The Great Corporate Panic Over a Harmless Joke: In-N-Out’s Pathetic Surrender
Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat: In-N-Out, the supposed bastion of American fast-food nostalgia, officially lost its cool. It didn’t lose its mind over a quality control issue or a health code violation. It lost its mind over a number. A two-digit number, ’67,’ that became the latest playground for Gen Z’s highly developed sense of ironic chaos. They didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were completely spooked by a viral trend; they just quietly yanked the number from their system, hoping nobody would notice. But we noticed, didn’t we? This isn’t just a story about a fast-food chain making a small adjustment; it’s a window into the complete inability of legacy brands to understand, or cope with, the new generation’s power to rewrite reality, one absurd meme at a time.
The Official Lie: “Chaos at the Counter”
In-N-Out’s official line, the one they leaked to a few outlets like PEOPLE and some local news stations, is that the ‘6-7’ trend caused ‘chaos’ at the restaurants. They claim teenagers were flooding locations, demanding to ‘order a 67,’ which, when said quickly, sounds like ‘sex-seven’ in a playful, immature way. The company’s representatives reportedly spun this as a logistical nightmare, claiming it slowed down service, confused new employees, and generally disrupted the meticulously calibrated In-N-Out experience. The narrative they want you to believe is that they are protecting the sanctity of the brand for the rest of us, the decent customers who just want a Double-Double, animal style, without having to deal with a bunch of loud, annoying kids making juvenile jokes. They want you to think this was about efficiency, about the bottom line, about making sure your wait time wasn’t extended by three minutes because some TikToker decided to go on a quest for the perfect ‘6-7’ reaction video.
The Real Truth: Corporations Fear Losing Control More Than Losing Profit
Here’s the thing about this supposed ‘chaos.’ In-N-Out built its entire brand on a myth of exclusivity and a ‘secret menu.’ It’s the brand that says, ‘We don’t need to advertise; you have to be *in the know* to understand our greatness.’ For decades, they controlled the narrative. They controlled the secret menu items—the ‘Animal Style’ fries, the ‘Protein Style’ burger, the ‘3×3’ and ‘4×4.’ These items were not officially listed, but they were part of a controlled, carefully cultivated subculture that *they* fostered. The ‘secret menu’ was In-N-Out’s way of winking at its most dedicated fans, making them feel special while simultaneously ensuring the brand maintained a veneer of quality control and simplicity. The company was the high priest, and the customers were the faithful acolytes. This was their game, and it was a masterpiece of marketing.
So, what happened when Gen Z came along and decided to create their *own* secret menu item, one that was purely based on a viral joke and had absolutely nothing to do with the actual food? They created a new ‘secret code’ that In-N-Out did not authorize. They hijacked the very mechanism that In-N-Out used to build its cult status, but they did it with irony instead of reverence. This wasn’t just a logistical problem; it was an existential crisis for the brand’s identity. The ‘6-7’ trend wasn’t a threat to profits; it was a threat to *control* over the brand’s narrative. When the corporation saw teenagers turning their sacred order numbers into a viral, slightly vulgar joke, they realized they weren’t in charge anymore. And for a brand that prides itself on being above the fray, on being a nostalgic throwback that doesn’t play by modern rules, this was an unadulterated nightmare.
In-N-Out’s reaction wasn’t just about removing ’67.’ It was about desperately trying to signal, ‘You can’t do that. You can’t just come in here and make up your own rules. We define the experience. We define the culture.’ But guess what? The new generation doesn’t care about their definition. They care about what’s funny. They care about what gets a reaction on TikTok. And when a corporation acts like a stuffy parent scolding a teenager for making a joke, it just makes the joke funnier and more powerful. In-N-Out’s move didn’t stop the trend; it just gave it more fuel by making the company look like the exact thing Gen Z loves to ridicule: an out-of-touch, overly serious-minded corporation that takes itself far too seriously. A corporation that can’t handle a laugh. The ‘6-7′ trend was never about getting a number ’67’ burger. It was always about the reaction. And In-N-Out gave them exactly what they wanted. It was a complete and utter failure of brand management to understand the modern consumer landscape, a failure that screams ‘We are scared.’ Very, very scared.
