Excerpt from Common Culture: Reading and Writing About American Popular
Culture. Ed. Michael Petracca, Madeleine Sorapure. Upper Saddle River:
Prentice Hall, 1998.

Advertising's Fifteen Basic Appeals

Jib Fowles

In the following essay, Jib Fowles looks at how advertisements work by
examining the emotional, subrational appeals that they employ. We are
confronted daily by hundreds of fads, only a few of which actually attract
our attention. These few do so, according to Fowles, through "something
primary and prim itive, an emotional appeal, that in effect is the thin edge
of the wedge, trying to find its way into a mind." Drawing on research done
by the psychologist Henry A. Murray, Fowles describes fifteen emotional
appeals or wedges that advertisements exploit.

Underlying Fowles's psychological analysis of advertising is the assumption
that advertisers try to circumvent the logical, cautious, skeptical powers
we develop as consumers, to reach, instead, the "unfulfilled urges and
motives swirling in the bottom half of [our] minds." In Fowles's view,
consumers are well advised to pay attention to these underlying appeals in
order to avoid responding unthinkingly.

Emotional Appeals

The nature of effective advertisements was recognized full well by
the late media Philosopher Marshall McLuhan. In his Understanding
Media, the first Sentence of the section on advertising reads, "The con-
tinuous pressure is to create ads more and more in the image of audience
motives and desires."

By giving form to people's deep-lying desires and picturing states of being
that individuals privately yearns for, advertisers have the best chance of
arresting attention and affecting communication. And that is the immediate
goal of advertising: to tug at our psychological shirts sleeves amd slow us
down long enough for a word or two about whatever is being sold. We glance
at a picture of a solitary rancher at work, and "Marlboro" slips into our
minds. Advertisers (I'm using the term as shorthand for both the product's
manufacturers, who bring the ambition and money to the process, and the
advertising agencies, who supply the know-how) are ever more compelled to
invoke consumers' drives and longings; this is the "continuous pressure" McLuhan refers to.

Over the past century, the American marketplace has grown increasingly congested as more and more products have entered into the frenzied competition after the public's dollars. The economies of other nations are quieter than ours since the volume of goods being hawked does not so greatly exceed demand. In some economies, consumer wares are scarce enough that no advertising at all is necessary. But in the United States we go to the extreme. In order to stay in business, an advertiser must strive to cut through the considerable commercial by any means available--including the emotional appeals that some observers have held to be abhorrent and underhanded.

Fowles I Advertising's Fifteen Basic Appeals

The use of subconscious appeals is a comment not only on conditions among
sellers. As time has gone by, buyers have become stoutly resistant to
advertisements. We live in a blizzard of these messages and have learned to
turn up our collars and ward off most of them. A study done a few years ago
at Harvard University's Graduate School of Business Administration ventured
that the average American is exposed to some 500 ads daily from television,
newspapers, magazines, radio, billboards, direct mail, and so on. If for no
other reason than to preserve one's sanity, a filter must be developed in
every mind to lower the number of ads a person is actually aware of-a number
this particular study estimate at about seventy-five ads per day. (Of these,
only twelve typically produced a reaction-nine positive and three negative,
on the average.) To be among the few messages that do manage to gain access
to minds, advertisers must be strategic, perhaps even a little underhanded
at times.

There are assumptions about personality underlying advertisers' efforts to
communicate via emotional appeals, and while these assumptions have stood
the test of time, they still deserve to be aired. Human beings, it is
presumed, walk around with a variety of unfulfilled urges and motives
swirling in the bottom half of their minds. Lusts, ambitions, tendernesses,
vulnerabilities-they are constantly bubbling up, seeking resolution. These
mental forces energize people, but they are too crude and irregular to be
given excessive play in the real world. They must be capped with the
competent, sensible behavior that permits individuals to get along well in
society. However, this upper layer of mental activity, shot through with
caution and rationality, is not receptive to advertising's pitches.

