How to Survive the Age of Advertising

After the Stone Age came the Iron Age, then the Industrial Age, and now the Age of Advertising. Regardless of what the experts say, we are not living in the age of a consumer economy, but of an advertising economy. Allow me to explain.

Through some dark miracle of voodoo economics, the consumer has become the product and the advertiser is now the customer. With companies trading for billions without producing proportional revenue -- or any at all -- we can only imagine how far things can go and how far the markets will climb before this latest bubble bursts, exposed for the pyramid scheme that it is.

So what are the biggest businesses on the planet are providing? Access and connection. And most of them are giving it away, because the real commodity is the trillions of eyeballs correlating to an avalanche of hits and likes and shares.

So entrenched is the culture of Madison Avenue in our daily lives that, in 2009 Don Draper won first place in the annual poll by Ask.com naming the Most Influential Man in America. Ironic, but not surprising, that a fictional character could be considered a more powerful force upon American society than either the president or the founder of Facebook; after all, the inability to distinguish between reality and illusion is precisely the goal of modern advertising.

We can only wait and see how much damage the current culture of deception will inflict upon our world. Nevertheless, there is some small hope that escape from its influence might still be possible, no matter how far its tendrils have reached. That evidence comes in the person of Julian Keonig,  perhaps the greatest legend in advertising history, who passed away last year at age 93.

Readers of a certain age will remember the classic Timex slogan, “It takes a licking and keeps on ticking,” and the self-validating tagline for the Volkswagen Beetle -- think small -- voted the most successful ad of the last century. Both were the creations of Julian Keonig; but neither was what he considered his most inspired brainstorm.

A passionate environmentalist, Mr. Koenig learned of a nationwide event to promote ecological awareness still in the early stages of planning in 1970. The organizers intended to call it an environmental teach-in. Julian Koenig dubbed it Earth Day. The group took out an ad in the New York Times, and 20 million people turned out to participate.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Herein lies the duality of advertising.

More often than not, advertising is a manipulative tool to get people to do what you want. Julian Koenig himself knew this to be true. In a 2009 interview with his daughter interviewed for a story on This American Life, he confessed, “I don't think anybody can go proudly into the next world with a career built on deception, no matter how well they do it.”

True enough. But wielded by pragmatic idealists, advertising can become a virtuous instrument to get people to do what they themselves want… as Julian Koenig himself proved through his contribution to Earth Day.

For the most part, people want to do the right thing. But we are so conflicted, pulled in so many directions, convinced of all the things that we need to do and have and say, that we constantly second-guess ourselves, letting the forces on every side turn us one way or another.

We need to be “sold” on doing what’s right. And, in a world where responsible and reliable leadership has grown increasingly rare, we have to learn to “sell” ourselves.

Calculating the Price we pay

The Talmud says: consider the cost of a good deed against its rewards, and the rewards of a bad deed against its cost. Marketers try to convince us how we have to live our lives. We have to fight back with our own internal cost-benefit analysis:

How much do I need it? Most of what glitters is fool’s gold. I may want something, but do I need it? I may like something, but is it good for me? I might enjoy buying something, but will it have any positive impact upon my life tomorrow?

How much will it cost? So many of us end up living beyond our means because we fail to set reasonable limits on our spending. But even if I can afford something in dollars, what are the hidden costs in terms of wasted time, aroused jealousy, alienated friends and family, or the sacrifice of personal integrity?

Why do I want it? Social pressure is the most compelling salesman. Fads, fashions, trends, and mob mentality proves almost irresistible to individuals who find themselves herded along a course of action that would have seemed inconceivable had they taken even a few moments for solitary self-reflection.

What if I were on YouTube? Would I want the whole world to see me doing this? My boss? My wife? My mother? My children? Nowadays, the chances of actually ending up on a viral video are close to even-money.

What if I don’t? When temptation seems to be driving me toward the precipice, projecting into the future can take the wind out of temptation’s sails. Will I regret this tomorrow? Will I even care if I missed out? Or will I mourn an opportunity lost?

Is anyone on my side? When Solomon Asch conducted his famous experiment on perception in 1951, 75% of his subjects were convinced to go along with a group even when it was clear that the group was wrong. But if even one other person defied the group, the percentage fell precipitously. Find a clear-thinking ally or advisor, and hang on for dear life.

In the Age of Advertising, slogans and soundbites have overrun our world, perpetually seeking to reduce us to commodities from which nameless, faceless entities hope to profit. The culture of deception will do all it can to sell us its values and seduce us into almost any kind of behavior. Our best defense is to recognize those deceptive tactics, to turn them in our favor, and to expose temptation for what it is.

If we do, we can ensure that we won’t be deceived by the “salesmen” all around us. Then comes the far more difficult challenge of making sure we don’t end up deceiving ourselves.

Rabbi Yonason Goldson, a talmudic scholar and former hitchhiker, circumnavigator, and newspaper columnist, lives with his wife in St. Louis, Missouri, where he teaches, writes, and lectures.   His new book Proverbial Beauty:  Secrets for Success and Happiness from the Wisdom of the Ages is available on Amazon.