When I read this story the other day, I of course thought it was nuts:
Judging from the biological reactions, test subjects were just as engaged while watching fast-forwarded advertisements as they were while viewing opening scenes from the NBC show “Heroes” at regular speed.
In other words, those ads you blast past with a DVR fast forward button are as “engaging” as the ones you used to sit through. The source of this research is NBC, which wants to convince advertisers that the money they pay for commercial time isn’t being thrown away just because a certain percentage of the audience fast-forwards past the spots.
Absurd, right? Just more desperation from networks trying to salvage their business model. And that may be the case.
On the other hand, while a fast-forwarded ad may not be as engaging as an actual, watched ad, that doesn’t necessarily mean it has no effect at all.
One of the big mistakes that people often make about advertising is that it works (or fails to work) in purely rational or linear ways. That is: Consumer sees ad; consumer is persuaded; consumer goes to store and buys product. Of course, that almost never happens. The brain is a complicated thing, and as you probably know, a great deal of the work it does takes place at a non-conscious level. One famous book on this general subject is Timothy D. Wilson’s Strangers To Ourselves, which was a major (cited) influence on the best-seller Blink. It’s not a book about advertising by any means, but I belatedly remembered and looked up one passage that’s relevant here.
Basically Wilson makes the point that regular advertising often works the way that people believe subliminal advertising (naked figures in ice cubes in a liquor ad or whatever) works: By communicating with the non-conscious part of the mind.
People fear subliminal advertisements (which have no effect) more than everyday advertising (which often has powerful effects) because they worry that they will be influenced without knowing it. But ironically, everyday advertisements are more likely to influence us without our fully recognizing that we are being influenced. It is not as if we go to the drugstore and think, “Should I buy the house brand or Advil? Well, if Advil is good enough for Nolan Ryan, it’s good enough for me…” Instead, we might find a name brand more comforting or familiar and not realize why we feel that way. So we shell out the extra cash for something that is no different from the house brand…
A failure to recognize the power of advertising makes us more susceptible to it … because we are likely to lower our guard while watching commercials or fail to avoid them altogether. …
He adds that he and a colleague in one study (which I haven’t read) used the term “mental contamination” to describe the process, “because our minds can unknowingly become ‘polluted’ with information we would rather not have influence us.”
The upshot is that while maybe you’re not engaging with that Taco Bell ad the same you would if you were sitting there hanging on every word. But a) how often do you hang on every word of an ad even real time, and b) even at super-fast speeds, you may still processing the fact it’s a Taco Bell ad. Does that mean you’ll march like a robot to Taco Bell afterwards? Of course not. But maybe Taco-Bellness has taken up one or two more bits of your nonconscious mind just the same, and maybe that will make a difference later without you ever consciously thinking about it. (And maybe the more certain you are that you’re ad-proof, the more likely it is to occur.)
A little esoteric-sounding, perhaps. But the point is that it is possible that a bit of “mental contamination” is getting through after all. And if it is, then maybe advertisers do owe networks something for such scenarios — because delivering such “pollution” is the name of the game.
Like everybody else, I guess, I was a bit caught up in the hype last week around the iPhone. In my case, I was strictly observing: I had no intention of actually going to stand in line or whatever. But I was amazed at the level of mass participation involved in the phenomenon. It became, like any mass event, more about being part of something big than about the particular thing being consumed. Even here in Savannah, people were waiting in line at the stores that promised to have the device on offer from the get-go. It was like “Star Wars” or Woodstock or something — people seemed to want to be involved just for the sake of being involved.
In the aftermath, what is there to say? Nothing, I thought. But this entry on the site Carbon Neutral Journal makes the point that, as a result of iPhone-mania, a lot of perfectly good mobiles must now be gotten rid of. It points to CollectiveGood.
The Unconsumption page of Murketing.com lists a variety of other options.
I almost hesitate to bring this up. The two recent posts here about green hype have not exactly been hits with you readers — the comments mostly seem to be saying that I’m a big spoilsport for failing to be excited about the alleged eco-consumer revolution. So don’t misunderstand me. I’m not raining on your parade, iPhone freaks. Enjoy your new gizmo to the fullest. But, as a bonus, you can also get a hit of unconsumption satisfaction, too, by getting rid of your obsolete (you know what I mean) ex-phone in the most responsible manner possible. You’ll feel that much better when you do.
Given my post the other day complaining about green hype, I should point out the article about the alleged green-consumption trend that appears in (of all places, the Times Style section today:
Critics question the notion that we can avert global warming by buying so-called earth-friendly products, from clothing and cars to homes and vacations, when the cumulative effect of our consumption remains enormous and hazardous.
“There is a very common mind-set right now which holds that all that we’re going to need to do to avert the large-scale planetary catastrophes upon us is make slightly different shopping decisions,” said Alex Steffen, the executive editor of Worldchanging.com, a Web site devoted to sustainability issues.
The genuine solution, he and other critics say, is to significantly reduce one’s consumption of goods and resources.
Steffen, writing in World Changing today, says that’s not really what he said, nor what he thinks:
I believe something quite different: that the genuine solution is not a matter of consumer choice at all.
There is no combination of purchasing decisions which will make the current affluent American lifestyle sustainable. You can’t shop your way to sustainability, as I’ve put it before. On a planet running up against so severe a set of deadlines — global warming, the extinction crisis, the poverty crisis, etc. — prosperity as currently delivered is frankly immoral, even when purchased with an eco-chic package….
The reality is that the changes we must make are systemic changes. They involve large-scale transformations in the ways we plan our cities, manufacture goods, grow food, transport ourselves, and generate energy. They involve new international regulatory regimes, corporate strategies, industrial standards, tax systems and trading markets. If we want to change the world, we need to forge ourselves into the kinds of citizens who can effectively demand such things.
The rest of his post is here.
This relates to what was saying the other day, which I tried to clarify in the comments of that post.
When marketers, designers, gurus, pundits, and others hyping the idea that Main Street is going green because Eco Product X is selling surprisingly well, they frame the larger debate in particular way. They ignore contradictory consumer behavior (steady sales of luxury SUVs), and rarely address what I’ve called unconsumption behavior (that is, how we dispose of things, what we don’t consume, etc.).
Thus they leave impression that the marketplace — consumer shopping patterns — is already solving any eco problems we might face:. The “taste-makers” are leading the way, there will be “tipping point,” and we’ll all be eco-safe, and no one has to make any particular sacrifice, and there’s no need for pesky regulations or whatever. Etc.
All of which helps to marginalize more system-oriented points of view like Steffen’s.
Anyway, both Steffen’s post and the Styles story are worth reading, and gave me more to think about.
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