Advertisers want to circumvent this shell of consciousness if they can, and
latch on to one of the lurching, subconscious drives.In effect, advertisers
over the years have blindly felt their way around the underside of the
American psyche, and by trial and error have discovered the softest points
of entree, the places where their messages have the greatest likelihood of
getting by consumers' defenses. As McLuhan says elsewhere, "Gouging away at
the surface of public sales resistance, the ad men are constantly breaking through into the Alice in Wonderland territory behind the looking glass, which is the world of sub-rational impulses and appefltes."

An advertisement communicates by making use of a specially selected image
(of a Supine female, say, or a curly-haired child, or a celebrity) which is
designed to stimulate "subrational impulses and desires" even when they are
at ebb, even if they are unacknowledged by their possessor. Some few ads
have their emotional appeal in the text but for the greater number by far
the appeal is contained in the artwork. This makes sense, since visual
communication better suits more primal levels of the brain. If the viewer of
an advertisement actually has the importuned motive, and if the appeal is
sufficiently well-fashioned to call it up, then the person can be hooked.
The product in the ad may then appeal to take on the semblance of
gratification for the summoned motive. Many ads seem to be Saying, "If you
have this need, then this product will help satisfy it." It is a primitive
equation, but not an ineffective one for selling.

Thus, most advertisements appearing in national media can be understood as
having two orders of content. The first is the appeal to deep-running drives
in the minds of consumers. The second is information regarding the goods
or service being sold: its name, its manufacturer its picture, its
packaging, its objecfive attributes, its functions. For example, the reader
of a brassiere advertisement sees a partially undraped but blandly
unperturbed woman standing in an otherwise commonplace public setting, and
may experience certain Sensations; the reader also sees the name
"Maidenform," a particular brassiere style, and, in tiny print words about
the material, colors, price. Or, the viewer of a television commercial sees
a demonstration with four small boxes labelled 650, 650, 650, and 800;
something in the viewer's mind catchers hold of this, as trivial as
thoughtful consideration might reveal it to be. The viewer is also exposed
to the name "Anacin," its bottle, and its purpose.

Sometimes there is an apparently logical llnk between an ad's emotional
appeal and its product information. It does not violate common sense that
Cadillac automobiles be photographed at country clubs, or that Japan Air
Lines be associated with Orientalia. But there is no real need for the
linkage to have a bit of reason behind it. Is there anything inherent to the
connection between Salem cigarettes and mountains, Coke and a smile, Miller
Beer and comradeship? The link being forged in minds between product and
appeal is a pre-logical one.

People involved in the advertising industry do not necessarily talk in the
terms being used here. They are stationed at the sending end of this
communications channel, and may think they are up to any number of
things-Unique Selling Propositions, explosive copywriting, the optimal use
of demographics or psychographics, ideal media buys, high recall ratings, or whatever But when attention shifts to the receiving end of the channel, and focuses on the instant of reception, then commentary becomes much more elemental: an advertising message contains something primary and primitive, an emotional appeal, that in effect is the thin end of the wedge, trying to find its way into a mind. Should this occur, the product information comes along behind.

When enough advertisements are examined in this light, it becomes clear that
the emotional appeals fall into several distinguishable categories, and that
every ad is a variation on one of a limited number of basic appeals. While
there may be several ways of classifying these appeals, one particular list
of fifteen has proven to be especially valuable.

Advertisements can appeal to:

1 The need for sex

2. The need for affiliation

3~ The need to nurture

4. The need for guidance

5. The need to aggress

6. The need to achieve

7. The need to dominate

8. The need for prominence

9. The need for attention

10. The need for autonomy

11. The need to escape

12. The need to feel safe

13. The need for aesthetic sensations

14. The need to satisfy curiosity

15. Physiological needs: food, drink, sleep, etc.

Fifteen Appeals

1. Need for sex. Let's start with Sex, because this is the appeal which
seems to pop up first whenever the topic of advertising is raised. Whole
books have been written about this one alone, to find a large audience of
mildly titillated readers. Lately, due to campaigns to sell blue jeans,
concern with sex in ads has redoubled.

