Once I spoke at a University of Chicago event for graduating
seniors. I represented advertising which was depressing on so many levels.
There were groups of doctors, lawyers, judges, bankers, investors. And then a
ragtag group of “creatives.” I was put next to a boutique jewelry designer. By
boutique, I mean home-made.
I remember one student asking about subliminal advertising.
The way she asked the question, it wasn’t if it existed or not, it was how it
was deployed.
I explained that there’s no such thing. That marketers and
advertisers are lucky enough if we make it to the threshold of the liminal let
alone the sub part of it. I think I then went on to compare an advertisement to
a SCUD missile. Not a lot of accuracy. Packs a punch if it reaches someone, but
hardly a sophisticated weapon. The necromancy of subliminal advertising was way
beyond our reach. She looked at me suspiciously. Obviously I doth protest too
much.
Along the same lines, I recall this event: my wife at the
time and I were living in San Francisco and we had a nanny. I don’t remember
her too well: young, Berkeley, pretty, Birkenstocks. And very nice, or so I
thought. But one day, according to my ex, the nanny asked her what I did for a
living. “He’s in advertising.”
Immediately her mood darkened. “Oh, you mean he makes people
want things they don’t need.”
My ex responded brilliantly. “Only on his good days.”