My friend Jody Bottum once suggested that there are three basic stories in fiction: (1) boy meets girl; (2) a stranger came to town; and (3) there once was a man a long way from home. I’ve long held that the same is true for advertising. Advertisements can be classified into three basic pitches: (1) Acme Widgets can cure the common cold; (2) Ed McMahon uses Acme Widgets–so should you; and (3) if you don’t use Acme Widgets, your friends and family will disdain you.
In recent weeks, however, watching the NCAA tournament, I’ve discovered a fourth genus. The line advertisers are suddenly taking is that their product’s greatest weakness is actually a tremendous strength.
The first ad to suggest the need for a revision in my taxonomy was from McDonald’s, a commercial featuring ripe tomatoes and perfect eggs, all dancing and proclaiming how wonderfully fresh the chain’s food is. Certainly McDonald’s has improved since I flipped burgers there in the early ’90s, and its fare has its virtues. But freshness isn’t one of them; the quality of McDonald’s produce is among its least attractive features. Yet the admen have decided to overcome this weakness by simply asserting that the opposite is true. You can’t help admiring their brass.
Other advertisers have followed suit. AT&T Wireless, for example, is my cell carrier, and I’m quite happy with it. It has an extensive data network and supports the iPhone, which is my favorite gadget of all time. I’m so partial to the iPhone that I don’t mind AT&T’s spotty cellular phone coverage, which lags far behind industry leader Verizon. But what does AT&T tout in its ads? “The world’s best coverage.” (Note it doesn’t say “largest,” which would be quantifiable.)
Then there’s delivery pizza giant Papa John’s. During my bachelor days in Washington, Papa John’s was the pizza of choice, terrible though it was, because you could get something like four pies for $12. On a calories-per-cent basis it rivaled straight butter for value. Today, Papa John’s ads boast “Better Ingredients, Better Pizza.” Which is flat untrue. Why not just tell us “Lesser Ingredients, Cheaper Pizza”? Why should Papa John be ashamed of who he is?
The ads that irritate me the most are from Lowe’s, the big-box home improvement chain. Their pitch is that customer service separates them from the competition. In defense of Lowe’s, they seem to have a better selection of higher quality goods at competitive prices. That’s why I patronize them. But my typical trip to Lowe’s involves my trekking from paint to plumbing to appliances just to find someone to answer a question about light bulbs. If I do find a Lowe’s employee–not a sure thing–it’s a pleasant surprise if he speaks even broken English.
Of course it’s silly to be bothered by commercials of questionable veracity–one might as well complain that water is wet. But didn’t advertising used to be more straightforwardly fabulous? Madison Avenue would make impossible or ridiculous suggestions: Use Old Spice and Tricia Helfer will be yours! Your neighbors will despise you unless you drive a Cadillac! Those weren’t real ads, but a short while ago the National Association of Realtors really did claim that “It’s a great time to buy or sell a home,” inviting suckers–excuse me, “homeowners”–to abandon themselves to the dream of an economic-growth perpetual-motion machine. That’s doing dishonesty the old-fashioned way.
By contrast, the new advertising insists on the opposite of the particulars we know. Take the latest political examples of the genus, from Barack Obama’s campaign for the Democratic nomination.
Like Budweiser or Geico or any other big business, Obama has a number of different ad themes running on parallel tracks. His messages about “hope” are the classic promise that the product (Obama) will deliver all sorts of magic. He also has celebrity endorsements. His “Dip-Dive” video features dozens of beautiful, famous people mooning over Obama and inviting you to join them in their crusade for a better America.
But Obama also engages in the new advertising, presenting his liabilities as strengths. The candidate with the most startling racialist ties in decades puts himself forward as the first postracial candidate. The most doctrinaire liberal since McGovern makes a show of striking nonideological poses. And the least legislatively productive candidate puts himself forward as the bridge across the partisan divide–when it’s actually his competitors who have the history of bipartisan accomplishment.
As I said, no point getting wound up. Advertising has always been like this–ever since a certain serpent started hawking apples.
JONATHAN V. LAST
