In 2024, Hawaiian Bros Island Grill, a chain founded in Oregon with over 60 locations, trademarked the phrase “aloha spirit.” The backlash from Native Hawaiians was swift — and the company surrendered the mark by February 2025.
That trademark fight is a single snapshot of a much larger question: Who gets to define, use, and profit from Hawaiian culture in the 21st century? The answer is being contested in courtrooms, newsrooms, art studios, and on the slopes of Mauna Kea. This article traces the challenges — from legal appropriation to media erasure — and the triumphs, including language revitalization, community-led journalism, and the reclamation of sacred practices like kapa (barkcloth) and māhū identity. It’s written for travelers, students, and anyone curious about how a living culture navigates a globalized world without being flattened into a logo.
Hawaiian cultural preservation is not a single movement but a set of overlapping struggles — intellectual property, media representation, religious practice, and tourism policy. The triumphs are real but uneven, and outsiders often misunderstand the difference between appreciation and appropriation. The most useful thing a visitor can do is listen to Native Hawaiian voices rather than consume a romanticized version.
| Area | Challenge | Triumph / Response | Key Year(s) |
|---|---|---|---|
| Intellectual Property | Trademarking of “aloha spirit,” “aloha,” “poke” by non-Hawaiian corporations | Hawaiian Bros surrendered “aloha spirit” mark after backlash; Paoakalani Declaration (2003) asserts collective rights | 2003, 2024–2025 |
| Media Representation | Legacy newsrooms largely white, no Hawaiian language experts; 74% white staff at Civil Beat (2018) | Kaheāwai Media (2025) centering Native Hawaiian voices; Hawaiʻi Community Journal rebrand; pipeline programs | 2018, 2025–2026 |
| Cultural Revival | Hula prohibited under colonization; kapa knowledge nearly lost; māhū identity stigmatized | Hawaiian Renaissance (1960s–70s) revived hula, kapa; Lehuauakea’s kapa acquired by Smithsonian NMAI (2024) | 1960s–70s, 2024 |
| Tourism & Access | Overtourism; restricted access to sacred sites; rising costs for practitioners | Community-based cultural tourism models; Kahoʻolawe restoration; Native Hawaiian self‑determination in planning | Ongoing |
These four areas are deeply connected. A trademark dispute over “aloha” reflects the same power imbalance that keeps Native Hawaiian journalists out of mainstream newsrooms. And the revival of kapa — a fabric once nearly lost — is part of a broader reclamation of identity that includes restoring the status of māhū as healers and teachers.
Who Owns “Aloha”? The Fight Over Intellectual Property
The most visible front in the battle for cultural preservation is trademark law. The U.S. system allows any business to register words and phrases — including Hawaiian ones — regardless of whether the owner has any connection to the culture. As of 2025, there were 1,161 live registered and pending U.S. trademarks containing the word “aloha,” many not based in Hawaiʻi. The Native Hawaiian Intellectual Property Rights Working Group, formed through a 2023 Hawaiʻi House resolution (HR114 HD1), is drafting policies to change that.
Vicky Holt Takamine, chair of the working group and executive director of the Pai Foundation, has been fighting appropriation since the early 2000s. In 2002, Disney copyrighted “He Mele No Lilo,” a song from Lilo & Stitch that combined two oli (chants) for King David Kalākaua and Queen Liliʻuokalani. Disney still holds the copyright; the film grossed $273 million, and a live‑action version was released in May 2025. Takamine told SFGate, “That’s part of appropriating cultural language or anybody’s language, saying, ‘I own this and you cannot use it.’”
The hula hoop — named by Wham‑O toy founders in the 1950s — is still a trademarked phrase. The mainstream image of hula as a simple hip‑swing dance erases its reality as a sacred storytelling tradition that passes down genealogy, prophecy, and history through chants and precise movements. That flattening is itself a form of appropriation.
In 2006, Native Hawaiian activists and farmers forced the University of Hawaiʻi to abandon patents on three varieties of taro, a plant tied to Hawaiian genealogy and sustenance. The precedent is important: when a living tradition involves a plant or a song, the community’s stake can be defended — but only with sustained organizing. The first Native Hawaiian Intellectual Property Rights Conference in 2003 produced the Paoakalani Declaration, which asserts collective rights to traditional knowledge, cultural expressions, and natural resources. Yet state and federal laws still allow anyone to use Hawaiian language in business names without requiring Native Hawaiian ownership.
