| |
“We Know
What Matters to You”
Jean Kilbourne
A recent ad for Thule car
rack systems features a small child in the backseat of a car,
protected only by a seatbelt. Next to the child, assorted
sporting gear is carefully strapped into a carseat. The
headline says, “We Know What Matters to You.” In case one
misses the point, further copy adds, “Your gear is a
priority.”
The ad
is meant to be funny, of course. Taken individually, I suppose
it might seem amusing or, at worst, tasteless. As someone who
has studied ads for a long time, however, I see it as part of a
pattern, one of many ads that state or imply that products are
more important than people. It is also one of many ads that
objectify and trivialize children, such as an ad for Joop! jeans
that features a baby on a leash with the headline, “A child is
the ultimate pet.”
Some ads
hark back to the days when children were supposed to be “seen
but not heard.” “Quiet kids. How’s that for a product
benefit?” says an ad for an SUV that comes with a TV/video
cassette player. And a candy bar ad asks, “Kids talking too
much? Give ‘em a Chewy Grand Slam. . . . Really, really
chewy.” Do we need this kind of message in a culture in which
people say they spend about forty minutes each week in
meaningful conversation with their children?
Sometimes children are
portrayed as getting in the way of our pleasure. “We can get
rid of the pain in your neck but not the cause of it,” declares
an ad for physical therapy featuring a woman dragging a little
boy out of a park. Although the copy assures us that “Of
course, you’d never want to get rid of the little guy...,” the
initial impression is of shocking hostility. Of course, the
creators of this ad use shock to get our attention; they intend
no larger consequence. But an image of potential child abuse,
in a culture in which millions of children are abused and
neglected, is used to attract our attention and perhaps to make
us laugh.
More
often, sentimental images of children are used to evoke deep
feelings of love and protectiveness which are then connected to
the product. “Can a shoe hug you like a tiny hand?” asks an ad
featuring a woman cradling a child in her arms. The answer, of
course, is no -- but that’s not what the ad implies. Whatever
emotional response we might have to the image is immediately
transferred to the product.
Many ads
that seem to be about the relationship between a parent and a
child turn out to be glorifying the relationship between the
parent and a product. “There are some things you wouldn’t trade
for the world,” says an ad featuring a beautiful woman wearing a
fur coat and holding a child rather stiffly on her lap. The
copy continues, “If you don’t feel that way about your fur, why
not trade it for a new one?”
A
stunning example of this kind of confusion between products and
people occurs in an ad featuring a girl running into the open
arms of a woman, presumably her mother. The copy says, “Open
your eyes. What’s important is right in front of you.” One
hopes, expects, that what is important to this woman is her
child. But no, it turns out the ad is referring to her
Timberland shoes. If we take time to reflect on this, the
message is truly awful. The ad explicitly states that the shoes
are more important than the child to this woman. But we don’t
usually pay conscious attention to ads, so the message slides
right by … into our subconscious. One ad like this wouldn’t
matter at all, but the constant repetition of the belief that
products are more important than people has a devastating impact
on our families, our communities, and our society as a whole.
Jean Kilbourne, EdD, is
internationally recognized for her pioneering work on alcohol
and tobacco advertising and the image of women in advertising.
She is the author of Can’t Buy My Love: How Advertising
Changes the Way We Think and Feel and the creator of several
award-winning films, including the Killing Us Softly:
Advertising's Image of Women series. She is a Visiting
Research Scholar at the Wellesley Centers for Women.
|
|
|
|