Launched at Australia’s biggest beer festival and allegedly the first local commercial hazy IPA, Hop Nation’s ‘Jedi Juice’ had a strong following. In 2019, many of its fans were outraged when, after a complaint, the alcohol advertising regulator ruled it in breach of standards, prompting the brewery to slightly change its branding — though they still often reference the saga. So, for May The Fourth, let’s look back.

First, the all-too-necessary caveats: I’m talking about the marketing, and the case against it. Both of those were flawed. The beer itself, I liked. The brewery, even more — they make one of my favourite beers from my years in Melbourne¹ and are generally extremely reliable; I was happy to live so close to them. I come in peace, and am trying to be constructive. But they still seem a bit mad about it, unable to let it go — or just keen to leverage the resentment of their customers — so it’s worth revisiting what was an instructive mess. After all: the greatest teacher, failure is.

The full ruling is available online, and a relatively easy read. It was a non-binding determination which Hop Nation agreed to follow; no one ‘forced’ them to do anything. Some large retailers are bound by the ABAC code more directly, so they did face Jedi Juice being de-listed — that one product, in some outlets. Not nothing, but hardly insurmountable if they were really so passionate about the brand. Instead, they shortened the name to ‘J-Juice’ and anonymised the character in the artwork, even as they preserve the May 4 connection.

Meanwhile, the originating complaint barely made any sense. The panel’s single-sentence summary of it notes that someone² was “concerned that the packaging attracts under 18 year olds as […] a friend’s teenage boys (14-15) were very excited when they saw the ‘Jedi Juice’ packaging [in a bottleshop] asking if they could purchase it as it was ‘so cool’.”³ To which the obvious reply — from the boys’ parent, and from the store staff — should simply be No. I’m sure a lot of teenage boys think driving is cool, too, but we make them get a license once they’re a certain age rather than just banning it for everyone purely to stop them. We build systems of regulation for these things, and there’s no suggestion they failed, here.

But then, the company’s response⁴ was unconvincing. They start with a dubious effort to hide behind the “average” demographics of a Star Wars fan, rather than deal with the obvious fact that these are movies about space wizards, intended for children. Then they desperately cite the fact the most-recent installments were rated ‘M’ (for “Mature”) in Australia, when that’s actually defined as 15 and over and anyway the original movies (which they’re specifically referencing) have the lower PG classification. Implausibly, they also claim that it was “clearly labelled as alcohol” when you’d have to look at the small print on the back for that. The front prominently says “juice” which might be one of the first hundred words a person learns the plain meaning of, while “NEIPA” likely won’t crack the first ten thousand.

My main problem with the ruling⁵ is that it spent almost all of its time litigating the Star Wars reference when the potential confusion with actual juice might’ve been the more persuasive case against that original branding and so warranted more discussion. I think this flows from a lack of nuance in the Code itself: “minor” is defined as everyone “under 18 years of age and therefore not legally permitted to purchase alcohol in Australia” — but that group includes developmental stages that raise very different considerations. There’s a spectrum from a product-safety concern that small children might accidentally drink something with words or motifs too similar to non-alcoholic products,⁶ to the drug-control one of whether certain aspects of marketing (design, pricing, placement) might effectively entice underage drinking that wouldn’t happen otherwise. Each calls for its own tailored mix of parental responsibility, education, and regulation. The Code, the Panel, and indeed the rest of us, should be careful not to muddle everything together.

But all that aside, ‘Jedi Juice’ should’ve never made it past the brainstorming stage. It’s a complete nothing of a reference, mere name-dropping nostalgia bait with absolutely no substance. None of their other beers have a pop culture theme, and this one didn’t earn it. There’s no conceivable link to the Star Wars mythos here; nothing specific to point to, nor anything abstract about the Jedi that relates to a hazy IPA — and Leia (to her credit) wasn’t a member of the order anyway, so her portrait doesn’t fit. The question of what the brewery might’ve even meant has been a thorn in my brain for years,⁷ the best I could come up with is that they brewed it with ‘Galaxy far, far away’ — since its hop bill is apparently Nelson Sauvin, Citra, and Mosaic.

The brewery grandly claimed that their “customers appreciate the extra effort and skill in producing an artistic and meaningful label” and that “by limiting the imagery and references that can be used on labels that appeal to all ages […] the ABAC Panel will be ultimately stifling creativity and limiting a brand’s freedom of expression.”⁸ And that’s pretty galling given how shallow and how perilously close to outright IP theft ‘Jedi Juice’ actually was. It’s entirely possible to do this right, if you feel the need. I always go back to Garage Project’s ‘Lack Of Faith’ — it’s got layers of visual reference and a direct quote from the first movie,⁹ but nothing that would stir a Disney lawyer to action. Hop Nation finished their response with a line that would be familiar to anyone who has desperately tried to stick the landing on a law school assignment in the minutes before it’s due: in ruling against them, “the Panel would be opening the floodgates” since there are so many similar brands in the market¹⁰ — I wish. We’re still knee-deep in low-effort pop culture ripoffs and beers masquerading as soft drinks.

And ‘J-Juice’ makes zero sense as a beer name, on its own. It merely stands as a sad memorial to a fight that wasn’t worth having in the first place. Time to let old things die. You’re still holding on, Hop Nation; let go.

1. Spoiler alert: it’s Rattenhund, which sits atop my personal winner’s podium right alongside Love Shack ESB. They deserve their own post, but the calendar rolled around to the relevant date here, first.
2. I hate that the brewery get shady (in the banner above) about the fact the complaint was anonymous. Of course it was, and should be allowed to be. Have you seen the internet, these days?
3. ABAC Adjudication Panel Final Determination No. 34/19, para 11 on page 3
4. ABAC Determination No. 34/19, para 23, pages 6-7 has a summary by the Panel, but their full submissions are included as attachments 1 and 2
5. ABAC Determination No. 34/19 paragraph 28, p8 is where the crucial “appeal to minors” discussion starts.
6. Despite a few later cases about confectionary-themed branding and words like “juicy” some shockingly-irresponsible designs still make it all the way to release — one of the ones at that link is a 440ml can of 10.2% beer literally labeled Nothing But Juice. Hop Nation, meanwhile, did actually address some of these concerns with their rebrand: look at the tweaks to phrasing and relative font size, and how the ABV is now on the face of the can. It’s still called “juice” though.
7. I’ve personally written the label text for dozens of beers and always been careful to give some context to the name, at least. I think if you can’t do that, just marketing by style term is better than slapping on some irrelevant in-joke or random thing that you grasp at before the print deadline.
8. ABAC Determination No. 34/19, attachment 2, p17
9. The recipe itself also involved a bit of a mind-trick that I do my best to keep secret — or at least refrain from publishing here — to this day. (When it came out, I had recently moved from working at the brewery who made it to the bar where it was launched.)
10. ABAC Determination No. 34/19, attachment 2, p18. They then cite a number of products which passed ABAC’s “pre-vetting” process — most of which also, frankly, suck — though the Panel notes (paragraph 24, p7) that’s not actually a defence against a complaint. (Maybe it should be, but it’s not.)