It's complicated. Like finding out your favourite indie band signed to a major label. The music might still be good, but something changed.
I ran a study with 6 American craft beer enthusiasts to understand how they perceive Goose Island after the AB InBev acquisition. The findings reveal the messy reality of corporate ownership in craft beer.
The Participants
Six craft beer enthusiasts aged 28-50 across the United States. Regular craft beer buyers who have strong opinions about what 'craft' means. Some knew about the acquisition, others were surprised to learn.
The Ownership Revelation
Here's the thing about corporate acquisitions: they don't stay secret. And when craft beer drinkers find out, they have feelings about it.
I used to love Goose Island. Then I found out who owns them.
The discovery creates a moment of re-evaluation. Everything the consumer thought they knew about the brand gets filtered through this new information. For some, it's disqualifying. For others, it changes nothing.
But even the consumers who don't care intellectually acknowledge an emotional shift.
Key insight: Corporate ownership is a liability in craft beer. It doesn't matter if the beer is the same. The story changed.
The Bourbon County Exception
Not everything gets tainted by the acquisition. Quality can still shine through.
That beer is legitimately world-class. Ownership aside.
Bourbon County Brand Stout maintains respect even among consumers who've soured on the broader Goose Island brand. The beer's reputation was earned before the acquisition and remains protected by its quality.
This suggests a path forward: exceptional products can transcend corporate skepticism. But 'good enough' products cannot.
Key insight: Outstanding quality can survive corporate ownership. Average quality cannot.
Distribution: Help and Hurt
One thing corporate ownership brings is distribution. Goose Island is everywhere now. But that visibility is complicated.
I can find it everywhere now, which is convenient but less special.
Availability creates a paradox. The beer is easier to get, which is good. But part of craft beer's appeal was its scarcity and locality. When something is everywhere, it feels less like a discovery.
Availability increases accessibility but decreases perceived specialness
National distribution feels at odds with craft identity
The hunting and discovery aspect of craft beer disappears
Convenience competes with authenticity
Key insight: Distribution is a double-edged sword. Being everywhere means being nowhere special.
What This Means for Acquired Craft Brands
Transparency matters. Hiding ownership creates backlash when discovered.
Protect flagship products. Exceptional quality can survive corporate association.
Don't over-distribute. Scarcity and locality are part of craft's appeal.
Acknowledge the tension. Pretending nothing changed insults your audience's intelligence.
The Bottom Line
Corporate acquisitions in craft beer create an authenticity problem that can't be marketed away. The most loyal craft consumers are also the most likely to feel betrayed by corporate ownership.
The brands that navigate this successfully will be the ones that maintain exceptional quality, preserve some sense of locality and scarcity, and don't pretend that ownership doesn't matter.
Want to test your craft brand positioning with real consumers? Ditto lets you run studies like this in hours, not weeks. Book a demo at askditto.io.
What the Research Revealed
We asked real consumers to share their thoughts. Here's what they told us:
Is there a point where a "craft" beer becomes so widely available that it stops feeling craft? Does distribution size affect your perception of a brewery's authenticity?
Charles Perez, 42, Unemployed Adult, Mobile, AL, USA:
Yeah, there’s a point. When a “craft” beer is stacked on endcaps at big-box, filling gas station coolers, and showing up in stadium ads, it stops feeling small-batch and starts reading corporate. Distribution size absolutely tweaks my perception - not automatic disqualification, but a yellow flag. Big reach often means distributor muscle, shelf wars, and quiet recipe drift to hit wider pallets. If they scale up but the beer still tastes dialed, the taproom crew’s the same, and they’re dropping oddball seasonals instead of chasing seltzer trends, I’ll give it grace. But once it’s coast-to-coast and blanding out, I’m out.
Kevin Luna, 38, Construction Manager, Rural, NJ, USA:
Short answer: yeah. There’s a point where it stops feeling craft and starts feeling like product. Distribution size absolutely messes with my sense of authenticity. Not automatically, but the bigger the footprint, the more I’m side-eyeing it. What trips my alarm: Can a bigger distro still feel craft? Maybe, if: But my default when something blows up nationwide: skeptical. I’ll drink it if it’s cold and free at a cookout, sure. If I’m buying with my own cash, I’d rather back the folks keeping it tight and close to home. Keep it honest or keep it moving.
