Television has a problem. We don't like watching commercials enough, and those of us with DVRs skip through them whenever possible. This is cause for alarm for the execs, who are increasingly looking for "creative" ways to get people to watch the commercials that pay for the programs. Read this edifying AP article for a primer on what's in store for us. Essentially, the methods involve either making the commercials so enticing that viewers will be tuning in just to catch them, or cleverly integrating the ads into the show itself.
To me, though, the fuss over DVR users ignoring the expensive ads seems misplaced. According to the AP article, only 6 out of 10 actually skip commercials, meaning 4 out of 10 don't bother, because they are too lazy to press the skip button 3-9 times, because they don't want to miss the funny commercials, or because they aren't paying enough attention to notice anyway. But DVRs users aren't the only ones who don't pay attention to their televisions. Many people work or read or study through shows, glancing up only when something is interesting. Many leave the room when commercials come on, or turn down the volume. At least those who skip through their commercials keep their eyes on the screen. Some amount of screen exposure is bound to sink in.
As for embedding the ads inside a program, the 6 out of 10 DVR users who know how to skip through commercials are certainly capable of skipping that stupid Ford ad that comes in the middle of American Idol. More "subtle" product placement is a big turn-off for at least one of us, and likely to make me tune out entirely. But even for those of us who avoid commercials, once in a while live television catches up with us, or we catch up with live television, and we are forced to choose between sitting through some lousy commercials and dragging our asses off the couch. And when the commericals win it's enough for me to have the misfortune of watching the latest UPS ad once to get that they have an unfortunate new slogan.
It seems the basic problem isn't a new one, and the solution is the same as always--barrage us with so many television commercials that we will have to at least cursorily notice or be annoyed by a few until we find the skip, volume, or power button. Anything more "creative" than that will only be as successful against commercial-break-skippers as it would be against commercial-break-snackers.
So is there really a problem? Only insofar as (a) we are being sold so much unnecessary crap that we may soon reach an ad saturation point and no longer be capable of absorbing a full sentence slogan--but that's a topic for another post--and (b) the more "creative" the execs get the more fatally annoyed I will be by the blurred line between commercial entertainment and entertaining commercials.
Showing posts with label advertising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advertising. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
News Corp gets back
More food for thought on my new favorite topic--charity in the hands of big business:
On the night of the Idol Gives Back performance show, Ryan Seacrest announced that News Corp would be generously donating 10 cents per Idol vote, up to a maximum of 50 million votes, or $5 million. In other words, for every call a viewer made to vote for their favorite Idol contestant, a few cents would be given to charity. Wow. Big round of applause. That is a lot of money. Seriously. No sarcasm intended here. That's like food for a week for 100,000 African families, or school for a month for 250,000 African children, or 500,000 mosquito nets to save families from malaria.
Who the hell is this amazingly generous News Corp? Well, News Corp is a mega-corporation that owns Fox Television, among many, many other things, such as DirectTV, National Geographic Channel, HarperCollins, New York Post, MySpace, and anything with the Fox name on it, including 20th Century Fox. Incidentally, 20th Century Fox produced Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, that movie the remaining Idol contestants were shown checking out last night in a lengthy clip.
Yesterday, News Corp announced that its profits have increased 6.7% in the third quarter compared with the same quarter last year. Net income: $871 million. Overall sales: $7.51 billion. A big chunk of its earnings came from the movie Night at the Museum, which earned $571 million and starred Ben Stiller, who was, coincidentally, featured repeatedly doing a silly I'm-gonna-sing-and-dance-badly-until-we-reach-$200-billion bit in a pre-recorded guest appearance on the Idol Gives Back show. You may also remember that bit at the beginning where Stiller tried to make a joke of listing the many, many movies he has starred in. By the way, Night at the Museum was released on DVD the night before the Idol Gives Back event aired, and if you have DirecTV it will be premiering on pay-per-view May 23.
A cynical post on TV Squad notes that, unlike the post-9/11 or tsunami televised charity events, which were broadcast commercial-free, the Idol Gives Back two hour extravaganza was broadcast with commercials. No word on how much money Fox made on those commercials, but the 2005 two hour finale brought in $40 million. Of course, maybe all the commercials were PSAs; I wouldn't know, since I recorded the event and skipped them. I just can't take all that advertising and promotion.
