Sierra Nevada Brewing Company: The Boycott

Image courtesy of One Oar in the Water.

Some readers may recall the correspondence between your blog host and Sierra Grossman of Chico’s Sierra Nevada Brewing Company over the latter’s support for a local abortion mill. Thanks to Catholic Beer Review, The Curt Jester, and the Rosary Army (listen to their podcast) a boycott of Sierra Nevada’s products seems to be picking up steam. For Sierra Grossman’s edification I offer these quotes from the aforementioned websites:

“Okay, back to the bad guys. Miller products don’t interest me anyway and they ended up doing the right thing, so if you must drink Miller beer then you can buy their products in good conscience (the only pang of conscience one might have is whether it’s really fair to call Miller Lite ‘beer’.) But Samuel Adams and Sierra Nevada products are top flight and represent some of my favorite beers. This is harder. What is a Catholic to do? Well, in the face of Sierra Nevada’s unrepentant support of a notorious abortion provider, I think they need to face a Catholic boycott. If you agree with me, let them know that you’re not buying their stuff any more.” – David Palm

“That being said I think it would be a good idea for Catholics to boycott Sieraa-Nevada and I will do so myself – and I do like their brews.” – Jeff Miller

“I am extremely disappointed to hear the bad news about Sierra Nevada. For over a year, I sort of got away from my main brew, Samuel Adams Boston Lager, and was buying SN’s Pale Ale. It’s truly a great American pale ale but upon learning of their unrepentant support for abortion (thanks to the Court Jester and this site), I will no longer buy it.”
– Dan Garcia

“I had thought of exploring the Sierra Nevada brews, but now, I figure I won’t.” – James Garrison

“Now my taste buds think that drinking Miller beer would be sinful, so I couldn’t boycott them anyway. Samuel Adam appears not to have made the same mistakes they did previously and so I don’t think their is any real need for a boycott against them. Sierra Nevada is another story and I will be boycotting them … This is too bad since I really like Sierra Nevada’s brews and ironically started buying their beer after Greg Willits of Rosary Army mentioned them.” – Jeff Miller

“Thanks for the info! I felt badly telling my husband, as that is one of his favorite beers, but we needed to know.” – Kristen J.

“Man. This is the perfect example of a situation where ignorance is bliss. My favorite brewery is an abortion advocate. That’s like a sucker punch, Jeff. I refuse to buy Samuel Adams because of what they did. But now Sierra Nevada? That just hurts.” – Greg

“Thanks for the info! I will make it a point not to order those beers again! God bless!” – Padre Steve

“Miller is swill. Never been much for Sam Adams, though I have one occasionally. And I’ll certainly be staying away from Sierra Nevada.” – Josh Miller

“Shame about Sierra Nevada. Any news on Anchor Steam? (They ARE based in San Francisco…)” – Joe

Send your comments to Sierra Grossman at this address: .


Anthony Esolen on the New Barbarians

This entry at Mere Comments deserves to be quoted in full:

“I hesitate to use the word ‘barbarian’ to describe our current state of amnesia — or, worse, our current pleasure in deriding our civic, intellectual, and spiritual forefathers. That’s because barbarians did not do that. The change from nomadic tribesman to citizen does not mark the beginning of chronicles and memorials and feasts to honor the legendary heroes of one’s people. What changes is the form of the memorial — in stone, perhaps, rather than merely in orally bequeathed poetry — and the reasons for celebrating the virtue; no longer mere courage in the battlefield, but courage shown for the sake of one’s country. In other words, there is a fine continuity between celebrating the strength of Achilles and celebrating the bravery of Horatius at the bridge.

So how should we describe this new thing in the world, a people without roots, tumbleweeds that flit and float from fad to fad, attracted by bright toys and flashy sleaze? Postcultural, certainly, but also postbarbarian. The barbarian has not been civilized yet; but what we have now are people who used to be civilized, and that seems to me to be a different thing entirely. Right now I’m poking around in old schoolbooks, readers from the 1800’s, for instance. The literary quality of the pieces included in Holmes’ Fifth Reader is impressive (selections by Shakespeare, Dickens, Macaulay, Browning, Henry Clay, John Marshall, for example). Even the dated pieces by writers we no longer recognize are not all that bad. What strikes me most powerfully, though, is the assumption by the anthologist that the young reader will be edified, literally ‘built up,’ by his encounter with the great writers of England and America. The reader is expected to know, or to want to know, who General Anthony Wayne was, or what John Marshall was like in his personal habits, or how Henry Clay rose from penury and ignorance to his long career of service in the Senate. More than one kind of memory is exercised by these pieces; and it is not true that the students were encouraged never to question the complete wisdom of all those who came before them. That surely was not possible, two decades after the Civil War. Honor is not the same thing as supine submission.

In any case, by any standard I can think of — erudition, taste, depth of thought, sheer humanity — there is no way I can consider that reader as the same sort of thing as the typical textbook or movie or television show aimed at adolescents now. It would be like comparing the Aphrodite of Melos to an old stone age steatopygic (there’s the word of the day) fertility doll, except that that’s not fair to the men and women of Bedrock.

The barbarian’s roots were few but deep. We have pulled our roots up. I don’t know what that makes us. I don’t know, either, what others will say, but I had rather sit by the fire with a gang of hunters or marauders and sing about the courage of Sigemund or the skill of Weland, than slouch on a sofa to sautee my mind and soul with Sex and the City. Which is as much as to say, I kind of like a fully human life, with memories and traditions extending far into the venerable past, and connecting me with the future. I’d rather be a barbarian with thirty years of that kind of long life, than whatever in the name of the regions below we are now, skittering for ninety years from pointless moment to moment.”