BrewDog Sold Fans Equity in the Company for $100 Million. That Stock Might Now Be Worthless.
Beware, consumer-investors, the promises of companies that claim to be upending the system or casting off the shackles of the old order. You may think you’re getting in on the ground floor of a business venture that cares more about average people than some soulless corporation, only to find out that your favorite “renegade” businessman actually just dreams of … cashing in by building a soulless corporation. It’s a tale as old as time, and not one that should shock anyone, but for 220,000 people who bought “shares” of “equity” in Scottish brewing giant BrewDog throughout the 2010s, it still probably stings a bit anyway. As news of the large global craft brewery’s impending and long-expected sale arrived, which may break the company up into many smaller entities and pieces, the obvious thought on the mind of those hundreds of thousands of “equity punks” must have been: “Does my ownership actually mean anything?”
The most likely answer is simply a resounding “no.” Thanks to BrewDog selling a portion of the company to private equity (TSG Consumer Partners) back in 2017, and thanks to the fact that TSG was given “preference shares” that entitle it to the first profits from any sale, the company’s rank and file investors now seem quite likely to end up with nothing at all for their supposed equity. This is largely due to the company’s valuation having fallen substantially in recent years since the pandemic, amid the malaise that has gripped the craft beer world in the post COVID-19 era. Craft beer’s long, dark night of the soul has been predictably rough for BrewDog, with the company announcing the closure of 10 of its branded bars in the U.K. in July of last year, and then closing multiple bars in the U.S. in early 2026. Just last month, it likewise announced it was permanently closing its distillery in its hometown of Aberdeen, Scotland. It’s a big fall from grace for a once-nimble company that built its image on zany publicity stunts, like once putting a 120 proof beer within a bottle contained in a taxidermized squirrel.
brewdog has basically always been “the cards against humanity of beer”
— Patrick Cosmos (@veryimportant.lawyer) Feb 19, 2026 at 11:07 AM
Left in the lurch are the 220,000 people that the company has for decades referred to as its “equity punks,” ever since it first sold a round of shares in 2009. Since then, across seven separate rounds of crowdfunding that took place between 2009-2021, the company has raised more than $100 million by selling shares directly to its consumers. For those investing in small amounts, the equity punks program more or less functioned like a fan club or membership, with benefits that included modest discounts at BrewDog bars, access to the brewery’s annual festival in Aberdeen, or a free beer on your birthday. Shareholders could even sell their shares back to the company during special “trading days” hosted by BrewDog, but there hasn’t been one of those since 2022, and the company seems to be hoping at this point that equity punks will simply stop asking about it.
For some of the investors, however, BrewDog loomed as what they genuinely believed would be a windfall opportunity, one that they hoped would eventually be taken public and listed on U.K. stock exchanges. Over the years, people like 58-year-old Richard Fisher, interviewed recently by the BBC, invested more than $16,000 into BrewDog equity that is now likely worthless. They admired its “maverick, independent, to a certain extent rebellious” image, ignoring the bad press that continuously swirled around BrewDog figures like co-founder James Watt, who was repeatedly accused of tyrannical management practices, employee abuse and sexual harassment. Once investors had dug themselves into a substantial equity position in BrewDog, it was seemingly hard to ever think of pivoting without making a profit.
“I genuinely thought Brewdog would go public, be listed on the stock market with the freedom to buy and sell shares and there was potential to make a bit of profit,” Fisher said to BBC.
For those equity punks who were paying attention, TSG’s $286 million investment in the company in 2017, in which it acquired a 22.3% stake, should probably have been seen as the beginning of the end of their shares meaning anything in terms of actual, concrete ownership. The spiraling valuation of the company, meanwhile, did the rest. As The Guardian‘s analysis of their own U.K. brand put it:
Analysts have previously estimated that [TSG] can claim £800m from any sale. In the last Equity for Punks funding round, in 2021, £30m shares were sold at £25.15 each, implying a valuation of about £2bn before a rumored stock market float. At a private auction on the platform Asset Match in September 2022, shares were sold for £6.50 each, implying a valuation of less than £520m. If the sale price of the company is less than TSG’s claim on the proceeds of any deal, that would leave nothing for small investors.
And “nothing” is what the current management of BrewDog has promised to those 220,000 consumer investors/equity punks. Even as their onetime most devoted fandom has complained and gnashed its teeth on BrewDog equity punk online forums about the fact that their shares have become meaningless, current chief executive James Taylor has avoided making any definitive statements on whether they would be compensated for the part of the company that they ostensibly own. In a vague statement posted to those forums, credited to Taylor, he said only the following: “It remains business as usual across our bars, venues and breweries. We remain fully committed to our customers, our crew, our partners – and to you, our Equity Punk community. Your continued support is a fundamental part of Brewdog’s journey, and we will keep you updated as the process progresses.” Oh yeah, I’m sure the punks will appreciate that.
Brewdog, and more specifically founder James Watt (whose awfulness became more obvious over time) fell in love with their own legend.
They believed Brewdog represented a unique brand vibe and range of beers which had CREATED the market gap, rather than just been right-place-right-time to fill it /2
— John Bull (@garius.bsky.social) Feb 16, 2026 at 4:28 AM
Naturally, original BrewDog founders James Watt and Martin Dickie still made out like bandits, despite the company being constantly wracked with turmoil and negative publicity in the last half decade. BrewDog has weathered everything from the aforementioned company-wide complaints of sexism and harassment, to a stunning open letter from 100 former employees that condemned the company’s workplace culture and conditions. Martin Dickie left the company in August, immediately announcing a new medical cannabis start-up as he seemingly looked to get back in on the ground floor of another growth industry (there’s no recreational cannabis in the U.K.) he can eventually sell. James Watt, ever the combative public face of BrewDog, stepped down as CEO in May of 2024 after years of constant complaints and PR disasters, although he remained on in the capacity of “Captain and Co-Founder” and retained his own equity stake. Want to take a guess as to whether that equity is assessed as having any value?
As an actual beer-selling entity, BrewDog managed to persist and grow for a longer period than many of its other peers, shrugging off criticism and drama that probably could have felled many companies. In particular, it still makes some of the better non-alcoholic craft beer on the market. Now, however, it finally looks to be in something closer to freefall. For a company that once prided itself as an anarchist, punk middle finger to corporate greed, BrewDog’s ownership certainly learned to emulate what they claimed to detest in positively Orwellian fashion. What was once a scrappy little street dog is now welcome at the table with the refined gentlemen … and all the “equity punks” who got it there have been kicked to the curb.