On the night of the Idol Gives Back performance show, Ryan Seacrest announced that News Corp would be generously donating 10 cents per Idol vote, up to a maximum of 50 million votes, or $5 million. In other words, for every call a viewer made to vote for their favorite Idol contestant, a few cents would be given to charity. Wow. Big round of applause. That is a lot of money. Seriously. No sarcasm intended here. That's like food for a week for 100,000 African families, or school for a month for 250,000 African children, or 500,000 mosquito nets to save families from malaria.
Who the hell is this amazingly generous News Corp? Well, News Corp is a mega-corporation that owns Fox Television, among many, many other things, such as DirectTV, National Geographic Channel, HarperCollins, New York Post, MySpace, and anything with the Fox name on it, including 20th Century Fox. Incidentally, 20th Century Fox produced Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, that movie the remaining Idol contestants were shown checking out last night in a lengthy clip.
Yesterday, News Corp announced that its profits have increased 6.7% in the third quarter compared with the same quarter last year. Net income: $871 million. Overall sales: $7.51 billion. A big chunk of its earnings came from the movie Night at the Museum, which earned $571 million and starred Ben Stiller, who was, coincidentally, featured repeatedly doing a silly I'm-gonna-sing-and-dance-badly-until-we-reach-$200-billion bit in a pre-recorded guest appearance on the Idol Gives Back show. You may also remember that bit at the beginning where Stiller tried to make a joke of listing the many, many movies he has starred in. By the way, Night at the Museum was released on DVD the night before the Idol Gives Back event aired, and if you have DirecTV it will be premiering on pay-per-view May 23.
A cynical post on TV Squad notes that, unlike the post-9/11 or tsunami televised charity events, which were broadcast commercial-free, the Idol Gives Back two hour extravaganza was broadcast with commercials. No word on how much money Fox made on those commercials, but the 2005 two hour finale brought in $40 million. Of course, maybe all the commercials were PSAs; I wouldn't know, since I recorded the event and skipped them. I just can't take all that advertising and promotion.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
False Idols
Last week, American Idol morphed into a one-night-only fundraising extravaganza. The purpose of the televised charity event was to raise awareness and money for poor children in Africa and the United States. It was a brilliant idea to use the built-in audience of the highest rated show on television for a good cause, and to use the raw energy of music to emotionally connect people who are wealthy with the plight of people who are poor. The American Idol phenomenon brings in millions of viewers and millions of dollars in revenue and advertising. It attracts big-name celebrities who themselves earn obscene amounts of money. So it is not surprising that the event got impressive results--as of Tuesday night they have raised over $70 million from corporate and individual donations.
The show itself had good intentions, and was at times sincere and thought-provoking. Host Ryan Seacrest introduced video segments showing himself and the Idol judges visiting children and families living in conditions unimaginable to most anyone able to view the show on a television set. The most genuine moments of the night came when the cameras glimpsed the basic raw emotion of people affected by poverty and of the Idol host and judges witnessing it firsthand. And even set against this backdrop of poverty, malnutrition and a lack of basic health care there were a few heartfelt and humble musical performances that hit the right note.
But it turns out that it is impossible to exploit the power of American Idol to raise money for people in extreme poverty without juxtaposing extreme poverty with the incredible excess of the Idol empire. So for the rest of the of the night, these few true notes were surrounded by a string of false ones: some typical Seacrest moments, brief appearances by a handful of lip-syncing, well-dressed celebrities, marginally funny moments with wacky comedians Ben Stiller and Jack Black each doing their wacky thing, and several oddly celebratory and showy tunes. Even portions of the video segments seemed a little off, perhaps because they were set to a Top-40s soundtrack. Someone decided the anthem for poverty in Africa is by Coldplay, while in America it is by John Mayer. There is something odd about hearing Mayer sing "Waiting on the World to Change"--a song featured prominantly on a CSI episode and quite likely your morning commute--while we watch the sad faces of hungry children.
It wasn't the fault of any one person involved. People were trying to talk about unspeakable situations, so of course virtually any moment of the show that involved people who are not living in poverty opening their mouths to speak seemed horribly trite when juxtaposed with stories of dying mothers and orphaned children. And it must be incredibly difficult to approach such a somber topic on an entertainment show without sending people running to Nickelodeon or the latest Law & Order marathon. I get that the producers had a tough job trying to balance education, inspiration, and entertainment, to keep viewers tuned in rather than turning away.
