The first-quarter earnings statement from Google is out. Its earnings have jumped by 477% and revenue has doubled thanks to online ad sales. At the same time, reports from the Inuit indicate that global warming is advancing three times as quickly in the Arctic as elsewhere in the world.
These stories have at least one thing in common—both are motivated by consumption. Google generates almost all its revenue by selling advertising space on its online search engine or on linked web sites. But advertising space has value only to the extent to which it can be verified that viewers of the advertisements (people like you and me) spend money on the products or services advertised. Google’s competitors are other media outlets which depend upon advertising revenue—television networks, newspaper conglomerates like New York Times Inc., and other concerns like Viacom which are clearing houses for a host of other advertising media like bus shelters, park benches and billboards.
2 observations:
1) Companies which make their money by selling advertising are cultural leeches. What they contribute to our culture, they contribute at one remove from the front lines of cultural production. To be fair, marketers can produce some of the most creative and compelling work we view. Think Ridley Scott’s “1984” Superbowl commercial for Apple Computers Inc. And marketers do make significant, sometimes overwhelming, contributions to our popular culture. Think taglines like “Just do it!” or “Good to the last drop.” Nevertheless, none of these contributions would exist were it not for their purpose—to promote something else, like a shoe, or a coffee bean.
2) Advertising is predicated upon consumption. It is not enough for a marketing firm to instill a desire for a product. That in itself is socially corrosive; it has the incidental effect of instilling within us a deep-seated dissatisfaction with everything we see and have; it persuades us to throw out the 10th commandment. It is not enough that we covet our neighbour’s luxury automobile. Instead, the marketing firm goes one further and seeks to instill in us a desire to have a new product, the latest edition, the next next thing. And so our garbage dumps are heaped with last year’s trends.
There is an urban legend (at least I think it’s an urban legend) about a chemical engineer who developed a formula for producing nylon stockings which were all but indestructible. But his employer forced him to bury his discovery because the company needed the steady revenue stream from people buying new nylon stockings. The story ends with the chemical engineer being stonewalled and then, in frustration, committing suicide. The story is true. Maybe not factually true. But it contains within it a truth about our culture. The truth lies in the fact that the story exists at all. It suggests a widespread moral orientation that runs against the grain. Most of us freely acknowledge that rampant consumption imposes a cruel burden upon the planet. Most of us even acknowledge a moral dimension to our economic activities and reject Adam Smith’s myth of self-interest for the greater good (at least in its strictest application). Most of us acknowledge that excessive industry is irrevocably altering the planet’s climate. We are an odd creature. We are like lemmings. But we differ in one respect. Unlike lemmings, all of us know that there is a cliff not far away, and yet we all keep running. When you are running with the pack, it is frightening to stop and run in the opposite direction; you might be trampled.
One of the things preventing us from changing direction is guilt. We acknowledge our complicity in the actions we despise, and so we look at one another and bow our heads sheepishly. We need to get past the guilt. We need to stop accusing one another of hypocrisy and recognize that each one of us leaves a footprint on the Earth. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with leaving a footprint. For example, we all shit; that is part of the natural order. Merely by existing, we function as economic actors, and so, when one of us purchases something, a portion of that money inevitably supports other transactions which (if we were aware of it) we would find abhorrent. Our complicity will not go away. But that in no way exempts us from our obligation to reduce the size and impact of our footprint.
And so I am unlikely ever to advertise on this blog. That is one way I can reduce my footprint. There still remains the problem of how to make a living. For example, if we suddenly decided, as a collective, that we would eradicate advertising as part of our economic engine, what would happen to all the graphic artists and copy writers and musicians, etc.? What would happen to all our television and radio programming without the support of advertising revenue? It’s easy for me to make a commitment about advertising on this blog; I don’t depend on a revenue stream to keep blogging. But what about those who do depend on advertising revenue? How do we change their commitments when their commitments feed their children?