A light-hearted little ad campaign that reminds us all that no matter what your parenting choices, all parents are united in the resignation of their autonomy. My god, they even have a lesbian couple. Heartwarming. And progressive HuffPo just loves it. Or maybe not. They're not sure yet -- check back once the right wing takes a whack at it and they'll make sure to argue against that. But, being the valiant combatants of exclusion and intolerance that they are, they do have one concrete complaint: "what about dad?".
"Welcome to the Sisterhood of Motherhood"
"Until that unfortunate tagline, this was wonderful." (2)
Was it, now? Granted, I don't watch the Superbowl but I've always viewed advertisements as less "wonderful" and more "painful atonement for letting the TV out of the attic". But maybe I just have better taste in entertainment.
One day we'll be together again... |
"Here are these dads, who are, we assume, capable and confident parents, converging at this playground for the same reason as all of the moms are. They're caring for their kids and spending time with their community of fellow parents! They express opinions about parenting!"
Hold -- they're doing what? Firstly, their children are newborns. Is taking care of them in a public park really that laudable? Feed them and steer them clear of ill-placed minefields and they're golden. Secondly, I'd rather chew my own leg off than spend time with my community. Have you spoken to those people? These are friends -- partners in patrescence at the very least -- completely separated from the other, more estrogen-endowed factions. They're not spending time with their community; they're huddling together, segregated from the community, and doing their time, all silently praying that the kid doesn't poop until custody gets handed over to their reluctantly-professed "better half". "So, how's the wife?" How do you think? He brought a quilt -- she's cuckolding.
So what makes them capable, confident parents? I'm not saying they're not -- but what makes you think that they are? I'll concede that I don't see any baby fight clubs, shine on you dads, but I also don't see anything denoting particularly good parenting. And their only opinions are reflex defenses -- "You say I'm bad, but I'm not". I could get stronger substantiation out of your kid, and he forgets you exist when you turn the corner. They're capable and confident because you know that in real life they certainly can be, and you feel that the commercial should (and therefore, due to this bias does) represent them as such. Sophistry, I'm afraid, but fair enough. But more importantly, why do you care? Equal treatment, and all that, sure, and I can't wait to read about it on your Tumblr page, but why do you care about male representation in a Similac commercial? The only power Similac has is the power that you give to it. But you've surrendered that to them for the right to complain. You want a problem -- not a crisis, but a slight -- for which you can postulate a simple, yet somehow neglected answer. How perceptive of you. Righteousness lazily affirmed. Here's a gold star. You have conceded that in exchange for your right to voice your concerns, Similac's X/Y ratio has the power to affect our cultural understanding of parenthood gender roles. And here's the kicker: only because you accept that, they do.
But that's why HuffPo cares -- why you care about any commercial that brandishes some feigned social cause. But you didn't pay for the commercial, you just profit emotionally from the results. What does Similac gain? You think that Similac paid for this because they thought it was a good cause? How I envy your optimism. Advertising is never your friend, and whenever you find yourself in agreement with them you should ask yourself if your opinion is really your own. "It says Similac right at the end of the commercial. But there's no product." Correct. So they're selling the brand. "Duh. 'We're a brand that cares'." Close, but no cigar. They're not that blatant. But they're not above lying to you. In fact, they don't even need to do the work; you're happy to lie to yourself. There's one portion of the HuffPo article that perfectly encapsulates their ploy, but the author breezes right over it, leaving it only as a side-note.
"NOTE: I realize that the whole breastmilk vs. formula thing is precisely the sort of thing the Internet likes to argue about. For the purposes of this post, let's please set aside for a moment whether or not one is better than the other." - HuffPo (NOT Similac)
Point: Similac.
They know that their product is bad for infants. They know that breast milk is far healthier. They know that they can't compete with that. And they know that you know it. If you don't, this ad isn't for you (1)-- "get back to your Walkmans and Gameboys, the adults need to talk." They don't have a leg to stand on if we're talking health. So let's talk sex.
Note well, they didn't change the subject. They left the trail of crumbs, knowing full-well that we would find the end. "Fathers can be good parents too!" "You're right, we're sorry." And every conversation they have to have about male representation, they don't have to have about their product's healthiness. They can't win the match, so they change the game; they slyly, but intentionally decide the conversation. THEY decide. But they lead you on to think that you do, like a father playfully letting his son win. "Oh man, you got me, pal". Fine on its own, but if you catch your husband stealing the kid's fruit snacks while he's celebrating, better get Child Services on speed-dial.
He's history's greatest monster! |
So while they can't change your opinion, they can change the discussion. They won't tell you it's changing. It crawls in without you realizing, like a centaurian slug, or a second analogy that people who enjoy parties will understand. And you, not they, are the ones to change the subject.
Just like they wanted.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(1). The brilliance behind this tactic, is that we decide for ourselves who sees the ad. This tactic is new, and thus fantastically effective: they don't buy air time, they don't purchase commercial slots; they let the ad find its own audience. So who intercepts it? There are Similac purchasers. No need to sell to you, just keep in mind how great we are. There are those that are on the fence about the purchase, or people who simply need an alternative to breast feeding. Hell, maybe the concept of that little entropy factory leeching your money AND your nutrients is too much, and you just want to put it in its place. "Hey, we care.". Okay, Similac, take them, they did their 15 seconds of research. "But what about the people that disagree?". Here's the brilliance: they were never going to buy it anyway. They only care about the ad because they can use it to promote what any Phish listener will gladly tell you in the checkout line of a Whole Foods: it's awful for the kid. And so they share. Where did you see the video? On Facebook? HuffPo? Whatever self-affirming circle-jerk homeopathy community you have squirming around a temporary internet domain? It doesn't matter -- the ad isn't for them. They're carriers, meant to spread the message far enough to infect those that will buy the product. And whether you support them or not, you still shared. Similac thanks for your contribution.
(2). It was fine until the tagline? You don't want to talk about the woman who sent her infant careening toward the Springfield Gorge to make room for an exaggerated boast?
Alright.
No comments:
Post a Comment