Perhaps the most depressing part of the show, however, was that the producers felt entertainment and inspiration were not enough to keep people watching, that they felt they needed to dangle the possibility of a contestant elimination to keep the audience tuned in long enough to feel guilty or generous enough to give some money. As on any normal Wednesday night, Ryan Seacrest called the names of contestants one by one, and warned the audience that they were in for a big surprise. What could the surprise be? Could the producers have decided to send all six remaining contestants home and give the money that would have gone toward their recording contracts to starving children?
When Seacrest reached the last name, for a moment we were led to believe the surprise was that Jordin, one of the most talented contestants, had been voted off. Jordin burst into tears, and I felt so sorry for her that I forgot for a moment all those kids orphaned by AIDS, or forced to live in trailer parks surrounded by drug and gun traffickers. Not to worry, though--yes, the kids are still poor, but Jordin was safe. The big surprise was...that no one would be eliminated, as it would obviously be inappropriate to send someone home on charity night (but don't worry--this week things got back to normal as contestants sang Bon Jovi songs between Coke and Ford ads before not one but two of them were sent home!!!).
American Idol sells itself as a show for the masses, a show that gives anyone with a telephone and a television the opportunity to participate by voting. Last week everyone was given the opportunity to participate by giving. We were told that most people watching could spare a few dollars, and that even a few dollars would help make a big difference in children's lives. By focusing on the consequences of poverty, American Idol's giant fundraiser also indirectly highlighted the relative excess of the middle and even lower class existence lived by most people in this country. It is an appropriate response to feel gratitude if not guilt for the comfort and access to resources that we have, and perhaps a deep sense of the injustice of our excessive car-driving, mall-shopping, Starbucks-drinking habits, and all of the time, energy, and resources many of us use up on the pursuit of frivolous things. It is appropriate as an average American to feel inspired to give something or do something to help less fortunate people or to change our own lives in some way. And, last week, the show succeeded at convincing many average Americans to give away a few hard-earned dollars.
But American Idol is not really a show for the masses. It is a show for the advertisers and the producers and the big-name celebrities, designed to sell products and music and tickets. Idol's fundraiser was no different. The average American did not bring in over $70 million in one night. The bulk of that money clearly came from corporations, and from viewers who can give away in one night more than most people can make in a year. Such viewers got one special live plea from Ellen Degeneres, who co-hosted the show, and challenged all her rich friends to match her $100,000 donation. But the whole production was really for them. All those well-dressed celebrities were not lip-syncing and mugging for the cameras to get Jane in Cleveland to give $10; they were there because they are part of the elite group of people who can write big checks and appeal directly to other people who can write big checks. And it was that corporate and celebrity in-fest that made the night feel at times so wrong. It was the corporate and celebrity in-fest that drew President Bush's awkward live appearance Tuesday night to congratulate Idol for its success.
A couple of days after the event, I stumbled across the accidental juxtaposition of two stories on the IMDb news (see screenshot below). The first tells us that ABC offered to pay Rosie O'Donell $10 million per year for three years to continue as host of The View. The second says that the preliminary estimated amount of money raised by American Idol was $60 million. That's right--ABC was willing to pay a single person just under half the amount raised by this enormous event to work for three years as a morning talk show host.
The incredible excess thrown at the feet of the small percentage of people in this world who speak in hundreds and millions of dollars is at least as hard for me to fathom as the incredible poverty of the large percentage of people in this world who speak in hundreds or tens or ones. It is wonderful that a few generous people gave away millions of dollars in one night, and also sad that a few people and businesses have that much spare change lying around. For the rest of us, the real lesson of the night was not just that we can do more to feed the poor, but that we should do less to feed the wealthy.
The show itself had good intentions, and was at times sincere and thought-provoking. Host Ryan Seacrest introduced video segments showing himself and the Idol judges visiting children and families living in conditions unimaginable to most anyone able to view the show on a television set. The most genuine moments of the night came when the cameras glimpsed the basic raw emotion of people affected by poverty and of the Idol host and judges witnessing it firsthand. And even set against this backdrop of poverty, malnutrition and a lack of basic health care there were a few heartfelt and humble musical performances that hit the right note.
