Some ad campaigns take a while to explain. It's not so easy to make the connection between Fabio and margarine, for example. Breath mints probably won't help you sneak past security guards to get inside a club, but you wouldn't know that from watching Mentos commercials. More recently, people have been scratching their heads trying to understand why Benetton's new billboard and magazine ads feature guys on death row.
If these were just actors in prison uniforms pretending to await execution, and if there was some tasteless punch line like, "I wouldn't be caught dead in this outfit," or "Bad fashion should be a crime," then this would only be a case of vulgar and tacky marketing. But since the people are real and their names, birthdays, crimes and sentences are listed beside their pictures, the ads seem like social commentary ... except for the trendy designer logo in one corner. Puzzled readers are left wondering what, exactly, is being said or sold.
According to Benetton's Web site, the "We on Death Row" campaign is just part of their corporate responsibility to contribute to important social debates. Not everyone agrees. Before the fashion label could appeal, Sears announced it would "terminate" all sales of Benetton merchandise. Advocates for the death penalty publicly condemned the campaign as an attempt to humanize convicted killers, make light of their victims and transform murderers into the Whaaazup Guys of Death Row as a publicity stunt.
And in an editorial entitled "The Colors of Exploitation," Advertising Age found Benetton guilty of shameless self-promotion: "There is no brand-not a single one-that has a right to increase its sales on the backs, on the misery, on the fates of condemned men and women, much less their slaughtered victims," Editor-in-Chief Bob Garfield said. Ouch.
On the other hand, what if Benetton's campaign is a genuine attempt to speak out on a major human rights issue? No matter how the company chose to publicize its stance on capital punishment, the effort inevitably would seem like a sleazy marketing ploy. Some might argue that a business has no business in politics, but in practice, most companies are eager to promote themselves as responsible corporate citizens who support lots of causes. American Express was more than happy to tell customers about its "Charge Against Hunger" campaign, in which the company donated three cents of every transaction to food banks and service groups. (A kind gesture, but wouldn't American Express feed more people by urging cardholders to go out and charge entire meals for the needy, rather than buy more CDs and run up larger credit bills in the name of philanthropy?)
Rather than cast a spotlight on the morality of executions, Benetton's billboards draw more attention to the dilemma consumers face every day: How does a person control where their money goes? Ecology-minded Rainforest Crunch ice cream addicts now must consider kicking the Ben and Jerry's habit, since the ice cream maker has been bought out by Unilever, the company that sells tons of petroleum-based cosmetics and cleaners annually.
And though buying a slice of Domino's Pizza doesn't support any controversial causes directly, the restaurant chain's founder, according to an article in The New York Times, uses his share of the profits to fund opponents of abortion. While some people might feel more comfortable if every product came with a list of interest groups (so you could choose between a Personal Pro-Life Pan Pizza or a Pepperoni Pizza with Extra Choice), most people would rather not think of shopping trips as indirect political fundraisers.
Many Americans don't like the idea that their money may be spent eventually on things they don't want to buy. But as soon as you've handed the guy at the natural food store $5 for organic vegetables, he's free to turn around and get a burger at McDonald's. It's a tough truth to swallow, but none of us get to decide exactly what we pay for.