… just another blahg …

“What good fortune for those in power that people do not think.”

Interesting thought, especially when you consider the role of the music or movie industries or even advertising in popular culture. I often find people in the biz that consider others - especially consumers - as fools. Then they deliver mediocrity of a kind that is really unacceptable, but it is often lapped up!

Unfortunate that those words are Hitler’s and we still see his vision play out day after day around us. Isn’t it time that people became less naive to the phenomenon? It might be wise to heighten awareness and learn how to see through sugar-coated manipulations. But more than anything else, I wish we would all pay just a little heed to to our intuition.

No matter how delightful the concoction, I’ve always found its name vaguely distasteful. Some say it refers to Queen Mary I of England who was known for her violent persecution of Protestants. Others say it is just a cheeky reference to the color of the drink. I sense from it (especially when you consider its non - alcoholic counterpart, the Virgin Mary) a mild irreverence for Christianity. It’s funny, sure, but also sort of irreverent…

I’m no proponent of church (or for that matter any temple, mosque or synagogue), but I’m no fan of deriding religion either. In fact, I find organized religion fascinating - from a marketing perspective. Seems to me that the need for something like it is a hallmark of humanity and I am curious about why organized religion “sells.” (I apologize if this is way too simplistic or mundane or offensive to some, but I had to start formulating my thoughts on this somehow.)

So, I believe, organized religion tries - and usually haplessly fails on the whole - to satisfy a few very basic human needs:

Our need for congregation. Simply getting together with other people regularly, for the sense of community, being part of a social group, hanging out with likeminded others, call it what you will. When I was little, my parents held traditional celebrations of a couple of religious festivals, and the aura of purity and cohesion during those times at home was lovely. But we also satisfy this need at places of non-worship, such as the cofffee shop down the street, where for instance, some of us to the left might congregate and then complain about those to the right.

Our need for devotion. We need an earnest, almost mindless attachment in our lives, whether it is to a person/s, pet, cause, or a hobby. Really, art could be a great substitute for organized religion. Unfortunately, the focus on artistic passion is in dire need the world over.

Our need for hope. What guarantee do I have that I will be or keep being happy? None whatsoever. So maybe I should pray to someone/something outside myself in order to truly believe that it is all going to be okay. But perhaps I could also find that within myself somehow, and I could also perhaps learn to enjoy (or at the very least, accept) the present moment a little more. (So could I have that Bloody Mary now please?)

Our need for harmony. I believe we have a need to feel that we are one with the universe. I went to a Christian private school, and singing hymns was a part of our daily morning routine. We called it assembly, and raising our voices together in praise of ‘Him’ was one of my favorite parts of the day. I realized, when I was a teeanger, that the feeling I got waving a lighter around with thousands of other people at a Europe concert satisfied (albeit in a slightly different way) that same need for harmony.

Our need for distinction. All of us want to feel like there is a difference between us and them, to see ourselves as one of those who know the difference between right and wrong. I am a Christian/Hindu/Muslim/Jew/atheist… religious affiliations and non-affiliations are great identity-generators.

Our need for indignation. We unfortunately have some misguided need to enhance ourselves (and those we associate with) and derogate those we feel are not like us (i.e. those we don’t or can’t associate with). Organized religion satisfies the need for an ego-boost particularly well. Consider this however: I tune in to preachers on the radio on and off. Besides giving me fodder for thought, it also allows me my self-righteous indulgence of the day. How am I different from the rest of the world? “Well, don’t you see, I can see right through those manipulative sermons. Oh, the poor suckers who fall for that stuff every week…” One might say some of us are religiously irreligious.

Our need for rituals. There’s something very gratifying about doing something familiar regularly, whether it is eating a bagel every day, taking your dog to the park every Sunday morning, or praying every night. We are creatures of habit, and again, organized religion happens to step in and satisfy this craving exceedingly well.

Our need for tradition. This one is close to but not quite the one above. Tradition makes us feel like we have a legacy, that we are of historical value, and so we must do things a certain way. For instance, I can’t imagine being married in a purple outfit, no matter how much I like the colour or how anti-establishment I’m feeling. Ah, tradition, good old tradition.

Our need for escape. It is a harsh reality sometimes, and we all need a break from it on and off. So some might escape with alcohol or drugs, others with exercise or food, and yet others with religion.