But it turns out that it is impossible to exploit the power of American Idol to raise money for people in extreme poverty without juxtaposing extreme poverty with the incredible excess of the Idol empire. So for the rest of the of the night, these few true notes were surrounded by a string of false ones: some typical Seacrest moments, brief appearances by a handful of lip-syncing, well-dressed celebrities, marginally funny moments with wacky comedians Ben Stiller and Jack Black each doing their wacky thing, and several oddly celebratory and showy tunes. Even portions of the video segments seemed a little off, perhaps because they were set to a Top-40s soundtrack. Someone decided the anthem for poverty in Africa is by Coldplay, while in America it is by John Mayer. There is something odd about hearing Mayer sing "Waiting on the World to Change"--a song featured prominantly on a CSI episode and quite likely your morning commute--while we watch the sad faces of hungry children.
It wasn't the fault of any one person involved. People were trying to talk about unspeakable situations, so of course virtually any moment of the show that involved people who are not living in poverty opening their mouths to speak seemed horribly trite when juxtaposed with stories of dying mothers and orphaned children. And it must be incredibly difficult to approach such a somber topic on an entertainment show without sending people running to Nickelodeon or the latest Law & Order marathon. I get that the producers had a tough job trying to balance education, inspiration, and entertainment, to keep viewers tuned in rather than turning away.
Perhaps the most depressing part of the show, however, was that the producers felt entertainment and inspiration were not enough to keep people watching, that they felt they needed to dangle the possibility of a contestant elimination to keep the audience tuned in long enough to feel guilty or generous enough to give some money. As on any normal Wednesday night, Ryan Seacrest called the names of contestants one by one, and warned the audience that they were in for a big surprise. What could the surprise be? Could the producers have decided to send all six remaining contestants home and give the money that would have gone toward their recording contracts to starving children?
When Seacrest reached the last name, for a moment we were led to believe the surprise was that Jordin, one of the most talented contestants, had been voted off. Jordin burst into tears, and I felt so sorry for her that I forgot for a moment all those kids orphaned by AIDS, or forced to live in trailer parks surrounded by drug and gun traffickers. Not to worry, though--yes, the kids are still poor, but Jordin was safe. The big surprise was...that no one would be eliminated, as it would obviously be inappropriate to send someone home on charity night (but don't worry--this week things got back to normal as contestants sang Bon Jovi songs between Coke and Ford ads before not one but two of them were sent home!!!).
American Idol sells itself as a show for the masses, a show that gives anyone with a telephone and a television the opportunity to participate by voting. Last week everyone was given the opportunity to participate by giving. We were told that most people watching could spare a few dollars, and that even a few dollars would help make a big difference in children's lives. By focusing on the consequences of poverty, American Idol's giant fundraiser also indirectly highlighted the relative excess of the middle and even lower class existence lived by most people in this country. It is an appropriate response to feel gratitude if not guilt for the comfort and access to resources that we have, and perhaps a deep sense of the injustice of our excessive car-driving, mall-shopping, Starbucks-drinking habits, and all of the time, energy, and resources many of us use up on the pursuit of frivolous things. It is appropriate as an average American to feel inspired to give something or do something to help less fortunate people or to change our own lives in some way. And, last week, the show succeeded at convincing many average Americans to give away a few hard-earned dollars.
But American Idol is not really a show for the masses. It is a show for the advertisers and the producers and the big-name celebrities, designed to sell products and music and tickets. Idol's fundraiser was no different. The average American did not bring in over $70 million in one night. The bulk of that money clearly came from corporations, and from viewers who can give away in one night more than most people can make in a year. Such viewers got one special live plea from Ellen Degeneres, who co-hosted the show, and challenged all her rich friends to match her $100,000 donation. But the whole production was really for them. All those well-dressed celebrities were not lip-syncing and mugging for the cameras to get Jane in Cleveland to give $10; they were there because they are part of the elite group of people who can write big checks and appeal directly to other people who can write big checks. And it was that corporate and celebrity in-fest that made the night feel at times so wrong. It was the corporate and celebrity in-fest that drew President Bush's awkward live appearance Tuesday night to congratulate Idol for its success.
A couple of days after the event, I stumbled across the accidental juxtaposition of two stories on the IMDb news (see screenshot below). The first tells us that ABC offered to pay Rosie O'Donell $10 million per year for three years to continue as host of The View. The second says that the preliminary estimated amount of money raised by American Idol was $60 million. That's right--ABC was willing to pay a single person just under half the amount raised by this enormous event to work for three years as a morning talk show host.