The fascinating thing is not how much sex there is in advertising, but
how little. Contrary to impressions, unambiguous sex is rare in these
messages. Some of this surprising observation may be a matter of definition:
the Jordache ads with the lithe, blouse-less female astride a similarly clad
male is clearly an appeal to the audience's sexual drives, but the same
cannot be said about Brooke Shields in the Calvin Klein commercials.
Directed at young women and their credit-card carrying mothers, the image of
Miss Shields instead invokes the need to be looked at. Buy Calvins and
you'll be the center of much attention, just as Brooke is, the ads imply;
they do not primarily inveigle their target audience's need for sexual
intercourse.

In the content analysis reported in Mass Advertising as Social Forecast,
only two percent of ads were found to pander to this motive. Even Playboy
ads shy away from sexual appeals: a recent issue contained eighty-three
full-page ads, and just four of them (or less than five percent) could be
said to have sex on their minds.

The reason this appeal is so little used is that it is too blaring and
tends to obliterate the product information. Nudity in advertising has the
effect of reducing brand recall. The people who do remember the product may
do so because they have been made indignant by the ad; this is not the
response most advertisers seek.

To the extent that sexual imagery is used, it conventionally works better
on men than women; typically a female figure is offered up to the male
reader. A Black Velvet liquor advertisement displays an attractive woman
wearing a tight black outfit, recumbent under the legend, "Feel the Velvet."
The figure does not have to be horizontal, however, for the appeal to be
present, as National Airlines revealed in its "Fly me" campaign. Indeed,
there does not even have to be a female in the ad; "Flick my Bic" was
sufficient to convey the idea to many.

As a rule, though, advertisers have found sex to be a tricky appeal, to
be used sparingly. Less controversial and equally fetching are the appeals to
our need for affectionate human contact.

2. Need for affiliation. American mythology upholds autonomous individuals, and social statistics suggest that people are ever more going it alone in their lives, yet the high frequency of affiliative appeals in ads belies this. Or maybe it does not: maybe all the images of companionship are compensation for what Americans privately lack. In any case, the need to associate with others is widely invoked in advertising and is probably the most prevalent appeal. All sorts of goods and services are sold by linking them to our unfulfilled desires to be in good company.

According to Henry Murray, the need for affiliation consists of 24 desires "to draw near and enjoyably cooperate or reciprocate with another; to please and win affection of another; to adhere and remain loyal to a friend." The manifestations of this motive can be segmented into several different types of affiliation, beginning with romance.

Courtship may be swifter nowadays, but the desire for pair-bonding is far
from satiated. Ads reaching for this need commonly depict a youngish male
and female engrossed in each other The head of the male is usually higher
than the female's, even at this late date; she may be sitting or leaning
while he is standing. They are not touching in the Smirnoff vodka ads, but
obviously there is an intimacy, sometimes frolicsome, between them. The
couple does touch for Cognac when "The moment was Martell." For Wind Song
perfume they have touched, and "Your Wind Song stays on his mind."

Depending on the audience, the pair does not absolutely have to be young-just together. He gives her a DeBeers diamond, and there is a tear in her laugh lines. She takes Geritol and preserves herself for him. And numbers of consumers, wanting affection too, follow suit.

Warm family feelings are fanned in ads when another generation is added
to the pair. Hallmark Cards brings grandparents into the picture, and Johnson
and Johnson Baby Powder has Dad, Mom, and baby, all fresh from the bath,
encircled in arms and emblazoned with "Share the Feeling." A talc has been
fused to familial love.

Friendship is yet another form of affiliation pursued by advertisers. Two
women confide and drink Maxwell House coffee together; two men walk through
the woods smoking Salem cigarettes. Miller Beer promises that afternoon
"Miller Time" will be staffed with three or four good buddies. Drink Dr
Pepper, as Mickey Rooney is coaxed to do, and join in with all the other
Peppers. Coca-Cola does not even need to portray the friendliness; it has
reduced this appeal to "a Coke and a smile."

The warmth can be toned down and disguised, but it is the same affiliative
need that is being fished for. The blonde has a direct gaze and her friends
are firm businessmen in appearance, but with a glass of Old Bushmill you can
sit down and fit right in. Or, for something more upbeat, sing along with
the Pontiac choirboys.