Our need for mentorship. So we are all a little lazy and would like someone to help us with our homework, in this case with something that should be as personal as spiritual deliberation. It’s not just that though; it really is nice to be able to trust someone we look up to in guiding us in the “right” direction. However, should we not pay a little more attention to the credentials, intentions, and wisdom of who we trust? (I’m thinking of the likes of Ted Haggard and Raj Thackeray, ugh.)

Our need for awe. This one I find particularly interesting. When you look at a beautiful cathedral for instance, you might see how it is designed to inspire a feeling of awe. It juxtaposes a tiny little you against a massive and beautiful monument often times associated with some sort of “creator”. Awe has two components: a sense of utter humility mixed with a paradoxical sense of upliftment. I think it is a very addictive emotion. I realized this more so in Los Angeles - there are tons of newagey religious outfits around (the L.Ron Hubbard building on Sunset Boulevard is huge and straight out of a sci-fi movie), and yet the worship of celebrities is way more pervasive than any other in the city. The awe generated by nature (think of the Grand Canyon, a magnificent sunset, or a really pretty tree) could be a great substitute for that created by religion or Paris Hilton. Sad thing is, it is nature (catastrophes like hurricanes/floods and natural diseases like the plague/cancer) that religions are created to “explain” and superstitions come about to “control”.

The point is this: we could satisy all these needs in ways other than religion, if we just bothered ourselves with a little curiosity, observation, engagement, and introspection. But therein lies the irony, doesn’t it? The garden-variety of most religions drastically curbs introspection, ceremoniously puts blinders on people, and systematically detracts from our innate curiosity about ourselves, our worlds, and how deeply personal spirituality should be. Simply obey, do not question, practise rituals, live your life just so, be afraid, feel guilt, look down covertly if not overtly on other religions, proselytize, fight wars for your beliefs. This is how religion usually manifests itself today, when in reality, it should be classified under philosophy, and each religious text just be considered somebody else’s point of view - one that you are free to agree or disagree with, so long as you are discerning and careful to avoid a herd-like mentality.

Let’s say cheers to that.

PS: Just in case you were misled here by the title of this entry, then I hope this recipe will leave you a little less disappointed!

1/2 fresh lime juice

1 tsp wasabi, 1 tsp hot pepper sauce, or both if you are brave

6 cups low-salt tomato/veggie juice

3 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

3/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups vodka

Combine lime juice and wasabi with a whisk, until wasabi dissolves. Pour into a pitcher, and add juice, Worcestershire sauce, hot pepper sauce and salt. Chill. Stir in vodka and serve over ice, with a stalk of celery or pickled asparagus. Sprinkle on some crushed pepper. Serves 8. Enjoy.

Take a quick look at these commercials. The first is from Airtel - I applauded its creativity wholeheartedly just a few weeks ago. The other - and presumably older of the two - is for New Zealand Telecom. (I happened upon the second on this rather noteworthy blog.)

You might find the overlap between the two spots intriguing…

So what do you think: coincidence, plagiarism, or just cryptomnesia?

Have you often wondered why the television set seems to blare much louder during the commercials between programming?

I dug around a little and it appears that the peak levels of commercials are actually no louder than that of the shows they pepper. It’s just that the average level of sound in TV ads is greater and so the perceived loudness is higher too. But I digress. Regardless of whether or not they do get louder, they sure seem to get louder, and so we turn the sound off/down or change the channel.

Wouldn’t it make sense for advertisers to tone the sound down so that we aren’t knocked off our sofas? To keep us from constantly clutching at our remotes, one finger on the mute button, in dread of the commercial breaks? Perhaps on more than one count…

Communication researcher Carson Wagner has recently found that watching anti-drug commercials under conditions of low attention is actually more convincing than watching under conditions of high attention. One reason offered up as an explanation for this phenomenon is that when pro-drug viewers are watching with full-on attention, they have the resources required to find faults with the message. They refute it and, in so doing, are less persuaded by it.

That kind of ‘counter-argument’ of the ad’s message doesn’t happen when viewers are watching the commercials in their peripheral view. In the latter case, the associations between the concept ‘drug’ and the concept ‘bad’ are subtly reinforced, despite - and perhaps even especially because of - a lack of complete attention on part of the viewer.

