An Advertising Man Looks at Advertising

I

ONE of the most consistent charges leveled against the American commonwealth, both at home and abroad, concerns the blatancy, vulgarity, and charlatanism of our industrial life. We are accused, not without justice, of being a nation of materialists. We are represented as producing badly made goods; of distributing them by unfair trade methods; of selling them by means at once insincere and misleading and offensive to good taste. We are, in short, left with very little of that dignity or natural virtue which is commonly associated with the humanely civilized state.

This is a serious indictment, and one which is of particular interest to me because my profession is advertising, and advertising is, and always must be, the handmaiden of industry. Advertising is the channel through which much of this blatancy, this vulgarity and sharp practice, must necessarily be manifested. Any charge against our industrial system must, therefore, be considered and dealt with, at least in part, by the professional advertising man.

Just how much truth, then, is there in this indictment? I will say unhesitatingly that in my opinion there is a great deal of truth in it. So far as advertising goes, we are fallen upon evil days. Even a brief excursion through the average newspaper and magazine is, for the advertising man who respects his calling, a disheartening experience.

Here, for example, is an article recommended to the American public because it has found favor (almost certainly at a price) with a popular radio crooner. Here is an advertisement which is systematically creating and fostering the fear — in the great majority of cases absolutely unfounded — of unpleasant breath. Here, on the following pages, are its horrendous foster brood — awesome medical terms seized upon by purveyors of various remedies and antiseptics to inspire fear, and thereby to increase sales. In this newspaper one finds what purports to be a comic strip, but turns out to be an almost incredibly inane dialogue about a common home product. In that magazine one is regaled with a hysterical domestic drama of lost love resulting from failure to use a certain toilet accessory.

It would be possible to cite further instances, ad nauseam and ad infinitum; but everyone is familiar with this sort of thing. Such antics would be mildly amusing if they were not so tragically symptomatic. But to the responsible advertising man they are no joke. It means that the great power with which he is concerned — the power of the printed page — must slowly but surely become discredited.

Already there are indications that this is so.

One product, which for several years has featured the testimonials of moving-picture actresses and other professional endorsers, has been forced by public skepticism to state in the advertising itself that no money is being paid for these encomiums (leaving discreetly in the air the question of how much had been paid for them in the past).

An organization which investigates and returns confidential reports upon the value and utility of all kinds of products has gained thousands of members without a line of advertising or promotion — simply because a great many people are beginning to turn from advertising (even at a nominal cost to themselves) in order to supply themselves with some source of information which they can trust.

And finally we have the very significant phenomenon of a group of magazines which have recently sprung up, devoted entirely to the gentle art of burlesquing advertising — magazines which carry to their logical conclusion all its absurdities, exaggerations, and misrepresentations.

This is a situation which exists, and one which is poles apart from the true nature and purpose of advertising. Advertising is, or should be, nothing more than the dissemination of truth. Every product worthy of being advertised at all has certain qualities to recommend it to the public. It is the function of advertising to make these qualities known. That this should be done as interestingly and effectively as possible goes without saying. But it is not within the province of advertising to make for any product a single claim unfounded upon fact, or to exceed the bounds of candor or good taste in the statement of those facts which are at hand.

However, what we have before us is not a theory, but a condition. It would take a bold advocate to deny that a large percentage of advertising in this year of grace 1932 is further than it has ever been from the ideals and hopes of those who have its best interests at heart. True, much — perhaps the greater portion — of the advertising appearing to-day preserves intact its integrity of thought and spirit; but unfortunately the public does not discriminate in such matters. The public reads one dissertation upon dirty undergarments, and throws up its hands. A single paid testimonial renders suspect a hundred honest and sincere advertisements.

II

For this condition of affairs it is not altogether easy to assign the blame. The first impulse of the layman will be to ascribe it in toto to the influence of a type of advertising man who has, in the past, made himself all too conspicuous. And I have no doubt that the trouble did in fact originate with him. But the matter is no longer as simple as that; it is no longer merely a case of a vulgarian in the business of advertising, selling his ideas to a vulgarian in the business of manufacturing. The evil has ramified; there are other elements involved.

Perhaps it will be enlightening if we trace in a characteristic industry the rise and spread of this process of contamination.

Let us take one of the more conservative manufacturers in that industry. He is not the largest manufacturer, but he has always done very well. One of his chief competitors, however, is doing better than very well. He is forging ahead. He is using advertising of a sensational and misleading nature. He is also using five times as much of it.

The advertising of this competitor is a mixture of paid testimonials, specious claims, and an occasional excursion into the realms of pseudoscience. It shouts, it shrieks, it blares from the pages of newspapers and certain magazines, and from every other billboard. It sells the product.

Under the pressure of this competition our manufacturer grows restless. He does not believe he can afford to spend any more money on advertising, but he thinks that perhaps he can get more for what he is spending by changing the nature of his advertising. ‘Fight fire with fire,’he says. He calls upon his advertising agent, therefore, to produce something ’with more punch in it.’ He wants a new idea.

Now the advertising agent, no matter what his standards or ethics, has his choice of one of two courses. He can either produce an idea ‘with punch in it,’ or resign the account to somebody else who will.

First, of course, he tries to stay within the bounds of good taste and reason. If, however, his client is not satisfied with what he offers, he has the choice of surrender or the Pyrrhic victory of declaring his moral independence.