The Cultural Significance: Gen Z’s War on Corporate Sincerity
This whole incident, which seems small on the surface, actually represents a much larger cultural shift. We are witnessing the death of corporate sincerity. For decades, companies like In-N-Out built enormous success by cultivating a specific image: simple, wholesome, high-quality, and reliable. They were the good guys in a world of complex, processed foods. But Gen Z, having grown up online, understands that *all* brands are performative. They see the carefully crafted image and immediately want to subvert it. They understand that every corporate action is a calculated maneuver designed to extract profit. So, what’s their weapon? Irony. What’s their strategy? To take something serious—a sacred brand identity—and turn it into a joke, thereby exposing the fragility of the entire construct. This isn’t just about a burger order; it’s about a generation rejecting the very idea that a corporation deserves respect or reverence. They are saying, ‘Your brand identity is a costume, and we’re going to pull at the threads until it rips.’ In-N-Out is a perfect example of how a brand’s strongest point (its specific cult following) can become its weakest point when faced with a generation that values authenticity over loyalty. When you build a brand that’s ‘too good for advertising,’ you create a vacuum of meaning that Gen Z will inevitably fill with their own content, often with a sarcastic tone.
This isn’t a new phenomenon, of course. We’ve seen other brands try to control their narrative in the face of internet trends. Remember when brands started trying to ‘be cool’ and use internet slang? They became laughing stocks almost immediately. The ‘6-7’ situation is different. In-N-Out didn’t try to join the joke; they tried to *kill* the joke. And by doing so, they revealed their true nature. They proved they value order and control over the actual joy and organic nature of a viral phenomenon. They proved that their ‘family values’ and wholesome image have a very low tolerance for anything that remotely resembles a double entendre or a disruption to the strict script they’ve written for their customers. When you run a business on nostalgia, you’re trying to appeal to a simpler time. When the new generation shows up and reminds you that the present is chaotic and irreverent, you have two choices: adapt, or panic. In-N-Out chose panic.
Looking Ahead: The Future of Brand Management in a Post-Irony World
So, where does this leave us? This event sets a dangerous precedent for corporate reaction to viral content. We are going to see more and more companies, especially those with strong, established identities, reacting preemptively to internet trends that they perceive as threats. They will remove menu items, change internal policies, and issue vague statements about ‘maintaining standards’ all because they’re terrified of being made fun of. The alternative, of course, would be to simply embrace the chaos. Imagine if In-N-Out had leaned into the ‘6-7′ trend, maybe even offered a limited-time ’67’ burger (perhaps a 6×7, or something equally absurd). They could have turned a potentially disruptive trend into a massive, free marketing opportunity, generating goodwill among the exact generation they need to secure for future sales. But they didn’t. They took the path of fear. They took the path of ‘no fun allowed.’
This reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of Gen Z consumer behavior. For this generation, a brand’s willingness to be in on the joke is a sign of authenticity. A brand’s inability to laugh at itself is a sign of stiffness and artificiality. In-N-Out has always been lauded for its authenticity; its simple menu and traditional approach were seen as genuine. But by reacting so strongly to something so silly, they have undermined that very authenticity. They’ve shown that when push comes to shove, their brand identity is more important than genuine, organic customer engagement. This makes them look less like a cult classic and more like a stuffy corporation trying to hold onto a bygone era. The irony here is thick enough to spread on a burger bun: a brand built on a ‘secret code’ panics when a generation creates its own. The lesson here? Don’t be a spoilsport. When the internet starts making jokes, you either join in or risk becoming the joke yourself. In-N-Out is now officially a punchline, and they have only themselves to blame.
Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Pixabay.