The same could easily apply to selling brands. The ads would play at slightly lower volumes and yet reiterate the connection between the ‘brand’ concerned and the concept ‘good’. It would be a softer sell, sure, but a sell nonetheless. And at least it wouldn’t encourage viewers to turn the darn telly off or have them change the channel to escape those in-your-face “breaks.”

Also, commercials that are replayed incessantly might not become as off-putting as they do when they are too loud. Anyone who watched the India-Australia test match at Perth on TV this week could vividly recall the Airtel annoyance. It actually made my father swear he would never subscribe to Airtel - even though he considers its message quite good. The intrusiveness of the ad somehow got attached to the brand for him, and I suspect that he is not alone.

So, advertisers, hear hear! It would probably be wise to turn the volume of your ads DOWN.

I had the honour and pleasure of meeting Santosh Desai recently. He is one of India’s foremost account planners and a weekly columnist (typically in the role of a commentator on popular culture) for the Times of India. Chatting with him was uplifting for he is eloquent, down-to-earth, and has integrity. It gives me great hope that people like him (those with a holistic bent of mind) have a voice in advertising and media in India.

Here is one of his columns from the TOI. I think it nicely demonstrates how his unique brand of acute observation, unapologetic introspection, and nuanced articulation might generate deep insights in to why we feel and do the things we feel and do. (How this sort of thinking might be relevant to understanding consumer behavior is perhaps easy to see, but more on it later.)  

THE FEAR OF GIVING

Old ladies begging in winter nights get me. I am always shaken, disturbed and moved in a way that goes beyond sympathy or pity. It seems colossally unfair that one should be so vulnerable, so shrivelled by penury at this stage of one’s life. Of course the sight of poverty always induces guilt pangs, the homeless make one uncomfortable, the idea of street children failing to find avenues to channelise their obvious energies is difficult to live with but, for some reason, the idea of old ladies in winter wearing smudged glasses held up by strings has the most powerful emotional impact on me. And yet, for all the trauma this sight induces in me, I find it impossible to actually reach into my pocket and give her anything.

I think about it with increasing desperation and then the light turns green and I am free to go. I dream of making a grand gesture, of emptying out my pockets on an impulse or going round the city distributing blankets but of course I do nothing. And I don’t think I am alone in this. While a large part of our attitude towards the economically underprivileged is made up of indifference, there is a small but significant part that is unable to take the step from concern to giving. What explains this inability, this paralysis that stymies good intentions?

And I am not talking about the rational arguments against giving charity to people who beg on the streets. There are those argue that begging is a nuisance and giving only encourages dependence. You frequently hear accounts of how when meaningful work was offered to the people who were begging, it was almost always turned down. Without getting into the argument for or against encouraging begging, let us focus instead on those situations when we have no conceptual problems with giving something but find ourselves unable to bring ourselves to do so. 

Perhaps, what prevents us from giving is that it appears to be a cheap way to buy absolution. It seems too easy, to rid oneself of guilt by offloading some money into an outstretched hand. Are we merely purchasing a cheap ticket to heaven, finding a way to postpone facing up to some deep sense of guilt at our relative good fortune? 

The other possible reason is that the problem seems too vast for one small gesture to make any real difference. The sense of “so what will it really change’’ might stop us from taking that small step. 

The enormity of the problem mocks at the futility of our gesture and makes it appear to be an act of indulgence aimed at making us, rather than the person begging, feel better. The feeling that there is no symbolic way of shouldering responsibility, that once we cross the threshold and take any action then we somehow become responsible for the problem in its entirety. And if we are not ready for that, then it is perhaps better to do nothing at all. 

In some deep-rooted way, we are afraid of playing God with other people’s destinies. The act of giving seems laden with arrogance; we attribute superiority to ourselves based on material comfort and somehow this feels wrong. It feels wrong that one should be in a position to make such a difference to someone else’s life.

The transaction is too naked, the difference too palpable for comfort. Also, there is this other problem with playing God—we need to be completely fair and impartial. 

Who is to say who needs our charity the most—is it the shrivelled old woman or the urchin without a leg? Do we give on the basis of an internal pathos-meter that measures the relative direness of the need? Do we then end up summing up human beings by the size of their afflictions? 

