TL;DR Every time a host says something controversial, we hear the same battle cry: “Boycott the advertisers!” The theory is that if you punish the brands who bought commercial time, the show will fold, the host will cave, or the network will backpedal. Here’s the problem: that’s not how advertising actually works. Most advertisers don’t “support” the shows they appear on — they’re just renting access to the audience.
Let’s unpack why advertiser boycotts sound powerful but usually miss the mark — and what’s really happening behind the curtain of media buying.
The Kimmel Example: Why the Wrong Target Got Chosen
When Jimmy Kimmel Live! got suspended (and then quickly reinstated) in 2025, the internet did what the internet always does: it grabbed pitchforks and hashtags. People weren’t just mad at Kimmel. They were mad at Toyota, Domino’s, P&G, and whoever else dared run an ad during his show. Calls to boycott advertisers trended almost immediately (Adweek).
But here’s the inconvenient truth: those advertisers weren’t making a moral statement. They weren’t saying, “We stand with Jimmy.” They were saying, “Our customers happen to be watching ABC at 11:35 p.m.” That’s it. The connection is audience, not ideology.
Think about it. Domino’s sells pizza to Democrats and Republicans alike. Toyota doesn’t segment its Corolla buyers into “Kimmel fans” versus “Fallon fans.” These are mass-market brands chasing mass-market eyeballs. If you want to boycott them because they sell cars and pizza, fine. But because they had a :30-second spot in a late-night lineup? That’s aiming at the wrong target.
How Ads Actually Land in Those Slots
To understand why advertiser boycotts are so misguided, you need to peek into the mechanics of media buying. And spoiler: it’s way less glamorous — and way less ideological — than most people think.
Audience First, Always
Brands don’t start by asking: “Do we like Jimmy Kimmel?” They ask: “Who’s awake and watching TV at midnight? What’s their age, their income, their likelihood of buying detergent, cars, or frozen pizza?” If that audience lines up with their product, they buy. If it doesn’t, they don’t. Simple.
Procter & Gamble, the largest advertiser in the world, spends billions every year. Their calculus is audience and efficiency — not whether they endorse late-night jokes.
Buying in Bulk
A huge amount of ad inventory is bought in bundles. At the annual “upfronts,” networks sell advertisers entire packages: primetime, late-night, daytime. An advertiser doesn’t necessarily pick Kimmel out of the lineup. They buy a “late-night bucket.” Kimmel’s show happens to be in that bucket.
Later in the year, there’s the “scatter market” — where advertisers scoop up unsold inventory. And then there’s remnant inventory: the clearance rack of TV ads. These discounted slots get filled, often at the last minute (Tatari). The advertiser still pays, but not necessarily with full control of which show their ad lands in.
Rotators and Randomness
To make things even messier, many ad placements are “rotators.” That means the network or digital platform rotates which ads appear, depending on what’s available. You might see Domino’s at the break; the next viewer sees State Farm. It’s not always precision targeting. Sometimes it’s just whoever’s slot was queued up.
So when you yell at an advertiser for being on a show, remember: sometimes even they didn’t know that’s where their ad would land.
The Rare Times Boycotts Do Work
Now, there are exceptions. In 2018, Laura Ingraham lost more than two dozen advertisers after mocking Parkland shooting survivor David Hogg (CNN). That boycott was very visible, very organized, and advertisers pulled out voluntarily to protect their reputations.
But those cases are the exception, not the rule. For every Ingraham-style retreat, there are dozens of Kimmel-style flare-ups where advertisers shrug, stay quiet, and wait for the news cycle to move on. And it always does.
Advertisers know the risk: if they pulled out of every show that ever had a controversy, they’d run out of places to advertise. And since national brands need reach, they play the long game. They don’t overreact unless the reputational risk is catastrophic.
Why Boycotts Miss the Mark
01
You’re Not Hurting Who You Think You’re Hurting
Networks don’t give 100% of your boycott dollars to Jimmy Kimmel or any other host. Ad revenue is split across production, distribution, overhead, and other shows. Pulling a P&G ad from Kimmel doesn’t necessarily dent his paycheck.
02
Brands Sell to Everyone
Most mass-market advertisers sell across the political and cultural spectrum. Pepsi doesn’t want to alienate half the country. They’re not going to run their business based on your Twitter thread.
04
You Risk Backfiring
Sometimes a boycott draws more attention to the show. Outrage fuels curiosity, ratings spike, and the show gets free PR. Congratulations: you just made the problem louder.
03
Inventory Is Replaceable
If a few advertisers pull out, networks can usually backfill with others or offer discounts. The machine keeps running. Unless there’s a massive, coordinated, sustained pullout (think Ingraham), the effect is temporary.
The Real Way Advertisers Decide to Walk Away
When advertisers truly exit a show, it’s almost never about politics. It’s about risk management.
They ask: Does being here create more risk than reward? If the answer is yes — if the backlash threatens the brand’s reputation or distracts from its sales — they’ll quietly pull the plug. That’s not endorsement or morality. That’s survival.
In fact, after the Kimmel flap, media buyers told Adweek the climate of fear was the real problem. Nobody wanted to be the next brand caught in a political firestorm (Adweek). They weren’t rushing to support Kimmel. They were rushing to avoid being noticed.
What This Means for Activism
If your goal is to pressure a network or host, boycotting random advertisers is a weak lever. There are smarter plays:
Target the network directly. That’s where the money and power sit.
Cancel or withhold subscriptions. If you pay for streaming services that carry the show, that’s a more direct line.
Apply reputational pressure selectively. If a brand actively sponsors or promotes the show, then yes — that’s fair game. But scattershot boycotts just punish whoever bought airtime that week.
Educate instead of antagonize. Call out the show, the content, the platform. Don’t waste energy shaming Crest toothpaste because it happened to air at 11:37 p.m.
The Takeaway
Every time a boycott wave forms around advertisers, remember: the entire ad ecosystem is built on audience math, not political loyalty. The Domino’s spot wasn’t a love letter to Jimmy Kimmel; it was a calculated bet that late-night viewers get hungry.
If you want to hold someone accountable, start with the people making the content — not the brands who just bought a ticket to the audience. Boycotting advertisers might feel cathartic, but in most cases, it’s a blunt instrument that barely makes a dent.
And maybe, just maybe, we’d all be better off directing outrage at the actual issue rather than at a detergent brand that simply wanted to sell more Tide Pods.