It's none of my business

Finally the auditorium darkens, the red curtain steps aside and my anticipation begins to build. A stream of bright light whizzes above our heads and brings life to the unadorned canvas. The sound of chomping and rustling is quickly muted by the opening bars of a colourful advert for a renowned alcoholic beverage. However much I want to skip to the movie trailers and to the main feature, I cannot help but imagine the glee of the offending advertising executive, rubbing his hands together, for in this arena the potency of the message, through the clarity of sound and vastness of the images, is difficult to ignore. And though I have never given a moments consideration to which ads may be showing when choosing a film to watch and have never given my explicit consent (I have never been asked), there is, what you might call a collective acceptance, that adverts are part of the pre-feature programme. It can even be argued that decades of movie goers have given their consent, whether through docility or indifference. It may also be correct to say that as a society of consumers, advertising is a product of our desire to buy nice things.

The adverts themselves are not all bad. Some of them that night in Screen Number 1 were visual feasts. All were aurally bombastic and one was down right funny. But it is not with these particular promotional vehicles that I am vexed. It was what came after the panoramic tracking shots of the shackled mother, running in her expensive trainers (presumably towards freedom or some other intangible) that was the catalyst for this piece.

The empty swing, the sad mommy-in-waiting-no-more. The emotive blackmail of the imagery. Abortions are bad. Morally corrupting and will be regretted. I was uncomfortable and my partner shared this feeling. We were not the only ones. There was an agenda and it was being rammed down our pop-corn stuffed mouths. Aren't all adverts pushing some agenda, I hear you say? To a certain extent that is true. Most ads are played out in a competitive field, jostling for position. All trying to convince you that their way is better. All trying to convince you that there is only one choice. But we know better (don't we?). Could you imagine a pro-choice segment promoting the benefits of abortion as means of contraception (as if it would). The outrage would be, understandably, deafening.

In the subsequent days I wondered why I felt so affronted watching the anti-abortion promotion and not so the 'commercials.' Obviously there is an element of acclimatisation regarding adverts selling commodities rather than morals. I wondered was it the largely impersonal nature of corporate advertising versus the poignantly private nature that decisions such as abortion are made in. Sitting in the cinema I was aware of the ironic lack of choice I had in viewing this particular piece of film.

The next day my girlfriend informed me she had sent a number of letters of complaint. Among others she sent one to the Broadcasting Commission of Ireland, who promptly responded with a letter informing her that the cinema in question is privately owned and as such falls outside their remit, but did helpfully suggest she write to the Advertising Standards Authority for Ireland (ASAI). She also sent a letter to the newly elected local Fine Gael TD, Lucinda Creighton. Weeks passed with no response and then finally, just before Christmas, we received a Fine Gael stamped envelope in our letter box. However, to our surprise it was not the response we had expected but a rather impersonal and dare I say it, cheesy Christmas greeting card.

I was indignant. Was she hoping that she would take pride of place on the mantles of Dublin-South East constituents? Hoping that this trite and hollow stunt would shift her from the realm of maneuvering politician to that of dear friend or trusted neighbour? Later I noticed every letter box in our building was stuffed with the same empty gesture. I find it bizarre that someone I have never met, lest seen in the flesh, has sent me a greeting card with her feigned beaming countenance on it. The TD to constituent ratio in Ireland is the highest in the EU. At last count, 25,541 constituents per Parliament member. This sort of mass marketing campaign might qualify as the personal touch in democracies such as Germany or America but apart from the card and a few election posters, Lucinda Creighton is not on my radar. Perhaps it is a consequence of the modern, commercial, too busy to talk Ireland that we now live in. It's a pity there are shackles that our progress can't quite break free from. We may have the Celtic Tiger, but you have to go to the zoo to see it.

Maybe I'm on shaky ground, presuming that a woman of her standing, of her education, or her generation would be as appalled as I was when viewing this pro-life agitprop. The debate on advertising in the public domain is not one that should be solely aimed at the protection of children. It affects us all. Our priorities are askew. For example the type of beer you drink is not important. Running shoes are not a lifestyle change. No matter how many times we are told it is.

Type www.asai.ie into your web browser and the first thing you may notice is the statement,

'The essence of good advertising:
All marketing communications should be legal, decent, honest and truthful.'

It would be difficult to argue that the advert was illegal, or dishonest and decency often is a subjective notion. But the next line is more interesting, it states;

'All marketing communications should be prepared with a sense of responsibility both to the consumer and to society.'

This is were the advert becomes unstuck. The sense of responsibility was only to the narrow morals of the Family and Life Organisation (www.familyandlife.org), who commissioned the piece. It must also be noted that for all practicalities abortions are illegal in this state, so this was a ballyhoo aimed at women who must leave the island to avail of what is in many of our EU partners, a woman's own right. It is not what the narrator had to say, which I think you'll agree was uncontroversial, non specific and in general, quite a positive message, that was the problem, ' Not all the choices we make are good for us...or for others. Choose the positive option. Choose life. Life is precious. But the images in the piece smacked of moral superiority, narrow mindedness, and an over simplification of what I am sure for most women, no matter what decision is reached, a complex and difficult one. It could have been a cereal ad, perhaps high in moral fibre. Or one of those weight loss spots where there's a 'before and after', sad face, happy face. Abortion, sad face. No abortion, happy face! Some cinema owners took the money and ran. Others refused to screen it, which led to to call to boycott the offending picture houses (http://www.familyandlife.org/Abortion-and-Embryo/442/8/16.html). But these are intensely personal matters and should remain private. It's none of my business. Is it any of theirs?


You can view the video at: http://www.familyandlife.org/media/Choose_Life.mpg