If he is big enough and strong enough, and feels that way about it, he will part company with the manufacturer and let somebody else take the business. If, on the other hand, he cannot afford to lose the account, he will swallow his scruples and try to give the customer what he wants.

We will assume that the agent needs the business very badly indeed. (In days like these, everybody needs the business very badly indeed.) He possesses his soul, therefore, in silence, and retires to formulate an idea of sufficient blatancy and idiocy to compete with its model. In a week he returns. He has it. With due solemnity he reveals it. It is Sex Appeal.

Thus within a short time we read in the newspapers that this manufacturer’s product merits our patronage because, after using it, one may kiss without exhaling an offensive odor.

Now it is easy enough for the observer of this little moral tragedy to pass judgment upon the actions of both the manufacturer and his advertising agent; but before doing so it would be well if he were to ask himself the question, ‘What would I have done in their place?’

My own feeling is that there are few of us here on earth with enough moral courage to sacrifice our bread and butter during a period of financial depression for the sake of an abstract ideal. As a matter of fact, our unhappy advertising man is no whit different from the lawyer who knowingly defends a guilty client, the minister who preaches sermons made to order for his wealthy parishioners, the editor who sets forth the opinions of the newspaper publisher who hires him, or the stock-market operator who participates in bear raids.

I venture to say that there is no one of us who is not forced, at some point in his daily affairs, to make compromises with his conscience, and his bow to Mammon. The instinct for self-preservation is still stronger than the passion for perfection. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

This, of course, is an explanation, not an excuse. I do not wish to appear as an apologist, but if possible as a constructive critic. Before prescribing a remedy, it is necessary to diagnose the disease.

I have suggested that the blame for this condition of affairs rests no more with the advertising agent than with the manufacturer. But there is a third party, a silent accessory after the fact. That party is the public. Such advertising as we see to-day in this country could not possibly be made to pay if the public did not respond to it by buying the goods it promotes. It is true that a great portion of the patronage thus obtained is drawn from population levels so low as to be unable to distinguish between truth and untruth, good taste and bad. Yet there remains a large body of informed citizens who can, if they will, do much to correct the evil.

I must explain, in passing, that when I say that advertising of this sort is being made to pay, I do not mean that it is profitable by reason of its nature. It must be remembered that most of these malodorous campaigns are supported by huge appropriations. They are in all but the most scrupulous newspapers and magazines. It is entirely possible, and even probable, that a similar expenditure upon better advertising would produce similar, or better, results. The fact remains, however, that such advertising is, as it stands, successful, and that it is a stench in the nostrils of the civilized world.

III

This is the situation. What can we do about it? How are we to pull ourselves out of this slough of chicane and vulgarity into which, with every passing day, we seem to be sinking deeper? For it must be apparent to every thoughtful person that something ought to be done about it. The tremendous power of the printed page, of which every advertising man has daily, concrete evidence, — a power which influences the thoughts and actions of every one of us; which shapes, in fact, that structure of ethical and æsthetic values which is the national soul, — that power is being prostituted beneath our eyes.

I believe there is one way, and one way only, to check this trend. That is to make such advertising unproductive through the active hostility and resentment of the public. This resentment is already in evidence; but it is unorganized. The average citizen feels, at least dimly, that many of the advertisements he reads are an insult to his intelligence. But he feels also, perhaps, that such stuff is well enough adapted to a lot of people who are not so clever as he, and with the discerning minority he has neither influence nor contact.

Thus it happens that the masses who are incapable of discrimination are unaware that anything is wrong; the better-educated citizen shrugs his shoulders and tries to forget it; and nothing is done.

This is what I propose: Let every person who feels himself concerned in this matter make a resolve not to buy any more goods which are advertised in an unseemly or unethical way. No matter how good the product, or how long you have used it, let it remain on your black list until such time as the advertiser sees fit to reform. Go to the shopkeeper who sells the goods and tell him what you intend to do. Go to your friends and urge them to do likewise.

If enough people would do this, — if only a relatively few people would do it, — there would be consternation in the enemy’s camp. The retailer would complain to the wholesaler. The wholesaler would complain to the manufacturer’s salesman. The salesman would pass the word on to the manufacturer, and the manufacturer would clean house.

This is no idle dream. The ear which the industrialist holds to the solid earth of public opinion is both apprehensive and sensitive. The industrialist builds upon mass production. He must please the public. And if he has reason to suspect that the public does not like his goods, or his method of selling them, he will waste no time in setting matters right.

So far, the manufacturer has not interpreted aright those significant signs of the times to which I have already alluded — the appearance upon the horizon of the organization for consumer research, the extraordinary success of the magazines which satirize advertising. But no manufacturer could ignore or misinterpret such a manifestation of public disfavor as I am proposing, for the message would reach him through the nerves of the industrial organism itself, in terms of sales. There is, unfortunately, no organization or medium by which this idea can be consistently promoted. If it gains common acceptance it must be by word of mouth among publicspirited people, by editorial support and comment, and by steadfast adherence on the part of those who profess it.

Great movements have sprung from smaller beginnings. I am not by any stretch of the imagination a sentimentalist, but I sincerely believe that if we as a nation are to preserve a shred of dignity and self-respect for ourselves and our children we must set ourselves at once to this task. There is no other which, in the long run, will so well repay our efforts.