As well as presenting positive images, advertisers can play to the need
for affiliation in negative ways, by invoking the fear of rejection. If we
don't use Scope, we'll have the "Ugh! Morning Breath" that causes the male
and female models to avert their faces. Unless we apply Ultra Brite or
Close-Up to our teeth, it's good-bye romance. Our family will be cursed with
"House-a-tosis" if we don't take care. Without Dr. Scholl's antiperspirant
foot spray, the bowling team will keel over. There go all the guests when the
supply of Dorito's nacho cheese chips is exhausted. Still more rejection if our shirts have ring-around-the-collar, if our car needs to be Midasized. But make a few purchases, and we are back in the bosom of human contact.

As self-directed as Americans pretend to be, in the last analysis we
remain social animals, hungering for the positive, endorsing feelings that
only those around us can supply. Advertisers respond, urging us to "Reach out
and touch someone," in the hopes our monthly bills will rise.

3. Need to nurture. Akin to affiliative needs is the need to take care of
small, defenseless creatures, children and pets, largely. Reciprocity is of
less consequence here, though; it is the giving that counts. Murray uses
synonyms like "to feed, help, support, console, protect, comfort, nurse,
heal." A strong need it is, woven deep into our genetic fabric, for if it
did not exist we could not successfully raise up our replacements. When
advertisers put forth the image of something diminutive and furry, something
that elicits the word "cute" or precious," then they, are trying to trigger
this motive. We listen to the childish voice singing the Oscar Mayer weiner
song, and our next hot-dog purchase is prescribed. Aren't those darling
kittens something, and how did this Meow Mix get into our shopping cart?
This pitch is often directed at women, as Mother Nature's chief nurturers. "Make me some Kraft macaroni and cheese, please," says the elfin preschooler just in from the snowstorm, and mothers' hearts go out, and Kraft's sales go up. "We're cold, wet, and hungry," whine the husband and kids, and the little woman gets the Manwiches ready.

A facsimile of this need can be hit without children or pets: the husband is ill and sleepless in the television commercial, and the wife grudgingly fetches the NyQuil. But it is not women alone who can be touched by this appeal. The father nurses his son Eddie through adolescence while the John Deere lawn tractor survives the years. Another father counts pennies with his young son as the subject of New York Life Insurance comes up. And all over America are businessmen who don't know why they dial Qantas Airlines when they have to take a trans-Pacific trip; the koala bear knows.

4. Need for guidance. The opposite of the need to nurture is the need to be
nurtured: to be protected, shielded, guided. We may be loath to admit it,
but the child lingers on inside every adult-and a good thing it does, or we
would not be instructable in our advancing years. Who wants a nation of
nothing but flinty personalities?

Parentlike figures can successfully call up this need. Robert Young recommends Sanka coffee, and since we have experienced him for twenty-five years as television father and doctor, we take his word for it. Florence
Henderson as the expert mom knows a lot about the advantages of Wesson oil.

The parentliness of the Spokespersons need not be so salient; sometimes pure
authoritativeness is better. When Orson Welles scowls and intones, "Paul
Masson will sell no wine before its time," we may not know exactly what he
means, but we still take direction from him. There is little maternal about
Brenda Vaccaro when she speaks up for Tampax, but there is a certainty to
her that many accept.

A celebrity is not a necessity in making a pitch to the need for guidance,
since a fantasy figure can serve just as well. People accede to the Green
Giant, or Betty Crocker, or Mr Goodwrench. Some advertisers can get by with
no figure at all: "When E.F Hutton talks, people listen."

Often it is tradition or custom that advertisers point to and consumers take
guidance from. Bits and pieces of American history are used to sell whiskeys
like Old Crow, Southern Comfort, Jack Daniel's. We conform to traditional
male/female roles and age-old social norms when we purchase Barclay
cigarettes, which informs us "The pleasure is back." The product itself, if it has been around for a long time, can constitute a tradition. All those old labels in the ad for Morton salt convince us that we should continue to buy it. KooI-Aid says "You loved it as a kid. You trust it as a mother" hoping to get yet more consumers to go along.

