Adland_ Searching for the Meaning of Life on a Branded Planet - James P. Othmer [79]
Working with this information, creatives then conceived of an execution that portrayed an everyday dad as less than sitcom-dad goofy for a change, and even a tad heroic. The result: a spot called “Dad’s Making Dinner,” which shows children around the world frantically announcing this fact to their siblings, not in horror, but with excitement, because Dad is bringing home big bags of food adorned with Golden Arches. Then, because experience planners noticed that these same dads spend a lot of time not only watching sports (no surprise here) but also online, perhaps playing violent real-time video games to act out their unfulfilled aggressions, we might see online teasers in addition to traditional, full-up TV ads on the expected sporting events.
Other than the fact that a lot of people (me included) are spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about hamburgers, the above scenario doesn’t seem particularly evil to me. I know, fast food makes us fat and lazy, and it’s filled with preservatives and cholesterol and hormones that make us addicted to programs like The Jerry Springer Show. But it’s not crack. And we do live in a market economy. And the way in which the agency went about forming its strategy and executing its creative product didn’t seem particularly insidious. A simple, human truth was unearthed, needs and markets were identified, and a message was created and revealed in places and media where it would resonate most.
To a morally conflicted ex-adman it kind of made sense. In fact, the more I spoke with Kline, a veteran of premier creative shops, including Fallon and Wieden+Kennedy (where he oversaw Nike’s global brand), the more I was reminded of a section in The Hidden Persuaders where Packard actually admitted that “a great many advertising men … in fact, numerically a majority, still do a straightforward job and accept us as rational citizens (whether we are or not).” Not only that, these admen, Packard continued, “fill an important and constructive role in our society. Advertising, for example, not only plays a vital role in our economic growth but is a colorful, diverting aspect of American life; and many of the creations of ad men are tasteful, honest works or artistry.”
Kline was hardly the supreme commander of the evil probers; he was a smart guy linking products with desires, as are most people in advertising (other than the smart part).
But Packard’s critique still lingered in my mind, if not in the very walls of Burnett’s offices. Fiftysome years ago Packard had spent a lot of time doing research in Chicago, and “the depth boys” at Leo Burnett had figured prominently in his book as unabashed persuaders.
In fact, a highlight of The Hidden Persuaders is the case history of how, with the introduction of masculine, western imagery and new packaging, Burnett transformed the image of Marlboro from a feminine, filter-tipped brand to the smoke of the rugged horseback-riding cowboy, capturing a huge portion of the male market share while still retaining the bulk of the brand’s female smokers.
The story of the Marlboro Man is the stuff of advertising/branding legend. But that was before the rise of consumerism. Before the surgeon general. I asked Kline if he’d ever considered whether the research findings his department unearthed might be used for less than ethical purposes. For instance, to manipulate or corrupt rather than provoke and inform?
I expected a dismissive laugh, or a quick call to security for two men in Jolly Green Giant suits to escort me from the building, but Kline smiled and shook his head. “There’s too much at stake for the brands we’re working with. We’re basically trying to figure out what people want and connect