The incredible excess thrown at the feet of the small percentage of people in this world who speak in hundreds and millions of dollars is at least as hard for me to fathom as the incredible poverty of the large percentage of people in this world who speak in hundreds or tens or ones. It is wonderful that a few generous people gave away millions of dollars in one night, and also sad that a few people and businesses have that much spare change lying around. For the rest of us, the real lesson of the night was not just that we can do more to feed the poor, but that we should do less to feed the wealthy.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Update: GE's ecocon
GE is negotiating with the EPA to weaken proposed railroad locomotive smog control rules, the Wall Street Journal is reporting.
As a spokesperson for GE puts it, they are discussing with the EPA "how to achieve attainable and sustainable emission reductions"--a politic way of saying they are negotiating just how much money the EPA's reductions will cost them. The sticking point, it seems, is the technology that would have to be developed to meet the reductions guidelines, which would take effect between 2011 and 2017.
GE, you will recall from my previous post, is currently in the midst of its "ecoimagination" ad campaign, through which it is promoting its ecologically innovative technologies, and portraying itself as an ecofriendly company. The campaign itself, as I previously argued, misses its mark. Now it also seems GE is misplacing money to hype their ability to take salt out of ocean water while they haggle over their desire to lower locomotive emissions by six tenths of a gram less than the EPA would like in the next ten years.
As a spokesperson for GE puts it, they are discussing with the EPA "how to achieve attainable and sustainable emission reductions"--a politic way of saying they are negotiating just how much money the EPA's reductions will cost them. The sticking point, it seems, is the technology that would have to be developed to meet the reductions guidelines, which would take effect between 2011 and 2017.
GE, you will recall from my previous post, is currently in the midst of its "ecoimagination" ad campaign, through which it is promoting its ecologically innovative technologies, and portraying itself as an ecofriendly company. The campaign itself, as I previously argued, misses its mark. Now it also seems GE is misplacing money to hype their ability to take salt out of ocean water while they haggle over their desire to lower locomotive emissions by six tenths of a gram less than the EPA would like in the next ten years.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Fish out of water
GE has an underactive "ecomagination". In their new commercial, which is titled "fishing" and can be viewed at ecomagination.com, a fishing boat hauls a net overflowing with clear and fresh bottles of water from the ocean. The fishermen excitedly sort through their catch; one proudly displays an impressive four foot long bottle. A voiceover boasts that GE technology is turning saltwater into drinkable water.
The practice of making ocean water safe for human consumption is less ecological and innovative than it is disturbing. If there is a need for this technology it is because we are depleting and damaging our freshwater resources. GE's "ecomagination" campaign suggests we should solve a problem we have created not by learning from our mistakes but by stepping on as-yet untapped, undepleted, and less damaged resources. It suggests that if the water around us is disappearing or dirty, we should drink up and pollute away. GE will come to the rescue.
But beyond being troubled by the underlying message of the ad, I question the efficacy of the ad itself. If the "ecoimagination" campaign is meant to appeal to the eco-conscious, it is a sure misfire. Not only might GE's desalinization technology be unimpressive to this demographic, but the imagery used in the ad will likely evoke thoughts opposite those intended by the execs who conceptualized the ad.
For example, the ecologically aware tend to be concerned about the resources used in bottling water; seeing hundreds of plastic bottles hauled out of the ocean could bring to mind waste and environmental destruction rather than joyously clean and bountiful harvest. Furthermore, recent research suggests the ocean's fish supplies will largely disappear by the middle of this century at current fishing rates, so likening exploitation of the ocean's water to that of the ocean's fish is more likely to disturb than impress anyone who is thinking beyond what store their next Dasani will come from.
The practice of making ocean water safe for human consumption is less ecological and innovative than it is disturbing. If there is a need for this technology it is because we are depleting and damaging our freshwater resources. GE's "ecomagination" campaign suggests we should solve a problem we have created not by learning from our mistakes but by stepping on as-yet untapped, undepleted, and less damaged resources. It suggests that if the water around us is disappearing or dirty, we should drink up and pollute away. GE will come to the rescue.
But beyond being troubled by the underlying message of the ad, I question the efficacy of the ad itself. If the "ecoimagination" campaign is meant to appeal to the eco-conscious, it is a sure misfire. Not only might GE's desalinization technology be unimpressive to this demographic, but the imagery used in the ad will likely evoke thoughts opposite those intended by the execs who conceptualized the ad.
