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If you buy a cleaning product adorned with pink packaging and the ubiquitous breast cancer pink ribbon, for example, that pink ribbon is unlicensed and unregulated, so any company can use it, leaving the real work to consumers to figure out if the products they buy will really help the cause. Take Procter & Gamble’s pink ribbon-bedecked Swiffer mop. Daily Finance’s Aimee Picchi reports that although the words “early detection saves” accompany the Swiffer’s pink ribbon, simply purchasing the mop will not help fundraising efforts. Procter & Gamble told Picchi that the company will make a two-cent donation to the National Breast Cancer Foundation only if a consumer uses a coupon from its brand saver coupon book, which could only be found in newspapers on Sept. 27.
"If the label says, 'Money will go to support breast cancer,' well, what does that mean?" Barbara Brenner, the executive director of advocacy group Breast Cancer Action, tells Daily Finance. "If it says it will support breast cancer awareness without being specific, it's not going anywhere."
Meanwhile, many companies that do give generously to breast-cancer fundraising efforts cap their donations, the Boston Globe notes in this extensive piece, "Sick of Pink," even if sales of pink-adorned products are strong and bring in more than expected. Partners of the Texas-based Susan G. Komen for the Cure, which raised nearly $50 million last year from more than 250 corporations that gave Komen some proceeds from product sales, are required to tell consumers on their product packaging how purchasing their products will help Komen, and whether the company has a minimum or maximum donation.
Pair heightened consumer awareness with growing outrage among women breast cancer survivors over the overly pink, overly sweet, over-commercialization of breast cancer, and you could have the makings of an anti-pink backlash. Author Barbara Ehrenreich was one of the first to give voice to outrage over the infantilization and commercialization of women’s breast cancer experiences in her 2001 Harper’s Magazine essay, “Welcome to Cancerland.” She wrote of the cornucopia, starting with teddy bears, of “pink-ribbon-themed breast-cancer products."
"You can dress in pink-beribboned sweatshirts, denim shirts, pajamas, lingerie, aprons, loungewear, shoelaces, and socks; accessorize with pink rhinestone brooches, angel pins, scarves, caps, earrings, and bracelets; brighten up your home with breast-cancer candles, stained-glass pink-ribbon candleholders, coffee mugs, pendants, wind chimes, and night-lights; pay your bills with special BreastChecks or a separate line of Checks for the Cure. 'Awareness' beats secrecy and stigma of course, but I can't help noticing that the existential space in which a friend has earnestly advised me to "confront [my] mortality" bears a striking resemblance to the mall.”
On her blog, The Assertive Cancer Patient, Jeanne Sather also decries the pink-themed commercialization. She leads a “Boycott October” movement to put an end to the often misleading merchandising of the disease. “I keep hoping that each year will be the year that the tide turns, and women say ENOUGH to pink-ribbon Tic Tacs, pink-ribbon laundry soap, pink-ribbon panties, and all the other pink merchandise that appears every fall,” she writes on her blog.
So what’s a caring consumer to do? Breast Cancer Action’s “Think Before You Pink” campaign suggests five questions you can ask before laying down cash for a pink-tinged product. Number one: “How much money from your purchases actually goes toward breast cancer, and is the amount clearly stated on the package?”
You can also bypass products altogether and donate directly to organizations that give directly to cancer research and help women with cancer and their families. Here are a few:
