Tag: marketing

  • Daily Reads: K-Cups

    Daily Reads: K-Cups

    Do you use one of those Keurig coffee machines that use the little pre-filled pods called K-Cups? Have you ever thought about whether you can recycle those pods or how many you end up sending to the landfill? When I first saw a Keurig machine I was, frankly, dismissive; it seemed like a machine that was trying to solve a problem that doesn’t actually exist. But really, isn’t that what product marketing and advertising is all about – manipulating consumers into wanting and buying things they don’t need? I was immediately turned off by the wastefulness of K-Cups but apparently I’m in the minority, because Keurig machines are now widely used. It turns out that the creator of the Keurig is in that minority, too. In this article from Brian Bennet of C|Net, Keurig inventor John Sylvan admits that his machines and their pods are overpriced and environmentally damaging. Too little too late, since they are now so popular, but some people are starting to figure it out. This article by Maria Godoy from the NPR blog The Salt discusses a parody video that highlights the environmental disaster of the K-Cup. It’s funny, but it’s also informative. And if you really want to drill down into the Keurig problem, this article from The Atlantic by James Hamblin will fill you in. If you are a Keurig user, maybe reading these articles will cause you to reconsider.

    Keurig’s own inventor not a fan of K-Cups

    Coffee Horror: Parody Pokes At Environmental Absurdity Of K-Cups

    A Brewing Problem

  • Logical Fallacies: The Bandwagon Fallacy

    Logical Fallacies: The Bandwagon Fallacy

    When I was attending Humboldt State University in the early to mid-90s, I noticed that I was putting on some weight – the dreaded Freshman 15. To combat this phenomenon, I started getting regular exercise, joined a gym, and started watching my diet. It was right around this time that a new dieting trend burst on the scene: a massive proliferation of low- and non-fat foods, all of which were marketed directly to the consumer’s desire to lose weight while still being able to indulge in treats like cookies, ice cream, and chips. In particular, I remember the Snackwell’s brand of cookies and snack cakes in their trademark green packaging. I remember scanning the nutrition label and seeing that I could eat an entire package of vanilla creme cookies and only ingest 4 grams of fat. Eureka! It never occurred to me to stop and think about the wisdom of this approach. Did it really work? Well, it must – otherwise, why would everyone be buying these products?

    Welcome aboard the bandwagon fallacy. The premise is simple: if an idea is becoming popular, it must be true. The low-fat fad took off because so many people wanted to believe in its simple premise that removing fat from your diet would remove fat from your gut. As the idea gained in popularity, it gained in adherents, which further increased its popularity, in a nice little feedback loop. Bandwagons can form around all sorts of premises, tested and untested, but I find the ones that form around food to be quite fascinating. These fads seem to come and go: the high-protein Atkins diet was first popularized in the 1970s then faded, only to experience a resurgence in the 2000s. Of course, as people came to realize that the diet didn’t have the lasting weight-loss effects it promised, it lost its popularity as people abandoned the bandwagon. Yet, these ideas manage to persist. The same thing happened to the lactose-intolerance fad, and I strongly suspect it will happen to the gluten-free fad.

    When a bandwagon idea holds the potential for becoming a marketing bonanza, it explodes across a universe of products. This reinforces the bandwagon. Currently, gluten-free is the top dietary fad. It’s quite amusing to see products that never had gluten in them in the first place emblazoned with the GLUTEN FREE! label. I’ve seen it on products as ridiculous as soda and fruit snacks (although as an aside, it can also be quite shocking to discover all sorts of strange ingredients in prepackaged foods, so I suppose it’s always possible that a fruit roll-up could have gluten in it). The same thing happened during the fat-free fad. Other current bandwagon labels include organic, free range, cage free, all natural, non-GMO, RBGH-free, and other labels catering to the health-conscious (but sometimes logic-unconscious). Gluten-free still seems to be towing a full bandwagon, but the next wagon is rapidly filling with adherents. This is the anti-sugar bandwagon. I’ve lately been seeing a lot of ink spilled over the toxic hazards of our high-sugar modern diets, and I have absolutely no doubt that the marketing bonanza has already begun.

    Research is revealing that the causes of modern health problems are much more complex and intertwined than the simplistic healthy-food bandwagons would make it appear. I do want to stress that there is real research into some of the bandwagon fads I have mentioned. Sometimes the research supports the fad, sometimes it doesn’t, and often the results are maddeningly inconclusive. The Atkins diet has been thoroughly studied with mixed results, depending on what particular factors were the focus of the research. Lowering the amount of fat in one’s diet also can certainly lead to weight loss, but that by itself is not enough. People with celiac disease truly cannot ingest gluten without becoming severely ill, and some people may be able to handle wheat protein in their diets better than others. Organic foods have the benefit of lowering our exposure to potentially toxic pesticide and herbicide residues; however, some of the other popular adjectives for “healthy” food remain highly problematic because they are misleading. “All Natural” is a loosely regulated term that can be used by almost anybody. “Free Range” and “Cage Free” can mean only that the birds in question are released to a fenced yard for a short time each day or are crowded together in large facilities with no cages – but no natural light or ability to go outside. The research into GMOs and RBGH (recombinant bovine growth hormone) is unsettled and deserves a post of its own. Even the simple “calories in-calories out” approach is turning out to be much more complicated than we thought.

    The point of all this is that these issues are complicated and deserve critical review. The bandwagon fallacy encourages us to jump aboard because it’s easier to go with the crowd than do the hard work of researching an issue on the merits. Do your research and you may just find that the bandwagon is the right place to be – but it’s not because everybody else is there. If you choose to ride on the bandwagon, be sure it’s because you are confident in its origins and its destination – whether it’s about making food choices, social choices, or even pop-culture choices. Better yet, build and drive your own wagon!

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    For the past several months I have noticed a proliferation of quizzes on social media and pop culture websites. There is something about a headline that reads “Find out which Disney princess you are!” that overcomes my inner curmudgeon and makes me want to participate, even though I’m not a fan of Disney and I don’t really care which princess I am. The internet quiz is possessed of an uncanny ability to draw in even the wary, because what could possibly be the harm in finding out which Walking Dead character you are or what your profession should actually be or what mythological beast is your totem animal? It turns out, more harm than I realized.

    Even as I was giving in to the siren call of the quiz I found myself questioning why its allure was so strong. I was answering quizzes dealing with topics I knew nothing about – things like which character I am on a TV show I don’t even watch. I told myself that it was ok because I mostly kept my participation hidden from others. I ran across most quizzes on Facebook on the feeds of friends who had taken them. I almost never posted my results, although I would sometimes leave them as a comment for the person who originally posted the quiz. I was slightly embarrassed by how quickly the quizzes would suck me in, and I figured if I didn’t pass them on then I was at least not contributing to their proliferation. As usual, there was an element of “I’m better than this” to my refusal to share my participation; I didn’t want to admit that I was indulging in such a petty use of my time.

    I thought my slight embarrassment was the worst consequence of taking these silly quizzes until I ran across an article that revealed information I immediately realized I should already have known: the quizzes are a back door way for marketers to track consumer data. OF COURSE THEY ARE. My literal headslap after reading the article paled in comparison to the anger I felt at myself for being so easily duped. If you are not familiar with these quizzes, they ask seemingly innocent questions in an effort to peg you as, for example, a fictional character or famous author or classic movie. Many of the questions have answers that hint at certain results, so if you are just dying to be identified as Allison from The Breakfast Club, you’ll select the picture of the sandwich made with Cap’n Crunch and Pixie Sticks as your lunch of choice. This all just seems so harmless and fun! But in reality, it is telling the purveyor of the quiz very specific details about you. What is your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite breakfast cereal? What bands do you like? Where is your dream vacation destination? What decade do you identify with? How do you dress? What do you read, watch, eat, do for fun? All these questions are things I have encountered on these quizzes, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize on my own that they aren’t harmless at all.

    There are plenty of people who think this sort of thing is no big deal, and I suppose to some degree that’s true, but I will not concede that it is without harm. It is manipulation, pure and simple. It’s worse than subliminal because it not only sends a message out to the consumer, it gathers a response that can be used to craft even more manipulative messaging. It absolutely depends on the notion that people don’t realize what they are giving away when they participate. If this was really just about selling us stuff, I’d still be upset by it, but ultimately I think it’s much more than that. Our willing participation in the online world means unwitting participation as harvested data. We all need to bear in mind that on the internet, nothing is truly free. The adage of marketing holds true: if you’re not paying for a product, you are the product. So the next time a quiz pops up, remember: you are giving yourself away for free.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Instant Gratification

    Technology and Its Discontents: Instant Gratification

    Over the past few years, I have been doing more and more shopping online. I have long patronized Amazon for books, especially in the used marketplace, and I have recently had occasion to order non-book items from Amazon as well. Many of the clothes and shoes in my closet have been ordered online, and the lion’s share of the supplies I need for the Rock and Shell Club have been shipped to me from all over the country (and in one memorable, not to be repeated order, China). I appreciate the convenience of finding what I need online and having it delivered directly to me, as many of the items I need are not necessarily available locally; however, I am becoming increasingly concerned about what the Amazon model is doing to us culturally, behaviorally, and economically.