For example, the ecologically aware tend to be concerned about the resources used in bottling water; seeing hundreds of plastic bottles hauled out of the ocean could bring to mind waste and environmental destruction rather than joyously clean and bountiful harvest. Furthermore, recent research suggests the ocean's fish supplies will largely disappear by the middle of this century at current fishing rates, so likening exploitation of the ocean's water to that of the ocean's fish is more likely to disturb than impress anyone who is thinking beyond what store their next Dasani will come from.
Monday, January 29, 2007
A horse is a 14-year-old girl is a Joe Montana
Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro has been euthanized due to some progressively deteriorating health issues. Barbaro was known as a gifted race horse, but eight months ago suffered a mid-race "breakdown" of some kind that, as it turns out, was the beginning of the end. Since that time, Barbaro has endured surgeries, complications, painful recovery, and, now, death.
As you might deduce from the general lack of detail or nuance in the previous paragraph, I'm not much of a horse racing fan. But I had heard of Barbaro. I knew he was considered phenomenal. I read about it when he broke down, and, like many, assumed death-by-needle was merely hours away. I was vaguely aware that he was instead treated to the best in horse medicine and encouraged to fight back. That was eight months ago. Just enough time had gone by that my mind had wandered onto greener pastures.
Roy Jackson, one of Barbaro's "owners", said of the decision to euthanize the horse, "We just reached a point where it was going to be difficult for him to go on without pain." When I read this, two things came to mind: middle-aged men with fused spinal vertabrae, and limber 14-year-old girls.
I recently read a story about the pain endured by former football stars in the post-retirement years. Football players place enormous pressure on their bodies for a few years of their lives. They are injured every single time they play. They undergo treatments that are something like placing layer upon layer of spackle over an ever-widening hole in a wall. The San Francisco Chronicle interviewed 30 retired NFL players and found that 20 of them cope with severe chronic pain, 3 have had joint replacements, and 9 have been told they will need joint replacements in the future. The men are in their 40s and 50s now. (See the original article, and my previous commentary on it.)
The football players were grown men when they played. Although they may have begun playing at a young age, these players reached the height of their careers as adults. They were old enough to choose their paths. So I have few problems with the choices of the adult individual athlete, even if they regret their choices 25 years later. In fact, I admire many of them. I nevertheless feel somewhat uncomfortable with the system that pushes these men to push themselves beyond reasonable limits in order to sell diet Pepsi.
I am even less comfortable with those sports whose star athletes hit retirement before they are old enough to hit the bars. Last weekend, I watched a women's (more accurately girls') figure-skating championship while holding my sick and napping (and thus far non-athletic) four-year-old. At one point, just before breaking for commercials, they showed an old home video of one of the competitors at age three, skating to a full-scale routine in full-scale costume through an act reminiscent of JonBenet Ramsey.
The figure-skaters are 14-17 years old now, high-school age, gangly and awkward as they wave to the cameras and mumble through interviews. Yet they skate, many of them, beautifully, sliding onto the ice with grace. I have great respect for their abilities. And I have great fear for their futures.
In an extract from 'In defense of Animals' (a longer portion can be found here), Peter Singer explains:
I'm not suggesting we euthanize retired or injured athletes, that we judge that their quality of life is as unacceptable as Barbaro's was. What I am suggesting is that in the area of certain (profitable) sports, humans and animals already receive similar treatment: they are groomed, prodded, pushed to the limit, then left to languish with deconstructed joints and brittle bones. While the feats and abilities of the star athlete are admirable, there is a point at which public admiration of them is pushed into the realm of exploitation and commercialization. Both horse and human deserve better.
As you might deduce from the general lack of detail or nuance in the previous paragraph, I'm not much of a horse racing fan. But I had heard of Barbaro. I knew he was considered phenomenal. I read about it when he broke down, and, like many, assumed death-by-needle was merely hours away. I was vaguely aware that he was instead treated to the best in horse medicine and encouraged to fight back. That was eight months ago. Just enough time had gone by that my mind had wandered onto greener pastures.
Roy Jackson, one of Barbaro's "owners", said of the decision to euthanize the horse, "We just reached a point where it was going to be difficult for him to go on without pain." When I read this, two things came to mind: middle-aged men with fused spinal vertabrae, and limber 14-year-old girls.