Even when the product has no history at all, our need to conform to tradition
and to be guided are strong enough that they can be invoked through bogus
nostalgia and older actors. Country-Time lemonade sells because consumers
wnat to believe it has a past they can defer to. So far the needs and the ways they can be invoked which have been looked at are largely warm and affiliative; they stand in contrast to the next set of needs, which are much more egoistic and assertive.

5. Need to aggress. The pressures of the real world create strong
retaliatory feelings in every functioning human being. Since these impulses
can come forth as bursts of anger and violence, their display is normally
tabooed. Existing as harbored energy, aggressive drives present a large,
tempting target for advertisers. It is not a target to be aimed at
thoughtlessly, though, for few manufacturers want their products associated
with destructive motives. There is always the danger that as in the case of
sex, if the appeal is too blatant public opinion will turn against what is
being sold.

Jack-in-the-Box sought to abruptly alter its marketing by going after
older customers and forgetting the younger ones. Their television
commercials had a seventyish lady command, "Waste him," and the Jack-
In-the-Box clown exploded before our eyes. So did public reaction until the
commercials were toned down. Print ads for Club cocktails carried the faces
of Octogenarians under the headline, "Hit me with a Club'; response was
contrary enough to bring the campaign to a stop.

Better disguised aggressive appeals are less likely to backfire: Tnumph
cigarette has models making a lewd gesture with their uplifted cigarettes, but the individuals are often laughing and usually in close company of others. When Exxon said, "There's a Tiger in your tank," the implausibility of it concealed the invocation of aggressive feelings.

Depicted arguments are a common way for advertisers to tap the audience's
needs to aggress. Don Rickles and Lynda Carter trade gibes, and consumers
take sides as the name of Seven-Up is stitched on minds. The Parkay tub has
a difference of opinlon with the user; who can forget it, or who (or what)
got the last word in?

6. Need to achieve. This is the drive that energizes people, causing them to
strive in their lives and careers. According to Murray, the need for
achievement is signalled by the desires "to accomplish something difficult.
To overcome obstacles and attain a high standard. To excel one's self. To
rival and surpass others." A prominent American trait, it is one that
advertisers like to hook on to because it identifies their product with
winning and success.

The Cutty Sark ad does not disclose that Ted Turner failed at his latest
attempt at yachting's America Cup; here he is represented as a champion on
the water as well as off in his television enterprises.If we drink this whiskey, we will be victorious alongside Turner. We can also succeed with O.J. Simpson by renting Hertz cars, or with Reggie Jackson by bringing home some Panasonic equipment. Cathy Rigby and Stayfree Maxipads will put people out front.

Sports heroes are the most convenient means to snare consumers' needs to
achieve, but they are not the only one. Role models can be established, ones
which invite emulation, as with the profiles put forth by Dewar scotch.
Successful, tweedy individuals relate they have "graduated to the flavor of
Myer's rum." Or the advertiser can establish a prize: two neighbors play
one-on-one basketball for a Michelob beer in a television commercial, while
in a print ad a bottle of Johnie Walker Black Label has been gilded like
a trophy.

Any product that advertises itself in superlatives-the best the first the
finest-is trying to make contact with our needs to succeed. For many
consumers, sales and bargains belong in this category of appeals, too; the
person who manages to buy something at fifty percent off is seizing an
opportunity and coming out ahead of others.

7. Need to dominate. This fundamental need is the craving to be
powerful-perhaps omnipotent, as in the Xerox ad where Brother Dominic
exhibits heavenly powers and creates miraculous copies. Most of us will
settle for being just a regular potentate, though. We drink Budweiser
because it is the King of Beers, and here comes the powerful Clydesdales to
prove it. A taste of Wolfschmidt vodka and "The spirit of the Czar lives
on."

