I hate lying.
So what, may you ask, am I doing working in advertising? Well, the truth is I just happen to be very good at it.
The lying, that is, not the advertising.
Nothing malicious, just a little grease here and there to help everyday life grind gracelessly along, in all its undignified certainty: the countless humiliations, the unrealized ambition, the sexual dissatisfaction, the mutually-assured marital ennui, the ungrateful kids, the certainty that Egypt will never reach the World Cup in my lifetime, the inevitable infirmity sans any kind of insight, and, eventually, the inescapable fact that we’re all going to die.
As you’ve probably discerned by now, I like to start my column with a cheerful, uplifting thought. It’s a gift.
So is that all there is to advertising? Is it really just a tissue of lies wrapped in a shroud of respectability, in order to flog substandard products to the unwashed masses?
To quote Vicky Pollard: “Yeah-but-no-but-yeah. *
Advertising is basically an incorrigible optimist, albeit one for hire. It gets paid to transmit this optimism, on behalf of its clients to people like you. It doesn’t do bad news.
Advertising is all about the good news. No exceptions. If there’s bad news, it ignores it. If the law forces them to disclose it, they put it in small print. If the bad news gets so big that it can’t be ignored, the client doesn’t need an ad agency; they need a PR firm.
Or a lawyer.
What you need to come to terms with is that advertising is in charge of selling things, not looking out for your interest. That’s somebody else’s job.
Oh, right. Yours. **
Advertising is simply selling, with make-up on. It’s the icing on a cake, not the cake itself. It’s no different to what a lettuce-seller does at a Friday market: he tries to convince you his lettuce is the best lettuce out there.
Advertisers won’t knowingly lie to you because most countries (including believe it or not, this one) have an advertising standards body that will spank them like a stockbroker with a submission fetish, if they mislead. But there’s an even more compelling reason they won’t do it: reputation.
So what are their tools for telling you good news, without resorting to mendacity?
First up, is honesty by omission. They tell you the good news and simply neglect to mention the bad. For example, two studies: one proves the refreshing properties of Cola A, while the other provides a link between Cola A and male-breast enlargement. Which do you think will show up in their next TV commercial?
It’s safe to say men don’t really want big breasts. At least, not on themselves.
Another tool that ad agencies rely on is research such as focus groups or surveys. Research is helpful but far from impartial. A biased (or incompetent) researcher can sway a subject through the phrasing of his questions. Research also that when people participate in a study, they’re more concerned about not looking stupid.
And yes, I just used research to discredit research, so clearly I’m not afraid of looking stupid.
Then there’s the bastard-child of research: statistics. Statistics are impressive and seemingly irrefutable. After all, you can’t argue with numbers, can you? Of course not. The average human being does, after all, have one testicle and one breast. It’s also possible to drown in a river with an average depth of six inches.
I like what Aaron Levenstein said about statistics being like bikinis: what they show is suggestive but what they conceal is vital.
That last point is the main reason I never liked Baywatch.
The truth is that the truth is subjective. And ads, like people, only present a version of the truth as they see it or – as it is in their interest to see it. If you want the truth, look within, grasshopper, look within. All advertising does is offer to sell you something. All we can do is exercise common sense.
Of course, here’s the thing about common sense: It’s just not all that common. More on that next week.
* Actually, I wanted to do about three lines of yeah-but-no-but-yeahs, because I get paid by the word. My editor took them out.** Also, the government but they have what we call a limited responsibility; they’re only responsible for making sure it doesn’t kill you or make you sick. After all, it’s harder to pay taxes when you’re dead.
Mohammed Nassarwas kidnapped at birth and forced to work in advertising, in Cairo, New York and London. Today, his main concern is that archaeologists will one day stumble upon his desk, debate the value of his profession and judge him.
