In the late 1970s and early 1980s, in public spaces in large cities, it was not uncommon to be accosted by an outgoing young person passing out stickers. The stickers said “I Love Your Smile” and featured a picture of a cute, smiling animal, often a Cheshire cat. The patter went like this: “Hey, you’ve got a great smile and I love your smile and I want everyone to know that, so here’s a sticker that proves I love your smile.” If you paused for this and accepted the sticker and made eye contact, the clean-cut young person would follow up with an appeal for funds; not much, a dollar or two, to be used for some vague but worthy cause, sending poor kids to camp or something like that.
The fresh-faced young people were members of the Unification Church of Sun Myung Moon – better known as Moonies – and they were, on one hand, raising money, and on the other, marking territory. The stickers, often distributed to other young people, wound up on backpacks and notebooks. The message they broadcast – to those in the know – was that the person with the sticker stopped long enough to talk, at least once, so if you’re a Moonie working the airport and you see one of those stickers coming, you know the person attached to it is a likely candidate for further fundraising or even potential recruitment.
I was reminded of this the other day when, stopped at an intersection, I looked up to see a billboard that said, “We Love to See You Smile.” Behind this was a 10 by 20-foot photo of an Egg McMuffin. I thought, “Now we know what happened to all the ex-Moonies. They’re writing ad copy for McDonald’s.”
Which came first, the chicken or the Egg McMuffin? Did McDonald’s learn their tricks from the Unification Church, or was it the other way around? Were you hungry before you saw the billboard or did McDonald’s plant the idea as a means of selling you some empty calories?
Here’s another question: do the ends justify the means? It’s not just Madison Avenue and Reverend Moon who play these games. Amnesty International sends out stickers with their direct mail solicitations whether you give them money or not. You put the sticker on your car, a year later another request for cash comes from Amnesty. Your spouse opens the letter, remembers the sticker on the car and writes a check.
Here’s a beautiful example: in 1974, the powers that be at St. Margaret Mary’s Church decided to update the hymnal, to include songs that would appeal to young people. One of the news hymns began, “I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony…” Remember that one? It’s from a Coke commercial. I was 13 years old and I thought, “What is it we’re supposed to be worshipping here?” Twenty-six years later, I still don’t have an answer.
What’s the product? You’re the product. I walk down the street and all I see are human billboards – Nike, Ralph Lauren, Adidas, GAP. All the lines are blurred, the consumer carries the ad, the advertiser marks the territory, there’s a Starbucks on every corner, so even if you want something else, you can’t find it and eventually give in to fatigue and buy what they’re selling.
Twenty years ago, parents worried the Moonies would seduce their kids, turning them into automatons with mind control and subliminal messages. Well, guess what?
I Love Your Smile
In the late 1970s and early 1980s, in public spaces in large cities, it was not uncommon to be accosted by an outgoing young person passing out stickers. The stickers said “I Love Your Smile” and featured a picture of a cute, smiling animal, often a Cheshire cat. The patter went like this: “Hey, you’ve got a great smile and I love your smile and I want everyone to know that, so here’s a sticker that proves I love your smile.” If you paused for this and accepted the sticker and made eye contact, the clean-cut young person would follow up with an appeal for funds; not much, a dollar or two, to be used for some vague but worthy cause, sending poor kids to camp or something like that.
The fresh-faced young people were members of the Unification Church of Sun Myung Moon – better known as Moonies – and they were, on one hand, raising money, and on the other, marking territory. The stickers, often distributed to other young people, wound up on backpacks and notebooks. The message they broadcast – to those in the know – was that the person with the sticker stopped long enough to talk, at least once, so if you’re a Moonie working the airport and you see one of those stickers coming, you know the person attached to it is a likely candidate for further fundraising or even potential recruitment.
I was reminded of this the other day when, stopped at an intersection, I looked up to see a billboard that said, “We Love to See You Smile.” Behind this was a 10 by 20-foot photo of an Egg McMuffin. I thought, “Now we know what happened to all the ex-Moonies. They’re writing ad copy for McDonald’s.”
Which came first, the chicken or the Egg McMuffin? Did McDonald’s learn their tricks from the Unification Church, or was it the other way around? Were you hungry before you saw the billboard or did McDonald’s plant the idea as a means of selling you some empty calories?
Here’s another question: do the ends justify the means? It’s not just Madison Avenue and Reverend Moon who play these games. Amnesty International sends out stickers with their direct mail solicitations whether you give them money or not. You put the sticker on your car, a year later another request for cash comes from Amnesty. Your spouse opens the letter, remembers the sticker on the car and writes a check.
Here’s a beautiful example: in 1974, the powers that be at St. Margaret Mary’s Church decided to update the hymnal, to include songs that would appeal to young people. One of the news hymns began, “I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony…” Remember that one? It’s from a Coke commercial. I was 13 years old and I thought, “What is it we’re supposed to be worshipping here?” Twenty-six years later, I still don’t have an answer.
What’s the product? You’re the product. I walk down the street and all I see are human billboards – Nike, Ralph Lauren, Adidas, GAP. All the lines are blurred, the consumer carries the ad, the advertiser marks the territory, there’s a Starbucks on every corner, so even if you want something else, you can’t find it and eventually give in to fatigue and buy what they’re selling.
Twenty years ago, parents worried the Moonies would seduce their kids, turning them into automatons with mind control and subliminal messages. Well, guess what?
I Love Your Smile.