And hence the irony of doing nothing for those in need not out of callousness, but out of some form of respect for them as people. 

Perhaps this too is only a way to rationalise indifference. Perhaps this whole debate is too self-indulgent in the first place. And it certainly changes nothing. 

The next time an old lady raps on my car window, I will still be a deer in her headlights, trapped between my fear of arrogance and a need to do something.

Read more from him here. (Search for ‘Santosh Desai’ or ‘City City Bang Bang’ on this link.)

There’s a fat blanket of smog hanging over rapidly industrializing India, absorbing sunlight that would otherwise filter on to the subcontinent. This is according to a study recently published in the New Scientist and it’s not surprising. 

“It turns out that smog produced by US and Europe until about 1980 had resulted in similar dimming across the world. But when the West cleaned up its act in the 1980s and 1990s - just as India and China were starting to spew - clearer skies returned across much of the world.“

Clearly, it’s important for India to learn from the cycles that more developed parts of the world have gone through already.

But think of the blind acceptance of Western consumerism that we are seeing in India today. An ad for Zeiss opticals - now available in India - shows a girl in an office expressing condescension towards a coworker for wearing glasses with no brand name. The tagline is “Brand nahi to style/naam nahi” or something like it. Basically, it signals that without brands to show off with, a person can make no impact. How tasteless and how untrue!

India, beware. The unthinking brand of capitalism the West embraces just isn’t cutting it anymore and the sociopolitical state of America is good evidence. We don’t have to go stir crazy on brands in India to realize that rampant consumerism - just like the grey smog that now envelops us - is damaging. Indians need to be wary of the retail therapy trap.

(Of course brands - and the businesses they represent - need to start being more responsible with their messaging too but that’s a story from another day.)

A recent article by Francois Gautier captures well some of my sentiment. I’m not sure that spirituality is the answer to India’s problems. But sitting up and taking a look at the West more objectively is certainly in order.

“Today, there is a sense of deep satisfaction, of gloating even, in India. The economy is booming, there are more and more cars on the roads, shares are soaring, a plane is taking off every six seconds, hotels are full, shops do roaring business… But if one looks closer at what is happening here… India is veering blindly, without restraint, towards total globalisation and Westernisation… Yes, there are great values in the Western world: Freedom, democracy, equality (not always though), respect for the environment, less corruption. And India must, and has already borrowed from these qualities. But… it seems the Indian political and intellectual mind is pushing these qualities to an illogical extreme, as if it wants to prove to the West that ‘we are as democratic, as liberal, as free as you are’… India must achieve its liberalisation and industrialisation, by taking the best of the West, but preserving what is good, pure, wise in her own culture.”

Apologies to cricket-watchers for this rather tardy post on Yuvraj’s six sixes from the first 20-20 games in September. I’ve sorely missed cricket in my time away. But over the years, I’d begun to forget exactly why. Well, here’s why! Think of 50 runs in 12 balls. 6 of them devilish 6s - all in one over, bowled sorrily by poor Flintoff of the English team. 

Which brings me to the fact that I am (thankfully!) no flagwaver or closet patriot. I see that countries are just countries: people of one land divided and antagonized by artificial lines drawn by the power surges of history. Totally see it. But when watching a cricket match, there’s no doubting which team - and rather viscerally at that - I want to win.

Ah well, at least I know I’ll never be this dude. Right? Right!

Derren Brown is devoutly skeptical of the paranormal. Like him, most ‘psychics’ seem to use a combination of observation, suggestion, psychology, misdirection, and showmanship in order to ’see’ things. But unlike most who have his skills, he is an entertainer. Here is a video on how he uses subtle cues to generate powerful suggestion - to the point that it’s almost persuasion. Amazing!

Yet, this fall, America’s #1 psychic will be crowned on reality TV. 16 ’seers’ will compete in several rounds of competition on a Lifetime show called ‘America’s Psychic Challenge’. In one challenge, psychics match pet-owners to their pooches. In another, the psychics recreate a scene of a violent crime years later. So on. Previews feature all the blurry sepia shots and eerie music one might expect, and it is being advertised on all major networks.

I can’t help but wonder how progressive or responsible of the media it is to give ‘psychics’ any legitimacy whatsoever. Did someone mention a “bottom line”? Of course.