The need to dominate and control one's environment is often thought of as
being masculine, but as close students of human nature advertisers know, it is not so circumscribed. Women's aspirations for control are suggested in the campaign theme, "I like my men in English Leather or nothing all." The females in the Chanel No.19 ads are"outspoken" and wrestle their men around.

Male and female, what we long for is clout; what we get in its place is a
Mastercard.

8. Need for prominence. Here comes the need to be admired and respected, to
enjoy prestige and high social status. These times, it appears, are not so
egalitarian after all. Many ads picture the trappings of high position; the
Oldsmobile stands before a manorial doorway, the Volvo is parked beside a
steeplechase. A book-lined study is the setting for Dewar's 12, and Lenox
China is displayed in a dinlng room chock full of antiques.

Beefeater gin represents itself as "The Crown Jewel of England" and uses
no illustrations of jewels or things British, for the words are sufficient
indicators of distinction. Buy that gin and you will rise up the prestige
hierarchy or achieve the same effect on yourself with Seagram's 7 Crown,
which ambiguously describes itself as "classy." Being respected does not have to entail the usual accoutrements of wealth: "Do you know who I am?" the commercials ask, and we learn that the prominent person is not so prominent without his American Express card.

9. Need for attention. The previous need involved being looked up to, while
this is the need to be looked at. The desire to exhibit ourselves in such a
way as to make others look at us is a primitive, insuppressible instinct.
The clothing and cosmetic industries exist just to serve this need, and this
is the way they pitch their wares. Some of this effort is aimed at males, as
the ads for Hathaway shirts and Jockey underclothes. But the greater bulk of
such appeals is targeted singlemindedly at women.

To come back to Brooke Shields: this is where she fits into American
marketing. If I buy Calvin Klein jeans, consumers infer, I'll be the object
of fascination. The desire for exhibition has been most strikingly played to
in a print campaign of many years' duration, that of Maidenform lingerie.
The woman exposes herself, and sales surge. "Gentlemen prefer Hanes" the ads
dissemble, and women who want eyes upon them know what they should do. Peggy
Fleming flutters her legs for Leggs, encouraging females who want to be the
star in their own lives to purchase this product.

The same appeal works for cosmetics and lotions. For years, the little girl
with the exposed backside sold gobs of Coppertone but now the company has
picked up the pace a little: as a female, you are supposed to "Flash 'em a Coppertone tan." Food can be sold the same way espe cially to the diet-conscious; Angie Dickinson poses for California avo cados and
says, "Would this body lie to you?" Our eyes are too fixed on her for us to think to ask if she got that way by eating mounds of
guacomole.

1O. Need for autonomy. There are several ways to sell credit card services,
as has been noted: Mastercard appeals to the need to dominate, and American
Express to the need for prominence. When Visa claims, "You can have it the
way you want it," yet another primary motive is being beckoned forward-the
need to endorse the self. The focus here is upon the independence and
integrity of the individual; this need is the antithesis of the need for
guidance and is unlike any of the social needs. "If running with the herd
isn't your style, try ours," says Rotan-Mosle, and many Americans feel they
have finally found the right brokerage firm.

The photo is of a red-coated Mountie on his horse, posed on a snow- covered
ledge; the copy reads, "Windsor-One Canadian stands alone." This epitome of
the solitary and proud individual may work best with male customers, as may
Winston's man in the red cap. But one-figure advertisements also strike the
strong need for autonomy among American women. As Shelly Hack strides for
Charlie perfume, females respond to her obvious pride and flair; she is her
own person. The Virginia Slims tale is of people who have come a long way
from subservience to independence. Cachet perfume feels it does not need a
solo figure to work this appeal, and uses three different faces in its ads;
it insists, though, "It's different on every woman who wears it."
Like many psychological needs, this one can also be appealed to in a
negative fashion, by invoking the loss of independence or self-regard. Guilt
and regrets can be stimulated: "Gee, I could have had a V-8." Next time, get
one and be good to yourself.

