The Brand Diaries: In N Out Burger

Lynsi Snyder and the Paradox of Leadership

A note from Mack: This is the first edition of The Brand Diaries! The Brand Diaries will feature some of my favorite people on Substack talking about their favorite brand. And Neela is my favorite person of all on Substack, so it is an honor to have Neela kick off The Brand Diaries by telling us the story of why she loves In-N-Out Burger:

Let me start with a confession.

I used to judge companies by their political affiliations.

I was about twenty-seven, living in New York City.

My social circle, a devout liberal enclave, had just reinforced that supporting businesses meant endorsing their values - in the products, the politics, and even the tweets from their CEOs. So, naturally, every dollar I spent was a vote for the world I wanted to create.

With every purchase decision, I weighed the company’s stance on climate change, racial justice, and LGBTQ+ rights, whispering my consumer prayers into the algorithmic ears of targeted ads. It felt as good a place as any for morality to hang out.

I didn’t just look for quality, price, or the usual consumer stuff.

I looked for companies that wouldn’t donate to politicians I hated.

I looked for CEOs who wouldn’t say things that made my blood boil. And when I found contradictions, I got mad—not at myself for the impossible purity test, but at capitalism for not delivering.

That’s the first problem with consumer ethics.

They give us a framework to make sense of our spending but also set us up for disappointment.

The problem is political judgment is often built on quicksand.

When I judged companies and their leaders based on political affiliations, I wasn’t really judging their politics at all. I was judging a caricature, a simplified version that fit neatly into my worldview’s villain role. It’s like condemning a book after reading only its most controversial paragraph.

What if—and stay with me here—what if our political affiliations aren’t perfect reflections of our values? What if they’re compromises, weighted averages of dozens of issues where we’ve had to pick sides even when the sides don’t quite fit?

Consider this - the CEO who donates to conservative causes might do so because of specific economic policies while personally championing environmental initiatives. The liberal business owner might fight for social justice while implementing workplace practices that undermine those very values. The contradiction isn’t the exception—it’s the rule.

The most dangerous part of our judgmental approach isn’t that it’s unfair (though it is). It’s that it creates an incentive for performative politics rather than substantive action. We’ve built a system where saying the right things publicly matters more than doing the right things privately. We reward the rainbow logo change in June while ignoring the company’s treatment of workers in December.

But I digress – let’s get back to this story!

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

In 2018, when I was about to leave NYC for California, I heard the name In-N-Out for the first time.

I know, I know. Living under a rock, Neela, but it’s not an East Coast chain, and I’d never visited California before 2018.

My then-client told me to make sure to have an In-N-Out burger first thing after getting to Cali. At the time, I was somewhat clinging to my religion, although I have to be honest, it was hanging by its last thread. Which meant I didn’t eat beef.

He said at least try their milkshakes.

Okay, I can do that.

The first time I entered In-N-Out was a full year later. I had transitioned successfully from angel to satan and was ready to eat their famous burgers. It was really good, and if you’re anything like me, when I eat good food, I usually go down rabbit holes.

What does it contain? How is it made? Yadda yadda.

So I started googling.

The Woman Behind the Burger

Lynsi Snyder inherited the business at just 17 years old, following the tragic deaths of her father and uncle. Most people counted her out. How could a teenager, barely out of high school, run one of the most beloved burger chains in America?

But Lynsi didn’t just run it—she thrived.

Under her leadership, In-N-Out has maintained its reputation for quality, consistency, and employee satisfaction. She’s one of the few CEOs who consistently earns sky-high ratings on Glassdoor, with employees praising her for treating them like family. In an industry known for high turnover and low wages, In-N-Out stands out. Employees are paid well, offered benefits, and given opportunities for advancement.

And yet, Lynsi Snyder is no stranger to controversy.

The Politics of a Burger Empire

Lynsi is a proud Republican and has made significant contributions to conservative causes, including the Trump campaign. For some, this is a dealbreaker. How can you support a brand whose owner votes against your values?

They’re calling for boycotts.

Neela goes down the rabbit hole further.