I recently read a story about the pain endured by former football stars in the post-retirement years. Football players place enormous pressure on their bodies for a few years of their lives. They are injured every single time they play. They undergo treatments that are something like placing layer upon layer of spackle over an ever-widening hole in a wall. The San Francisco Chronicle interviewed 30 retired NFL players and found that 20 of them cope with severe chronic pain, 3 have had joint replacements, and 9 have been told they will need joint replacements in the future. The men are in their 40s and 50s now. (See the original article, and my previous commentary on it.)
The football players were grown men when they played. Although they may have begun playing at a young age, these players reached the height of their careers as adults. They were old enough to choose their paths. So I have few problems with the choices of the adult individual athlete, even if they regret their choices 25 years later. In fact, I admire many of them. I nevertheless feel somewhat uncomfortable with the system that pushes these men to push themselves beyond reasonable limits in order to sell diet Pepsi.
I am even less comfortable with those sports whose star athletes hit retirement before they are old enough to hit the bars. Last weekend, I watched a women's (more accurately girls') figure-skating championship while holding my sick and napping (and thus far non-athletic) four-year-old. At one point, just before breaking for commercials, they showed an old home video of one of the competitors at age three, skating to a full-scale routine in full-scale costume through an act reminiscent of JonBenet Ramsey.
The figure-skaters are 14-17 years old now, high-school age, gangly and awkward as they wave to the cameras and mumble through interviews. Yet they skate, many of them, beautifully, sliding onto the ice with grace. I have great respect for their abilities. And I have great fear for their futures.
In an extract from 'In defense of Animals' (a longer portion can be found here), Peter Singer explains:
The animal liberation movement [. . .] is saying that where animals and humans have similar interests - we might take the interest in avoiding physical pain as an example, for it is an interest that humans clearly share with other animals - those interests are to be counted equally, with no automatic discount just because one of the beings is not human. A simple point, no doubt, hut nevertheless part of a far-reaching ethical revolution.
I'm not suggesting we euthanize retired or injured athletes, that we judge that their quality of life is as unacceptable as Barbaro's was. What I am suggesting is that in the area of certain (profitable) sports, humans and animals already receive similar treatment: they are groomed, prodded, pushed to the limit, then left to languish with deconstructed joints and brittle bones. While the feats and abilities of the star athlete are admirable, there is a point at which public admiration of them is pushed into the realm of exploitation and commercialization. Both horse and human deserve better.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
We're onto you, McDonald's
Advertising is a powerful thing. I've done well for some time now eating food almost exclusively made from scratch, and cutting out especially sugary or processed items. All without overwhelming cravings. Incidentally, when I watch television it is usually recorded on my DVR, and I skip the commercials. Coincidence? This morning I was reminded of how powerful commercials can be when I watched a few minutes of something live and caught an Oreo commercial. Suddenly, I found myself thinking, Mmmm...Oreos. Wait...what!? Where the hell did that come from?
DVR was the reason I wanted cable. It's like suddenly all your favorite shows are on PBS. No surprise that advertisers are not happy with the DVR situation. And television networds can't be thrilled, either--I haven't watched any new shows this year, simply because I don't see the commercials and therefore don't know about them or feel that I am missing them. And not just the new shows. I'm not a great American Idol fan, but in the past seeing the commercials made me feel that maybe I should be, just as that Oreo commercial made me feel that downing some milk and a bag of cookies would make me feel really good.
Now we have proof that television shows and advertisers are teaming up to thwart the commercial-skipping powers of the DVR. This video, posted on YouTube, shows a frame-by-frame view of a Food Network show with a single frame McDonald's ad embedded in it. I have seen our future, and it is frequent, inexplicable french fry cravings.
DVR was the reason I wanted cable. It's like suddenly all your favorite shows are on PBS. No surprise that advertisers are not happy with the DVR situation. And television networds can't be thrilled, either--I haven't watched any new shows this year, simply because I don't see the commercials and therefore don't know about them or feel that I am missing them. And not just the new shows. I'm not a great American Idol fan, but in the past seeing the commercials made me feel that maybe I should be, just as that Oreo commercial made me feel that downing some milk and a bag of cookies would make me feel really good.
Now we have proof that television shows and advertisers are teaming up to thwart the commercial-skipping powers of the DVR. This video, posted on YouTube, shows a frame-by-frame view of a Food Network show with a single frame McDonald's ad embedded in it. I have seen our future, and it is frequent, inexplicable french fry cravings.
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