A short factory tour in early March turned into another public-relations headache for one of China’s best‑known coconut‑drink makers. Visitors photographed banners inside a Yeshù factory that explicitly tied female employees’ bodies to the product with slogans such as “big, big, big” and claims that “seeking big breasts is so babies can get milk.” The images went online and quickly reignited a long‑running debate about the company’s advertising tactics.
This episode is the latest in a pattern of deliberately provocative marketing by Yeshù (椰树集团). Regulators and netizens have repeatedly flagged its copy as vulgar or sexually suggestive: a 2019 campaign featuring a curvy spokesperson was fined 200,000 yuan for implying coconut juice could enlarge breasts; recruitment ads in 2021 and 2022 were penalised after using promises of “beauties and handsome guys” to entice applicants; and in 2024 the company was fined 400,000 yuan over web copy that used crude sexual innuendo and then publicly protested the penalty as a misunderstanding of “science education.”
Yeshù’s defence has become familiar. When criticised this month, customer‑service staff shrugged that the campaign was produced by the group and could not say whether employees objected, while a later internal statement promised to “pay attention to suggestions” and make changes. In previous cases the company has framed fines as disproportionate and warned of the social cost to employees and coconut growers should the business be impaired.
For observers the pattern is not merely a lapse in taste but a deliberate commercial strategy: provocative copy and imagery generate headlines and social‑media traction at a cost lower than sustained, high‑quality advertising. Chinese commentators accuse Yeshù of treating regulatory fines as a marketing expense—paying moderate penalties in return for bursts of national visibility. The brand pairs these stunts with long‑standing, gaudy packaging and attention‑seeking product variants such as “bust model” bottles and sexually suggestive livestream formats.
That strategy is increasingly risky. Chinese regulators have stepped up enforcement against “vulgar” or sexually explicit advertising in recent years as part of a wider campaign to police public morality and online culture. Platforms and state media have little tolerance for copy that overtly sexualises employees or violates notions of public order (公序良俗). Repeated fines may invite stricter sanctions over time: larger penalties, forced withdrawal of campaigns, or even limits on e‑commerce and broadcast channels.
There is also a reputational calculus. Yeshù benefits from being a long‑standing national brand with a broadly well‑liked product. But habitual use of borderline sexual marketing risks chipping away at that goodwill, alienating middle‑class consumers who prize brand dignity and inviting boycotts among younger, more socially aware shoppers. Where once a risqué slogan might have produced an immediate spike in attention, cumulative controversy can lower brand equity and make partnerships with retailers and platforms more fraught.
More broadly, the episode illuminates how Chinese companies navigate a promotional environment in which social‑media virality, regulatory red lines and state‑directed cultural campaigns collide. Some firms have concluded that the short‑term benefits of “edge” marketing outweigh fines and mild censure; regulators, however, can escalate enforcement when such tactics become persistent or politically inconvenient. The result is a cat‑and‑mouse game with reputational costs that extend beyond any single advertisement.
Yeshù’s predicament offers a wider lesson for consumer brands in China and beyond: product quality can win repeat customers, but sustained trust requires marketing that respects social norms and employee dignity. The company’s obvious strengths—favourable taste perception and decades of market presence—mean it need not resort to cheap provocation. If penalties remain modest and attention continues to be convertible into sales, the firm may persist. If regulators, platforms or consumers decide the costs are rising, the business may be forced to recalibrate its strategy.