Greenberg: San Francisco’s Woke Pride Fate

For years, SF Pride has leaned hard into its activist identity, transforming what was once a jubilant commemoration into a sanctimonious soapbox. Its 2025 theme, “Queer Joy is Resistance,” reeks of the kind of self-righteous sloganeering that turns a party into an uncomfortable, biased, scolding lecture. Now, with a gaping budgetary hole threatening its June 28-29 extravaganza—estimates fear the shortfall could reach $2.3 million (that’s 66% of the operating costs)— the organizers of Pride are facing the music.

The organization’s recent loss of $300,000 in corporate sponsorships from corporate heavyweights like Comcast, Meta, Anheuser-Busch, Diageo, and local wine producer La Crema isn’t just a budgetary hiccup and reason to give pause; it’s a big flashing neon sign that even the most progressive enterprises can’t outrun the consequences of their own ideological bullying.

Corporations aren’t charities; they’re in the business of making money, not pandering to every cause that waves a rainbow flag and demands reverence. When Anheuser-Busch took a staggering $27 billion market valuation hit in 2023 after its ill-fated Dylan Mulvaney Bud Light campaign, the lesson was obvious: customers don’t want their beer – or their cable subscriptions, or their wine, or Facebook account—preaching politics at them.

SF Pride’s insistence on vetting sponsors for ideological purity and framing itself as a heroic fortification against oppression doesn’t just alienate the majority of America; it spooks the very sponsor companies it depends on to keep the lights on. Why would Anheuser-Busch or Diageo, or La Crema, already navigating a volatile alcohol market, risk another PR disaster for a group that’s more interested in “resistance” than putting on a big fun party?

Let’s be Tiffany-crystal clear: this isn’t about America’s “changing political climates” or some grand conspiracy orchestrated by the Trump administration, as SF Pride’s Executive Director Suzanne Ford would have you believe. It’s about common sense—and today’s free market delivering a long-overdue, kick-in-the-chaps reality check.

Suzanne Ford’s excuse that sponsorships are drying up (because of a Trump administration’s backlash against diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives) is an ignorant and convenient cop-out—a deflection from the real issue. Sure, Trump’s executive orders targeting DEI in federal spheres have rattled some boardrooms, and the political winds have shifted since 2020. But pinning Pride’s financial woes on Washington ignores the bigger picture: people are just tired of being guilt-tripped into activism.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. Just in 2023, SF Pride was already begging for donations to stay afloat, hinting at a financial mess that predates any recent policy shift. And Trump wasn’t President then. The truth is simpler and more damning: Pride’s ballooning budget—once as high as $3.2 million, with nearly three-quarters coming from corporate donors—reveals an organization addicted to fiscal excess. When you demand millions to throw a party while simultaneously scolding the world for its sins, don’t be shocked when the all-important checks stop coming. It’s a textbook case of woke ideology overplaying its hand. Pride’s scale and sanctimony have outgrown its appeal, and its reliance on corporate handouts exposes a hollow core. If “queer joy” is truly resistance, why does it need Comcast’s blessing—or Anheuser-Busch’s deep pockets—to survive?

Yet, this isn’t just about money; it’s about mission creep. What started in June, 1970 as a grassroots celebration of identity has morphed today into a bloated, preachy spectacle that demands everyone—attendees, sponsors, even passersby—bow to its worldview while acknowledging San Francisco is on unceded ancestral homeland. The vetting process for sponsors, ensuring they align with Pride’s non-discrimination standards, sounds virtuous until you realize it’s a litmus test that shrinks the donor pool. Pride’s model is unsustainable when it alienates the very entities it needs most.

Does SF Pride exhibit intolerance, bias, or bigotry toward gay Jews and Israelis? Some say yes – requiring examining its actions, policies, and broader community dynamics.

SF Pride, as an organization and an event, aims to champion LGBTQ+ rights and inclusion yet at times have been accused of bias or intolerance toward these intersecting identities. A notable example is the 2017 incident involving the Chicago Dyke March (not SF Pride, but often cited by similar critiques), where Jewish women carrying rainbow flags with the Star of David were asked to leave due to perceived Zionist symbolism, which organizers deemed “triggering” and incompatible with the event’s pro-Palestinian stance. This incident fueled a narrative among Jewish and Israeli LGBTQ+ individuals that queer spaces can be hostile to their identities when tied to Israel. A similar dynamic emerged with the 2019 banning of the Israeli flag by a small contingent of activists at a Pride-related event, though SF Pride as an organization did not officially endorse this action.

For gay Jews, the issue is less about overt exclusion from SF Pride and more about a perceived erasure of their intersectional identity. San Francisco’s total Jewish community, numbering around 40,000, includes many LGBTQ+ individuals who participate in SF Pride without issue. However, those openly expressing Zionist views or Israeli heritage report feeling unwelcome in many queer circles. A 2023 survey by the Jewish Community Federation of San Francisco found that 15% of local Jewish LGBTQ+ respondents felt “alienated” by progressive spaces, including Pride events, due to anti-Israel sentiment.

And let’s not forget the history of SF Pride’s antagonistic relationship with the police department. Yes, Pride even bans SFPD from marching as allies, over feelings of triggering participants. [https://www.nbcnews.com/nbc-out/out-politics-and-policy/san-franciscos-mayor-boycott-pride-parade-uniformed-police-ban-rcna30283 ]. Previous SF Mayor London Breed even boycotted attending the parade unless the cop ban was lifted.

The irony is thick. For an event that prides itself on inclusivity, SF Pride’s ideological rigidity excludes the pragmatic middle ground where most Americans—and most businesses—live. Suzanne Ford insists the show will go on, banking on community support to offset the corporate exodus. Crowdsourcing might keep the lights on for 2025, but it’s not a long-term fix. SF Pride, as an organization and an event, must ditch the lectures, scale back the dogma, and remember what a celebration is supposed to be: a party, not a manifesto.