Sydney Cobb, 40, Unemployed Adult, Rural, SC, USA:
Yeah, there’s a point. When it’s on every shelf, every gas station tap, big stacks at Walmart, it stops feeling craft and starts feeling regular. Size does change how I see the authentic part. If they keep the same taste, same crew, and still show up at local fundraisers, I can live with wider reach. But once they brew it far off, chase hype, and jack the price, I’m out. Now, are they still local-owned, or did somebody big buy it?
Goose Island is a Chicago craft brewery that was bought by AB InBev. Does knowing this background change whether you would order their beer? Does the "craft" label still feel authentic?
Sydney Cobb, 40, Unemployed Adult, Rural, SC, USA:
Yeah, it’d make me think twice. The craft tag don’t feel the same once a big company’s on the can. If the taste still hits and the price is decent, I might drink one with fried fish on a hot day, but I’m not hunting it down. I’d rather buy local or grab something cheaper. Now, they still brewing it the same with the same crew, or did the big folks start tweaking it?
Charles Perez, 42, Unemployed Adult, Mobile, AL, USA:
Yeah, it changes it for me. Once a giant like AB owns it, the craft label doesn’t feel authentic anymore - it reads like a sticker, not a promise. I’m not saying the beer is undrinkable; some of it still tastes pretty good. But I’d rather my money stay with a local taproom than feed a global ad budget, especially when I can taste little shifts over time, like when a tool brand gets bought and the screws start to strip. If the bar’s choices are macro light stuff or Goose Island, I might grab theirs and move on. If there’s a real independent option, I’m picking that every time.
Matthew Perez, 41, Unemployed Adult, Savannah, GA, USA:
Yeah, it changes it. I’ll drink it if it’s cheap or someone brought a sixer, but I’m not ordering it at a bar if there’s a real independent on tap. The “craft” on that label feels marketing now, not soul. Bottom line: on a wet Savannah night, I’d rather support a local taproom. Goose Island’s “craft” doesn’t feel authentic anymore, pero si está en oferta at a cookout, sure, I’ll drink it.
If you learned that a craft brewery you like was purchased by Anheuser-Busch or another large beer company, would that change how you feel about the beer? Why or why not?
Charles Perez, 42, Unemployed Adult, Mobile, AL, USA:
Yeah, it would change how I feel. I get twitchy when a giant scoops up a small brewery, because stuff drifts - the recipe, the vibe, the people behind the bar. Like when I rewired the porch light with a cheap switch and it started to flicker, you can taste that same cost-cutting in a beer once they start swapping hops or dialing sweetness to hit a wider shelf. I also want my money staying local, not feeding some quarterly report. If it still tastes the same after a couple six-packs and the taproom crew is intact, fine, I’ll keep it in the rotation. But the first hint of thinner body, sweeter finish, or that weird bland aftertaste they all get, I’m out. I’ve watched a pale ale I loved turn syrupy after a buyout - not doing that dance again.
Anselmo Santiago, 45, Teacher Aide, Rural, FL, USA:
Yeah, it would change how I feel. Trust takes a hit. Once a big company scoops up a small brewery, I start assuming the corners will get shaved - not always obvious, but little things. Maybe the hops feel flatter, or it suddenly tastes like the safer cousin they can push in stadiums. Could be in my head, but I’ve seen that movie with other foods. Ya no es lo mismo. Here’s how I handle it, quietly, not performative: Do I boycott? No. I just stop caring. I’ll grab a simple lager for grilling or something local when I can. If the beer stays solid and honest, fine, I’ll keep it in the rotation. But the minute it tastes like a committee meeting, I’m done. I need my beer like my Saturday after yard work - quiet, straightforward, not trying to sell me a story every sip.
Matthew Perez, 41, Unemployed Adult, Savannah, GA, USA:
Yeah, it changes it for me. Not automatically to hate it, but it takes some of the shine off. Small place gets swallowed, the vibe usually shifts, and I start side-eyeing the can. Bottom line: if it still tastes good and it’s cheap, I’ll drink it at a cookout. But my default shifts to the independents, and the bought-out brand slides into my “only on sale” pile.
