When “knowledge workers” (aka the creative class aka non-essential workers aka white-collar workers) were all told to work from home around mid-March, we saw an unprecedented shift in marketing communications. As with everything else, advertising changed overnight.
Many brands seemed stunned into inaction (honestly a good move). But more opted, at least, for some kind of placeholder universal “we’re here for you” message: recall the “uncertain times” emails from every company you’ve ever heard of, or all the “we’re all in this together” ads (cut together in this viral reel). These brand actions quickly became table stakes.
But with no travel and no hotels, in-person shopping a distant memory, online shopping limited to essentials, restaurants closed or doing take-out only, gyms closed, sports events, gallery openings, movies, plays, premieres, panels, and events all cancelled, it seemed obvious that the coronavirus had abruptly ruptured something deeper in marketing: it had put an end to the “aspiration economy.” All of the most obvious ways to live an aspirational life were now off the table. Marketing strategists earnestly announced that aspiration was over, that if everyone is stuck inside it’s impossible to signal status, or, more to the point, it’s impossible to appeal to people in ads via aspiration.
It’s true that the more obvious means of aspirational marketing might now be read as out of touch or irrelevant. But as we all know nothing is impossible. Other strategists apparently perceived the state of affairs differently and the world’s savvier brands adjusted accordingly. Aspiration was not over, it just needed to be rearticulated.
Nike was maybe the first to fully grasp this need. Nike’s early coronavirus ad (early April) pioneered and established the savvy, high-end lingua franca of the form. They were able to redefine the scary, irritating, unknown quarantine as a paradoxical form of selfless self-improvement. “Play for the World,” as the spot is titled, permits you to continue your workouts in the comfort of your home with all your newfound time, but now for the betterment of humanity. Wearing Nike shorts alone in your kitchen is now tantamount to saving “7.8 billion” people.
The ad uses Nike’s go-to “serious moment” look and feel: black and white; normal people and world-famous athletes alike bettering themselves through exercise; small and repetitive serif titles culminating in a simple, rousing platitude. But the real innovation is the straight-from-life and evidently “user-generated” feel of the footage. Every shot, stills and video, is grainy, bad quality, vertical, clearly lifted from Instagram, etc.
Using “real people” in ads, especially Nike’s, even rough-looking like this, isn’t a new idea. But this time, with the knowledge that all production shoots have been shut down, that professional filming is impossible, that Nike had to use this stuff, the reality of the footage takes on a grating – and unreal – feel.
Nike introduced a new kind of aspiration. But because the ad uses tropes of classical aspiration (set in black and white, very obviously anthemic), the largely unglamorous small spaces and lonesome indoor athletes still transmit more or less as they would in normal times. The details are different, but the triumphant tone is at least familiar. Basically, it’s a Nike ad, set indoors.
For a much more insidious articulation of the aspirational stay at home aesthetic, there is Uber’s coronavirus ad, “Thank You for Not Riding.” The blunt “confidence” of the line “Thank you for not riding Uber” obscures just how subtly Uber is working here.
Ostensibly a message about the virtues of staying home “for everyone who can’t” (itself an extremely vague and subtle othering of a huge section of the population, who cannot afford Uber and therefore do not exist), the ad is really laying the groundwork for the affluent and mobile Uber customer base to feel OK about their newfound confinement – and to remember to use Uber when everything’s back up and running again.
On the one hand, it’s a strange move for a mobility company to send a love letter to not going anywhere. But that’s the superficial “newsworthiness” of the ad. Underneath, what we really get is a normalization and – more dangerously – a romanticization of quarantine aesthetics in service of the image of a company who’s entire “non-employee” workforce of drivers has always been treated poorly and has now been completely abandoned. We get a happy face in a dire time, courtesy of a company facing increasing regulatory scrutiny and mounting losses, even before the pandemic. (Yesterday, Uber also laid off 3,500 employees – not non-employee drivers – on a three-minute Zoom call.)
But mostly what we get from the ad is an old signal articulated in a new way. Taking an Uber has always meant you’re well off – or least think you are – and can afford to pay to have someone who makes almost no money drive you around or run errands for you. Now, thanks to this ad, not taking an Uber signals the same thing.
But besides the Uber-specific concerns, most troubling to me is the speed at which staying at home has been aestheticized. Here we are, nowhere near the “end” of the pandemic, and by early April, Uber is showing us what a perfectly lovely way of life this is.
And it’s by no means limited to the Uber commercial, either. Articles, Instagrams, and other brand’s ads are all doing their best to strictly define the contours of the quarantine aesthetic: the house, the yoga mat, the stretching, the backyard, the green space, the screens, the FaceTime or Zoom with an easy-going aging relative, the laughter, the baking, the dance breaks, the running around the house with the kids, the quiet moment of contemplation, the giggles, the doodles, the sweatpants.
Obviously these quotidian acts do not exist for everyone. Obviously they have been carefully selected as shorthand for “quarantine” in order to alleviate anxiety, signal status, and make it clear that, as a customer audience, you are going to be OK. Obviously they are aspirational.
Hewing to the already pervasive casually cluttered lived-in millennial feel of almost every DTC brand’s marketing (especially those that have to do with the home), the Uber commercial portends not the end of the “domestic flex” but instead the epitome of it.
Watch it carefully. You will not see in 1 minute 15 seconds a single shot of someone working, even from home, a single shot of someone stressed, a single shot of someone unhappy, a single shot of someone on the phone trying to get through to the Department of Labor to confirm their unemployment benefits, a single shot of sickness. Nothing is out of place even though, we understand, the world is totally upside down right now and sorry if the house is a little cluttered!
This is our world, made to look real – but much, much better than the reality – and sold back to us while the reality is actually, currently, still happening. As Baudrillard wrote, this is “the war become film even before being filmed.”
But in the end is there anything more “aspirational” than having a house, a loving family, a bunch of stuff, and free time? Is this really even a rearticulation at all?
Live Bait 🐊
Lis Smith (former Buttigieg strategist) floated the idea of a Joe Biden Fortnite appearance/hologram, ala Travis Scott.
Last week, Trump held a “virtual town hall” interview on Fox News at the Lincoln Memorial.
And David Muir was criticized for not pushing back on Trump during an ABC News interview.
The House Judiciary Committee requested that Bezos testify before Congress in a letter; “Although we expect that you will testify on a voluntary basis, we reserve the right to resort to compulsory process if necessary,” the letter read.
Welcome back to the office.
Scott Galloway and Anand Giridharadas both have new TV shows on Vice.
“Lockdown TV” ratings peaked in March.
Netflix already announced Extraction 2.