When Starbucks Korea parted ways with its chief executive this week over a marketing event dubbed ‘Tank Day’, the news rippled far beyond Seoul. The event, which drew on imagery of military vehicles and patriotic fervour, touched a raw nerve in a country still haunted by its history of military dictatorship. But for British readers, the episode is more than a distant corporate scandal. It is a mirror held up to our own uneasy relationship with the past.
Let us be clear: Starbucks Korea did not merely fumble a promotion. It misread the cultural temperature of a nation where memories of the Gwangju Uprising and decades of authoritarian rule remain vivid. The ‘Tank Day’ concept, meant to evoke strength and unity, instead summoned ghosts of oppression. The apology came swiftly, the CEO’s departure even faster. Yet the damage to brand trust was done.
Now, the calls are growing for British corporations to conduct similar audits of their own histories. This is not about erasing difficult chapters, but about understanding how the past lives on in the present. Consider the legacy of empire in so many UK-based companies: the tea and sugar fortunes built on colonial labour, the banks that financed the slave trade, the factories that profited from imperial supply chains. These are not ancient histories. They are living wounds for many communities.
What would a thorough audit look like? It would mean more than a plaque or a diversity initiative. It would require grappling with the uncomfortable truth that success often came at a human cost. It would involve listening to descendants of those who bore that cost, and asking what meaningful restitution might be. Not out of guilt, but out of a recognition that ignoring the past is a luxury we can no longer afford.
Some will argue that this is ‘wokeness’ gone mad, that businesses should focus on profit, not penance. But the Starbucks Korea debacle proves that the opposite is true: failing to understand history is a business risk. In a world where consumers are increasingly values driven, a company’s moral compass is as important as its balance sheet. The cost of a misstep is not just bad press, it is the loss of customer loyalty, employee morale, and ultimately, market share.
For British corporations, the lesson is clear. The ghosts of empire are not laid to rest. They haunt the boardrooms and the factory floors, the client rosters and the annual reports. To ignore them is to invite the same kind of reckoning that befell Starbucks Korea. And that reckoning, when it comes, will be far more expensive than any audit.
Clara Whitby, Culture & Society Editor.