News Deserts and Community Journalism: Reclaiming the Narrative
Journalism in Hawaiʻi has historically excluded Native Hawaiians. A 2018 Columbia Journalism Review investigation found that Civil Beat had never employed a Hawaiian language expert, and its staff was 74% white. The result: stories that lacked cultural and historical context, especially around land rights and the 2023 Lāhainā wildfires. The Maui News now prints only weekly, making it harder to meet Hawaiʻi’s Sunshine law requiring public meeting notices six days in advance.
Anuhea Kāneali‘i’s family has lived on the Papakōlea homestead — the oldest Native Hawaiian homestead — since the 1940s. On New Year’s Eve 2024, wildfire embers ignited mesh netting above their home. The fire received little media attention. Kāneali‘i became the first homestead firewise coordinator for the Hawai‘i Wildfire Management Organization and now leads Nā Leo o Papakōlea Firewise, a community partner of Kaheāwai Media. The gap in coverage is not accidental: it reflects a news ecosystem that prioritizes tourist‑facing stories over Native Hawaiian communities.
Stacey Alapai uses social media as a “newsfluencer” to document council meetings and community discussions when traditional coverage falls short. Meanwhile, the Hawai‘i Community Journal (rebranded from The Overstory) focuses on solutions journalism and systems thinking. Mea Aloha Spady of the Journal says that without Native Hawaiian perspectives, context about Hawaiʻi’s history and systemic challenges is often missed.
Revival Through Art and Identity: Kapa, Māhū, and the Hawaiian Renaissance
The Hawaiian Renaissance of the 1960s and 1970s sparked a revival of hula, language, and crafts that had been suppressed under colonial rule. One of the most striking contemporary examples is the work of Lehuauakea, a 30‑year‑old kapa artist. They studied barkcloth at the Pacific Northwest College of Art and taught themselves to make ʻohe kāpala — bamboo stamps used to imprint patterns on kapa.
Lehuauakea learned under master kapa practitioner Wesley Sen, who trained alongside the late Puanani Van Dorpe, a key figure in kapa revival. In November 2024, the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian acquired Lehuauakea’s piece “Puka Komo ‘Ekahi: Portal to Grant Permission.” The work is a contemporary kapa that reclaims both the craft and the artist’s identity as māhū — a term for third‑gender people that was stigmatized under colonial rule and is now being restored within its traditional context as healers and teachers.
Lehuauakea first encountered the word māhū at Kamehameha Schools, where it was used as a slur. They later learned about hina māhū through the documentary Kumu Hina and the work of Hina Wong‑Kalu, who helped reclaim the term. During Pride 2025, Lehuauakea partnered with HOSH to release kapa designs celebrating Native Hawaiian communities, including māhū.
If you visit a museum or gallery showing contemporary Hawaiian art, look for pieces that explicitly engage with cultural reclamation — like Lehuauakea’s kapa at the NMAI. Ask the curators or docents about the artist’s relationship to tradition. Avoid assuming that all “Hawaiian‑themed” art is made by Native Hawaiians; many mass‑market items are not.
The revival of kapa is part of a larger pattern. The Hawaiian Renaissance also saw the resurgence of ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi — the Hawaiian language — which now has immersion schools and a growing number of second‑language speakers. Still, the U.S. Census reports that just over 10% of Hawaiʻi’s population identifies as Native Hawaiian or other Pacific Islander, a proportion that has declined due to high housing costs and historical displacement.
Tourism, Access, and Self‑Determination
Tourism brought $22.7 billion in visitor spending to Hawaiʻi in 2024, supporting about one in five jobs. But overtourism on Maui, Hawaiʻi Island, and Kauaʻi has led to management measures: restricted parking at Hāna Highway, reduced vehicle access at Waipiʻo Valley. Native Hawaiian practitioners face rising costs and restricted access to sacred sites. The island of Kahoʻolawe, used for cultural practices and native plant restoration, is managed by the Kahoʻolawe Island Reserve Commission — but access remains limited and contested.
The shift toward community‑based cultural tourism is still in its early stages. Programs that center Native Hawaiian perspectives and priorities — such as those offered by the Kīpuka Kuleana initiative — are growing but represent a fraction of the overall tourism economy. Cultural practitioners emphasize that self‑determination in tourism planning is essential, not optional.
For visitors, the most meaningful engagement often comes through small, Native Hawaiian‑led tours. One option is a cultural tour that includes ʻāina‑based education and storytelling, rather than a generic luʻau. Viator lists cultural tours across the islands that can be filtered by operator background — though the platform doesn’t currently require Native Hawaiian ownership, so it pays to research the operator’s credentials.