    Around March 2012 I read an article in Mother Jones that pulled into focus something I had already started to hear a lot about: the backbreaking labor, low wages, and job insecurity that go into making our instant gratification economy possible. Reading about author Mac McClelland’s experience working in a warehouse subcontracted to Amazon made me seriously question the business model that allows consumers to get their goods within a few days of their order. More so, it made me scrutinize my own behavior, and I found myself asking why I expected to take delivery of my order in just a few days. The simple answer is that the Amazon model has created that expectation – order now, have it tomorrow if you’re willing to pay the price, and in just a few days or a week even if you’re not. Once you become accustomed to things arriving quickly, it creates the expectation that any delay in shipment is bad customer service – hence, Amazon becomes customer service king over your local bookstore or small online shop, which might take a few weeks to deliver the book you order.

    To do business this way, Amazon must cut corners wherever possible, which is what leads to the labor conditions in their distribution centers. But consumers, being human, are out-of-sight, out-of-mind creatures, so no thought is given to what is required to make their near-instant gratification possible. That is the nature of business competition – the nature of capitalism. But what I find dismaying about this is not the near-instant gratification for items you may have trouble getting anywhere except online; now consumers are ordering things they could just as easily buy at the local store. This article, in which a man explains that he orders his 40-pound bags of dog food from Amazon because he doesn’t want to be bothered with carrying them through a store, to his car, and into his house, is a case in point. The convenience of home delivery makes it worth it to him to pay for Amazon’s Prime service. For a flat annual fee, delivery is free – delivery of anything Amazon sells, no matter the size or the weight. When I read the article, I felt sadness, contempt, anger, disgust – all those knee-jerk, visceral reactions to what amounts to sheer laziness on the part of this consumer… but is it really laziness, or is it economic hegemony? After all, why not maximize your own time and convenience if it only takes a few dollars a year to have household items delivered straight to your door?

    And so we come to the crux of my rant. I think the Amazon model is bad for us. I think instant gratification is bad for us. I think Amazon, and the competition it has engendered, is destroying our ability to be patient, to be thoughtful, to be mindful of all the hidden economic exploitation that is required for us to get what we want NOW. I admit I’m not free of responsibility for my own part in this, but I am doing my part to react against it by finding any outlet other than online for getting the things I want and need. And, if I do make an online purchase, I try to buy directly from the source rather than from Amazon. When possible, I buy from small online businesses, and plan for the possibility that my order may take a week – or more! – to arrive. I re-read the Mother Jones article, and I hope for a time when the pendulum swings and the price of an item, including shipping, truly reflects the cost of doing business this way. And this is not just a monetary cost; it is a social and cultural cost, and it is helping to perpetuate the systematic inequality and labor exploitation that is inherent in the capitalist marketplace.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Planned Obsolescence

    Technology and Its Discontents: Planned Obsolescence

    Last Sunday a friend and I took a trip to visit the Antique Gas and Steam Engine Museum in Vista. I have been tremendously enjoying the process of learning to use my new camera, and the museum provided an abundance of wonderful subjects. Yet, as I wandered amongst the rusting hulks of old tractors, engines, trucks, and farm equipment, I felt a pang of unease. The museum is a testament to obsolete or aging technology, and some of the machines have been lovingly cared for or meticulously restored so that visitors can appreciate the technology of days gone by. In many cases, the old machinery did not look that different from what is in use today, but small, incremental changes over time led to the abandonment of the old in favor of the new. In other cases, as with the steam engines, radical new technologies led to the complete obsolescence of previous innovations.

