conscious labels. The peas, corn, and processed protein remain intact, as does that ever-soggy brownie, but now you can eat them while feeling virtuous about dismantling gender norms. Bon appétit!
Side of Sarcasm with That? Swanson’s Questionable Leap into Woke Branding
For a company that’s been frozen in time – quite literally – Swanson has chosen a curious way to get with the times. Gone are the days of simply enjoying your Salisbury steak in peace. Now, with Hungry They/Them, we are encouraged to question why our prepackaged meal options haven’t reflected our identities. After all, who among us hasn’t pondered gender inclusivity while waiting for their microwave to ding?
Swanson even released a press statement declaring their “commitment to diverse representation” and that “food should reflect who we are.” Apparently, what we all needed was a frozen meal brand to help us “feel seen,” because nothing spells empowerment like a compartmentalized dinner and lukewarm mac ‘n’ cheese. The ad campaign, of course, is as predictably cringeworthy as it sounds, featuring millennials posing with their TV dinners, gazing thoughtfully into the microwave as though it’s a mirror of their souls.
Some consumers may scratch their heads, wondering why a company known for its basic, dependable dinners is now trying to be a cultural tastemaker. But in 2024, nothing surprises anyone anymore, not even if Chef Boyardee starts offering Spaghetti “Xe/Xir” cans or if Gorton’s Fisherman trades his raincoat for a rainbow poncho.
Does Swanson Think Millennials and Gen Zers Can’t Make Real Food?
Let’s pause and consider the irony. Swanson’s new product implies that the youngest, most socially conscious generations, brimming with culinary ambitions, are somehow still reliant on TV dinners to keep themselves fed. Not a stir-fry, not even a cheap takeout – but a TV dinner. Swanson must truly believe in the power of a microwavable brownie to unite us, or at least that we’re too lazy to cook for ourselves, gender-fluid or otherwise.
This launch also raises the question of whether Swanson thinks it’s creating a world-changing product. Are millennials and Gen Zers really desperate for their dinners to reflect their pronouns? And while we’re at it, is Hungry They/Them the revolutionary step forward we’ve all been waiting for? If identity politics has now fully invaded the freezer aisle, it may be time to consider if we’re taking things a bit too far.
Let’s be real, though: Swanson isn’t trying to foster some groundbreaking social revolution. They’re banking on one thing and one thing only – profit. And what better way to profit than by slapping a trendy label on a tray of unremarkable frozen foods? Forget the humble era of Hungry Man; welcome to the dawn of Hungry They/Them, where identity is pre-heated and served with a side of irony.
Our Take
In the quest for inclusivity, it seems we’ve lost sight of what really matters – a hot meal that tastes decent, without being smothered in the sauce of cultural pandering. While Swanson’s move might make waves on social media, it’s hard to see this as anything more than an empty cash grab. And the real kicker? We, the consumers, are left asking why on earth our frozen dinners need pronouns in the first place.
Swanson’s woke branding shows us that, in 2024, nothing – not even a quick microwave meal – can be spared from the relentless push for identity politics. And that, ladies and gentlemen, should leave a sour taste.