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Context and Comparison: Western vs. Native Hawaiian Approaches to Cultural Stewardship
The table below highlights key differences in how cultural knowledge is treated under Western legal and media systems versus Native Hawaiian frameworks.
| Dimension | Western / U.S. System | Native Hawaiian Framework |
|---|---|---|
| Ownership of words/phrases | Individual trademark registration, no cultural affiliation required | Collective, lineage‑based stewardship; Paoakalani Declaration asserts communal rights |
| Journalism model | Extractive, deadline‑driven, often lacking cultural context | Reciprocal, council‑based, relationship‑centered (e.g., Kaheāwai Media) |
| Art and craft | Copyright protects individual creators, but traditional knowledge often falls into public domain | Kapa and oli are living practices; community consent is expected for reproduction |
| Tourism | Volume‑driven, generic experiences, limited accountability to host communities | Kīpuka Kuleana model: Native Hawaiian‑led, education‑focused, limited group sizes |
The most common outsider misconception is that “Hawaiian culture” is a single, static thing. In reality, practices vary by island, family lineage, and generation. A hula style from Kauaʻi differs from one on Hawaiʻi Island. The revival of kapa is not universal — some families never stopped making it, while others are learning from historical records. Treat any generalization with skepticism.
- Cultural preservation in Hawaiʻi is a legal, media, artistic, and economic struggle — all at once.
- Outsiders can support it by choosing Native Hawaiian‑led tours, reading community journalism, and avoiding products that trademark Hawaiian words without cultural ties.
- The most resilient preservation efforts are rooted in reciprocity: giving back time, attention, and resources rather than simply consuming.
Questions Readers Ask
Can I use the word “aloha” in my business name?
Legally, yes — U.S. trademark law does not require any connection to Hawaiʻi. But doing so risks contributing to cultural appropriation. Many Native Hawaiians consider the commercial use of “aloha” disrespectful, especially when the business is not Native‑owned.
The Native Hawaiian Intellectual Property Rights Working Group is working on state‑level legislation to address this. For now, a good rule of thumb: if you’re not Native Hawaiian, avoid using Hawaiian words as brand elements.
What is the Paoakalani Declaration?
Adopted at the first Native Hawaiian Intellectual Property Rights Conference in 2003, it asserts that Native Hawaiians have collective rights to their traditional knowledge, cultural expressions, and natural resources. It is a foundational document for the movement, though it has no legal force under U.S. law.
Is it okay to take photos at a hula performance?
It depends. Many public performances allow photography, but some hula — especially oli (chant) or hula ʻāina (place‑based) — is considered sacred. Always ask permission first. If a practitioner says no, respect that. Never record a ceremony without explicit consent.
How can I support Native Hawaiian journalism?
Subscribe to Kaheāwai Media or the Hawaiʻi Community Journal. Both are small, community‑funded outlets that center Native Hawaiian voices. Avoid relying solely on legacy outlets that have historically excluded those perspectives.
What’s the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?
Appreciation involves learning about a practice with respect, often in a context led by community members. Appropriation takes elements out of context for commercial or personal gain, often without credit or consent. The key question: who benefits, and who gets to tell the story?
The Future of Hawaiian Cultural Preservation
The battles over “aloha” trademarks, newsroom diversity, kapa revival, and tourism access are all part of the same story: a living culture insisting on its own terms. The triumphs — the surrender of a trademark, the acquisition of a kapa piece by the Smithsonian, the launch of a community newsroom — are real but fragile. Each one required years of organizing, legal work, and relationship‑building. What’s still unresolved is whether the broader systems of law, media, and tourism can adapt to a model of stewardship rather than extraction. For anyone who cares about Hawaiian culture, the most honest answer is to stay engaged, listen carefully, and avoid the temptation to treat the islands as a backdrop for someone else’s story.
For a deeper look at how oral tradition keeps history alive, read our guide on Moʻolelo: Passing Down Hawaiian History Through Storytelling.
Sources and further reading
SFGate. “Hawaiians tackle cultural appropriation as trademarking of ‘aloha spirit’ backfires.” 2025. 🔗
The Objective. “Legacy Journalism in Hawaii Has Long Excluded Native Hawaiians.” 2026. 🔗
Civil Beat. “Jeta: The Stories We Fight to Preserve.” 2026. 🔗
Washington Post. “Hawaiʻi cultural tourism shift.” 2025. 🔗
Related reading on IslandHopperGuides
ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi: Reviving the Language and Soul of the Islands — explores the revival of Hawaiian language and its role in cultural identity.
Respecting Kapu: Navigating Sacred Spaces and Customs in Hawaii — practical guidance on how to engage with sacred sites and protocols.
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