No Simple Code: Google and the Exploitation of Altruism – Mary Collins

“No Simple Code”: Google and the Exploitation of Altruism

MARY COLLINS

A Google ad appears on the TV screen. The scene is set with a contemplative piano chord as a combination of numbers and letters printed on cream-colored paper appears in frame. As audiences across the US prepare to be mesmerized between chips and dip and football-related small talk, the chord changes and the advertisement cuts to another picture of a similar code. It is not obvious what context the codes are in or what they mean—they are simply there. Then the narrator begins to speak in a calm, soothing voice. He reassures the consumers by telling them that for most people, these codes won’t mean anything. As he speaks, the soft piano chords continue in the background, and with each chord shift another picture of a code shows up. Some are typewritten, some are printed, some are red, some are black. In many of them the grainy texture of the paper is evident, while in others the background is smooth. The narrator slowly reveals the significance of the codes, explaining that only 7% of viewers will understand what they mean. He describes how this 7% of people will have made big sacrifices in their lives, spending time away from loved ones and putting themselves in difficult and dangerous situations. Images of soldiers from different ethnic backgrounds can be glimpsed as the narrator states that this 7% does what they do to keep “the rest of us” safe. As the montage comes to an end, the ad’s branding is revealed for the first time: a Google search bar pops up, and the phrase “job search for veterans 12B” is typed into it before our eyes. Immediately, three well-paying jobs pop up below the search term, showing off Google’s search capabilities—all redeemed through the conveniently-placed caveat that “no simple code can define who you are.” But what message is this ad really conveying?

This advertisement was created by Google in partnership with ad agencies Essence and PHD to be aired during the 2019 Super Bowl. The agencies pride themselves on their revolutionary advertising approaches which attempt to extend the limits of what an advertisement can do and be—Essence claims

that they are actually “making advertising more valuable” through their work. Such strategies can be seen at play in the elegant, streamlined nature of the Google ad, which strives to cut through the clutter and noise of surrounding Super Bowl ads. It accomplishes this goal by making an emotional appeal to patriotism at a personal level. The Google brand becomes linked to charitable actions. Want to support veterans? Support Google, and you’ll be doing so by extension, the advertisement suggests. This is an uplifting message, and it isn’t entirely far from the truth—the advertisement is nodding towards a branch of a larger campaign, “Grow with Google”, which is focused on creating opportunities for veterans directly through Google itself. According to the initiative’s website, Google is also helping veterans build careers in IT, connect with veteran-owned businesses, and start businesses of their own. Yet however admirable Google’s actions towards veterans may (or may not) be, the “Job Search for Veterans” ad is engaged in a powerful act of manipulation, preying upon our own altruism as well as the present sociopolitical moment in the US. By presenting Google’s product as a solution to veteran rehabilitation, this advertisement is making a larger statement: that powerful, profit-driven corporations like Google can be trusted to unite fragmented viewpoints and ultimately guide society’s moral compass. The ad activates our longing to engage in meaningful action and enact social change, but then channels these altruistic impulses right back into consumerism.

In order to strengthen a sense of trust with its American audience, this advertisement crafts a carefully apolitical appeal to patriotism. It focuses on the individual faces of veterans rather than endorsing specific military conflicts or actions. Although audiences may take issue with the agenda of the US military at large, they are not likely to be lacking in empathy for the sacrifices made by particular veterans, especially when the ad is actually showing repeated images of their faces. In this way, Google associates itself with a form of abstract American nationalism that has the power to make everybody feel good about their country, no matter what side of the political spectrum they identify with. This is a key aspect to the ad’s effectiveness, because it is attempting to appeal to a broad range of Americans in a time of intense political polarization. The Super Bowl is a rare occasion during which advertisers have the chance to capture the attention of a massive number

of consumers at one time. As a cultural event, the Super Bowl has become much more than simply a football game, and many people watch the game for the ads as much as for anything else. Rather than shock the room through a controversial message like some Super Bowl ads, Google takes the milder approach of trying to reach as many viewers as possible across the political spectrum. Although the advertisement appears to have a strong, serious message, it is, first and foremost, formatted to be inoffensive. It establishes a certain untouchable neutrality. The message is not political, but it is serious. It’s not something to be joked about or questioned. Therefore, Google, by association, is also not something to be questioned. The gravitas and neutrality are further enhanced through the ad’s comfortable aesthetics—the gentle piano music, the soothing narrator, and the slow typing into the search bar, accompanied by soft keyboard sound effects. All of this creates a somber tone, but simultaneously increases the audience’s sense of comfort despite the rapid juxtaposition of shots. The aesthetics leave the impression that Google is making an inspirational statement even though they aren’t actually saying much (beyond commending the service of veterans and showing that they can type a code into a search bar to look for a job).

The advertisement further overcomes political divides by specifically regrouping its audience within the first few moments of screen time. Rather than reinforcing the separation of right- and left-leaning political parties, it immediately identifies the audience as veterans and non-veterans, a division which paradoxically overcomes the audience’s pre-existing fragmentation. The bulk of the text is repeatedly addressed specifically towards “the 7%” of Americans who have served in the military. They are the insiders, the ones with legitimate experience-based opinions on this subject, and the rest of us are, in a sense, sheltered outsiders. And as the pictures of military profiles flash before our eyes, they seem full of insider details, from codes to titles to uniforms. We feel, perhaps, slightly guilty that we don’t know more about the people who are serving our country. We want to be inside the loop.