    George Bernard Shaw said “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” When I came across this quote I shuddered. To me it speaks directly to the human desire to shape the world in his image. It is steeped in a theological ideology of man’s supremacy over and domination of the world. It does not see humans as the animals they are, destined to adapt – or not – to their environment. As I noted in a previous post, human adaptation takes the form of wanting things to be easier, faster, and better, and this idea was amply illustrated at the museum. What was wrong with the machines that had been abandoned for better (and there’s a word that needs a critical unpacking) models? I’m not arguing that innovation is necessarily a bad thing; but when we consider how our ability to do more things more easily has changed the world and our ability to survive in it in greater and greater numbers with a greater and greater impact, it’s worth thinking about whether it’s necessarily a good thing.

    Taking a turn towards more modern technologies, I find myself wondering when we will have museums filled with obsolete televisions, computers, and cellphones. I realize we have antique communicative technologies in museums already; radio has been around for more than a century, and so have telegraphs and telephones. Television is not far behind, and computers are nearing the half-century mark. But unlike the technologies of old, which seemed to change and innovate relatively slowly, computers in particular are changing so fast that what you buy today is practically obsolete tomorrow. This is not an accident. Humans seem unable to leave well enough alone and adapt to what they already have. Shaw’s remark about progress is pertinent, except that I don’t think it’s the unreasonable man alone who is responsible for Shaw’s so-called progress. Instead, it is human nature itself, because it wants faster, easier, better… and ultimately, higher status technologies even if we don’t actually need them. We are being relentlessly manipulated and trained into believing that we must have the next big thing, and nowhere is this more apparent to me than in cellphones and computers.

    I don’t want this to turn into a rant about advertising, but I am so angry and distressed at the commercials I have seen recently that attest to this planned obsolescence phenomenon. One is for Cox Communications and features a recurring, annoying dad character who races around boasting of his blazing fast internet speed and his ability to watch streaming movies and TV everywhere he goes. In a scene where he walks down a staircase, eyes glued to his computer tablet, I found myself wishing the commercial’s punchline would be dad tripping and tumbling to his death from a broken neck. Alas, that wouldn’t sell many subscriptions to Cox. Another commercial, for AT&T, states that they are offering a new plan wherein customers can Upgrade to a New Phone Every Year! With No Activation Fee! And No New Phone Upcharge! All I could think when I saw that one was “holy shit, we are doomed.” I recently met an old friend for dinner, and he was using a cell phone he’d had for 13 years… and it still works. It doesn’t text, or have more than a rudimentary screen, or a (what used to be so cool) flip cover; it’s just a phone. And guess what? We were able to use it to communicate. I found myself feeling a mixture of envy and nostalgia for his decision to stick with the basics.

    What are we doing to ourselves with this attachment to newer, better, faster? What are the ultimate long-term consequences of “progress”? Is it really better that we have increased the earth’s human carrying capacity to billions? Or is our insatiable need to take what’s not really obsolete, or even necessary, and trade up for something better going to lead to a crash? In a way, by refusing to adapt to the world as it is, we are planning our own, ultimate obsolescence.

  • Mini Rant: If A Phone Rings in the Woods

    Mini Rant: If A Phone Rings in the Woods

    I saw a commercial today that normally would have set me off like a bomb, but I must be getting resigned because I just watched and sighed. It was for Verizon and featured a teenage boy, his dad, and the boy’s friend on a hike in the woods. The boy is schooling his dad on the use of his phone and explaining how he can still access the web even though they are in the wilderness. Meanwhile, the friend is taking video of the trees and sending it straight to his web page. In the back of my head I felt the vague urge to throw something at the TV, but inertia kept me slumped on the couch waiting to see which cell provider was responsible for this latest assault on our ability to indulge in an unplugged pursuit. I have to admit that I was less aggravated by Verizon’s ad than I am by the AT&T ads that tout “faster is better.” I know this is the world we live in now; I know the cell providers must compete with one another for our increasingly short attention spans; I know that I risk hypocrisy by ranting about media, TV, commercials, the internet, social media, et al when I use those technologies myself. Yet, I continue to be angered and saddened by what these things herald for the future. I find myself both attracted and repelled by tonight’s Oscar telecast blow-by-blow that I can read either on my friends’ Facebook feeds or on sites such as E! Online, or even on NPR of all places. And, I know that this new world of instant technological communicative semi-social gratification is not a harbinger of a complete societal breakdown; but I am sad for the quiet moments that seem to be losing ground. If a phone rings in the woods, no one should answer it.