In addition to supporting Republican entities, In-N-Out has donated to “Californians for Jobs and a Strong Economy”, a PAC dedicated to electing pro-business Democrats.

But they don’t say this stuff in the media.

Like I said, political judgment = quicksand.

Yes, people can have beliefs and values, but they can also be smart enough to be fucking good leaders, and she is one of the best examples of leadership out there.

She’s built a company culture that values people—both customers and employees—above all else. In-N-Out’s success isn’t just about the burgers. It’s also about the way the business is run.

Lynsi has managed to scale a family-owned business without compromising its core values. She’s expanded the chain while maintaining its commitment to quality and employee welfare. And in today’s polarized world, it’s rare to find a leader who can separate their personal beliefs from their professional responsibilities. Lynsi Snyder is one of those rare exceptions.

In-N-Out’s recipe for success

In the midst of this wage war, this fast-food chain has managed to keep its prices reasonable while paying workers well above minimum wage.

In-N-Out Burger, the California-based chain that has achieved near-mythical status among fast-food enthusiasts, has been paying its workers well above minimum wage for years.

Even before the pandemic hit, when California’s minimum wage was $12 an hour, In-N-Out started employees at $13 an hour. As of 2023, with the state minimum wage at $15.50, In-N-Out starts its workers at around $19 an hour.

With California’s minimum wage for fast food workers rising to $20 an hour in 2024, In-N-Out has stayed ahead of the curve by paying $22 — $23 an hour.

Despite these higher wages, the chain has managed to keep its food prices relatively low compared to other fast-food chains. While there have been price increases, they haven’t been as sharp as elsewhere.

As of early 2024, a basic hamburger at In-N-Out costs around $4.00, while similar burgers at other fast-food chains are priced between $5 and $7 or even higher.

This pricing strategy is even more impressive when you consider that In-N-Out also pays managers very well. Store managers at In-N-Out can make more than $160,000 a year, which is higher than the average salary for many corporate positions.

So, how do they do it?

In-N-Out’s success comes down to a few key factors:

A simple menu: Unlike other fast-food chains that seem to introduce a new, increasingly complex burger every other week (I’m looking at you, “Triple Bacon Jalapeno Popper Extreme Burger”), In-N-Out keeps it simple. Fewer menu items mean lower inventory costs and faster preparation times.

Vertical integration: In-N-Out owns its own meat processing facilities, allowing it to control costs and quality.

Slow expansion: Rather than spreading itself thin, In-N-Out expands slowly and strategically, ensuring each new location can maintain the company’s high standards.

Employee retention: By paying higher wages and offering good benefits, In-N-Out enjoys lower turnover rates, reduces training costs, and maintains a more experienced workforce.

No franchising: All In-N-Out locations are company-owned, allowing for consistent quality control and pricing.

This one is my favorite.

No shiny object syndrome: In-N-Out’s approach to service is refreshingly low-tech. They don’t rely on an ordering app, and I’ve counted as many as three touch points of human-to-human communication before getting your burger.

Their workers in California are notably helpful and engaged — something I can personally attest to as a fan of their burgers. Their emphasis on personal interaction and high-quality service complements their impressive pricing strategy.

It’s a business model that seems almost too good to be true, like a diet that promises you can lose weight by eating more cheese. (If anyone invents that diet, please contact me immediately.)

So, what can we learn from In-N-Out’s success?

Well, for one, it shows that it’s possible to pay workers a living wage without resorting to exorbitant prices or sneaky surcharges.

Sometimes, simpler is better. And most importantly, it proves that you don’t have to choose between supporting workers and enjoying affordable meals.

Now, I can already hear the critics: “But flipping burgers isn’t rocket science! Why should we pay them more?” Let’s unpack that bun of baloney, shall we?

Sure, these workers might not be solving string theory, but they’re basically real-life superheroes without the capes.

I’ve seen a worker juggling a phone in one hand, a sizzling hot plate in the other, all while trying to remember if customer #5 wanted their dressing on the side or if that was customer #6. Oh, and don’t forget to smile!

That’s a class in patience, multitasking, and conflict resolution.