Clearly Google is not buying premium Super Bowl ad space to reach only 7% of the American public. In actuality, the ad has been carefully created to speak to both veterans and non-veterans. The non-veterans are the outsiders,

but the ad makes them want to become insiders, playing on a sense of guilt and obligation. And when the Google logo pops up at the end, it satisfies this impulse, turning the outsiders into insiders once again. Google resonates as something that everybody can understand—something that can supposedly help everybody—so at the end of the ad, the non-veterans can relapse again into a comfortable complacency with their varying degrees of separation from military sacrifice. The feeling of satisfaction earned at the end of this ad is characteristic of the innovative style of advertising that Google attempts to pioneer. It’s part of their brand to create ads that invite viewers into more powerful messages and movements. Allegedly, these cutting-edge advertisements are the ads of the future—a new and improved version of advertising that does something different for the world. However, in reality, they’re drawing on the same psychological tricks that ads have been utilizing for decades and using them on a larger (and therefore potentially more harmful) scale. In his essay “Masters of Desire,” Jack Solomon states that “America is a nation of fantasizers” (164), and points out the ways in which advertisers exploit the subconscious fantasies of the nation. His examples are from his own particular cultural moment and most applicable to the 1980s, but his underlying point remains relevant today: ad agencies identify pre-existing desires within consumers and make ads that appeal to these wishes. Some ads prey upon consumers’ more transient desires for sex or food or popularity. Google’s advertisements are simply formulated with a different focus. If we view Google’s ads with Solomon’s theories in mind, we can see that they are, in fact, exploiting our fantasies as much as any other ad. They merely create an appearance of being unlike other ads because they cater to a slightly different category of fantasies. Ads like “Job Search for Veterans” prey directly upon our desire to make the world a better place, and they offer Google itself as a fulfillment of this desire. After watching the ad and experiencing a guilt-driven longing to understand each other and care for the people around us (in this case, specifically for veterans who have served in the armed forces), we are told that Google has it covered. We don’t have to worry about anything. We get all of the satisfaction of caring for our country without actually helping anybody.

And, ultimately, behind this elaborate story about veterans, what is really being advertised here? Taken at face value, the advertisement is selling a simple tool that is part of a search engine. It may be a good and useful tool, but it’s hardly the solution to all the complex issues surrounding the rehabilitation of veterans. In fact, according to a recent NPR article, it isn’t even a particularly original idea: “the Google tool is hardly new; these kinds of code translators have been around for decades and with mixed results” (Cheslow). The NPR article questions the validity of the ad based on the usefulness of the product it markets and the legitimacy of Google’s other efforts to assist veterans. This is an important line of inquiry, but it draws its motive from the surface level of the ad and fails to consider the ad’s actual purpose. There is clearly another level of manipulation at work behind the straightforward presentation of this job search product. Google isn’t selling this tool—it’s free for anyone to use, so nobody’s going out to buy it after watching the commercial. Instead, what Google is really aiming for is the creation of brand loyalty. As Raymond Williams points out in his lengthy essay, “Advertising: The Magic System”, written in 1961, ads have evolved to move away from simple product description. Williams says that advertisement “has passed the frontier of the selling of goods and services and has become involved in the teaching of social and personal values” (334). The Google ad takes this idea a step further. Google is selling our “social and personal values” back to us, and it is doing so in exchange for our attention, rather than our currency—or so it would have us believe.

In the end, when we click through Google, spurred on by the brand loyalty inspired by an emotionally enthralling ad, we will be exposed to dozens upon dozens of other advertisements, tailor made for our consumption thanks to the analysis of our own viewing habits. These ads likely won’t make us feel like we’re part of some grand movement to save American veterans, but they might lead us to, say, buy a pair of shoes. So, Google’s Super Bowl ad becomes, in a sense, a secondary-level ad. If you follow the money, “Job Search for Veterans” is actually aimed at exposing Super Bowl viewers to a wave of other advertisements. It is full of empty promises. In a time of deeply-rooted political polarization, the act of watching the Super Bowl is one of the few events that brings Americans from all sides of the political spectrum together in one

cultural moment. Ads like “Job Search for Veterans” come tantalizingly close to creating a moment of genuine connectivity and emotional resonance across these differences. But they drop the ball by leaving audiences with a reassuring promise that consumerism can create meaningful connections and solve largescale societal issues. Google feeds the “nation of fantasizers” a fantasy of the nation which is far from the truth. Although this particular ad may be part of an admirable campaign focused on building opportunities for veterans, it is still very much tied to a larger system of profit-driven manipulation. It avoids making a provocative statement, lulling us into comfortable complacency. In our search for human connection and social change we should aim higher than the pseudo-activism of apolitical advertisements. If we can begin to recognize the carefully-crafted manipulation behind these ads, then perhaps companies like Google will lose the power to take advantage of our sense of altruism.

WORKS CITED

Cheslow, Daniella. “Google Talks Up Vets In Super Bowl Ad. Does It Walk

The Walk?” NPR, NPR, 6 Feb. 2019, www.npr.org/2019/02/06/691553066/google-talks-up-vets-in-super-bowlad-does-it-walk-the-walk

“Homepage.” Essence, Essence. www.essenceglobal.com. Accessed April. 2019.

“Grow with Google.” Google, grow.google/programs/veteranscommitment/. Accessed April. 2019 “Job Search for Veterans.” YouTube, Google, 2019, www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJopp9RlPJc. Accessed April. 2019. Solomon, Jack. “Masters of Desire: The Culture of American Advertising.” Signs of Life in the U.S.A. - Brought to You B(u)y: The Signs of Advertising Summary &

Analysis, Bedford/ St. Martin’s, Boston, 2012, pp. 160–170. Williams, Raymond. “Advertising : The Magic System.” The Advertising and

Consumer Culture Reader, Routledge, 2009, pp. 13–24.