Moreover, these workers are the backbone of an industry that feeds millions daily. Their work may not be rocket science, but it’s a vital service that keeps our society functioning smoothly.

The Irony of Certainty

The thing that’s supposed to bring us clarity—our moral judgments—often becomes the source of our greatest contradictions. Why?

Because most ethical frameworks thrive on certainty.

They tell us, “This is good, this is bad, this is right, this is wrong.”

But certainty is a dangerous thing in a complicated world. It leaves no room for doubt, for curiosity, for the possibility that someone else’s truth might be just as valid as yours.

I saw this happen in my own head, where my values coexisted uncomfortably with my growing appreciation for a company led by someone whose politics I didn’t share.

On the surface, it seemed like a clash of worlds. But scratch that surface, and you’ll find that human decency transcends political tribes.

And it’s not just food. Look at clothing brands. Look at tech companies.

Look at the way we cling to our consumer identities, our tribes, our “sides,” even when they’re clearly not serving us.

We’d rather be righteous than thoughtful.

Can We Fix It?

Maybe. But it starts with acknowledging that our judgment of others is just that—judgment. It’s human-made and constantly evolving. It’s not divine, it’s not infallible, and it’s certainly not worth dividing our society over.

A suggestion: What if we practiced “operational assessment” instead of “ideological assessment”?

This means evaluating organizations not by what they claim to believe but by what they actually do. How do they treat employees? How do they impact communities? How do they respond to criticism? This asks us to be anthropologists rather than prosecutors—to observe behaviors instead of demanding statements of faith.

Imagine a world where we cared more about a company’s employee turnover rate than its CEO’s voting record. Where we valued how a business treats its lowest-paid workers over how its marketing department frames social issues. Where we measured ethical behavior by counting concrete actions rather than counting political donation dollars.

It would certainly require more work from us. It’s easier to check if someone’s on our “team” than to investigate if they’re doing good in complicated ways.

But this strategy might just save us from the exhausting purity spirals that leave us all feeling judged, defensive, and isolated.

One practical solution might be to accept “nuanced consumption.” It’s the idea that you can make your consumer choices firmly but gently, like a bird in your hand—tight enough to have standards but loose enough not to crush yourself with impossible purity tests.

It’s about recognizing that your ethics are yours and that someone else’s approach might be equally valid, even if it doesn’t look like yours.

Another solution? Dialogue, but of a different kind.

Where you ask questions that begin with “help me understand why...” instead of “how could you possibly...”

Where you’re willing to be wrong, not just about facts, but about intentions.

A Fast Food Epiphany

I don’t boycott companies over their owners’ politics anymore, only actions. (Though corporate political donations should be more transparent.) And if I’m being honest, I don’t think my consumer choices alone will save the world these days.

I’m caught in the liminal space between idealism and pragmatism, purity and compromise. I don’t know if there’s a perfect way to consume ethically in a capitalist system, or if my individual choices really matter, or just the vast, indifferent hum of the market. But here’s what I do know: I still hope.

I hope for wisdom. I hope for the courage to question my own bias.

And I hope for a world where we can hold our judgments lightly, where we can disagree without destroying each other, where we can find common ground even in our differences.

The truth is ethical consumption isn’t going anywhere. We need it. It gives us meaning, purpose, and a sense of agency. But it also has the power to divide us, to distract us, to turn us against each other.

The question isn’t whether we can live without our values. It’s whether we can learn to live with the values of others—and with each other—without losing our minds in the process.

So, what do you think? Can we do it? Let’s talk about it.

And in the meantime, I’ll keep enjoying my Double-Double, animal style, from a company led by a woman who—despite our political differences—understands that treating people well isn’t a partisan issue. It’s just good leadership.

Thank you SO much Neela!

Please make sure you are following Neela! She’s one of the best community builders I’ve ever seen. If you aren’t sure how to build engagement, just shadow Neela’s feed, every day is a masterclass in community management. She’s also one of the best people you will meet on Substack. Or anywhere, really.

Oh and don’t forget to read Neela’s substack today, where I will be guest-posting!

See you on Thursday!

Mack