11. Need to escape. An appeal to the need for autonomy often co-occurs with
one for the need to escape, since the desire to duck out of our social
obligations, to seek rest or adventure, frequently takes the form of
one-person flight. The dashing image of a pilot, in fact, is a standard way
of quickening this need to get away from it all. Freedom is the pitch here, the freedom that every individual yearns for whenever life becomes too oppressive. Many advertisers like appealing to the need for escape because the sensation of pleasure often accompanies escape, and what nicer emotional nimbus could there be for a product? "You deserve a break today," says McDonald's, and Stouffer's frozen foods chime in, "Set yourself free."

For decades men have imaginatively bonded themselves to the Marlboro cowboy
who dwells untarnished and unencumbered in Marlboro Country some distance
from modern life; ads, part of the same campaign, contain two strolling
figures. In smokers' aching needs for autonomy and escape are personified by
that cowpoke. Many women can identify with the lady ambling through the
woods behind the words, "Benson and Hedges and mornings and me."

But escape does not have to be solitary. Other Benson and Hedges
Salem cigarette advertisements, it can be several people who escape together into the mountaintops. A commercial for Levi's pictured a cloudbank above
a city through which ran a whole chain of young people. There are varieties of escape, some wistful like the Boeing "Someday" campaign of dream vacations, some kinetic like the play and parties in soft drink ads. But in every instance, the consumer exposed to the advertisement is invited to momentarily depart his everyday life for a more carefree experience, preferably with the product in hand.

12. Need to feel safe. Nobody in their right mind wants to be intim-
idated, menaced, battered, poisoned. We naturally want to do whatever
it takes to stave off threats to our well-being, and to our families'. It is
the instinct of self-preservation that makes us responsive to the ad of the St. Bernard with the keg of Chivas Regal. We pay attention to the stern talk
of Karl MaIden and the plight of the vacationing couples who have lost
all their funds in the American Express travelers cheques commercials.
We want the omnipresent stag from Hartford Insurance to watch over us
too.

In the interest of keeping failure and calamity from our lives, we like
to see the durability of products demonstrated. Can we ever forget that
Timex takes a licking and keeps on ticking? When the American Touris
ter suitcase bounces all over the highway and the egg inside doesn't
break, the need to feel safe has been adroitly pluck. We take precautions to diminish future threats. We buy Volkswagen Rabbits for the extraordinary mileage, and MONY insurance policies to avoid the tragedies depicted in their black-and-white ads of widows and orphans.

We are careful about our health. We consume Mazola margarine
because it has "corn goodness" backed by the natural food traditions of
the American Indians. In the medicine cabinet is Alka-Seltzer, the "home remedy"; having it we are snug in our little cottage.
We want to be safe and secure; buy these products, advertisers are
saying, and you'll be safer than you are without them.

13. Needfor aesthetic sensations. There is an undeniable aesthetic
component to virtually every ad run in the national media: the photography
or filming or drawing is near-perfect, the type style is well chosen, layout
could scarcely be improved upon. Advertisers know there is little chance of good communication occurring if an ad is not visually pleasing. Consumers may not be aware of the extent of their own sensitivity to artwork, but it is undeniably large.

Sometimes the aesthetic element is expanded and made into an ad's primary
appeal. Charles Jordan shoes may or may not appear in the accompanying
avant-grade photographs; Kohler plumbing fixtures catch attention through the high style of their desert settings. Beneath the slightly out of focus photograph, languid and sensuous in tone, General Electric feels called upon to explain, "This is an ad for the hair dryer." This appeal is not limited to female consumers: J&B scotch says "It whispers" and shows a bucolic scene of lake and castle.

14. Need to satisfy curiosity. It may seem odd to list a need for
information among basic motives, but this need can be as primal and
compelling as any of the others. Human beings are curious by nature,
interested in the world around them, and intrigued by tidbits of knowledge
and new developments. Trivia, percentages, observations counter to
conventional wisdom-these items all help sell products. Any advertisement in
a question-and-answer format is strumming this need.

A dog groomer has a question about long distance rates, and Bell Telephone
has a chart with all the figures. An ad for Porsche is replete with
diagrams and schematics, numbers and arrows. Lo and behold, Anacin pills
have 150 more milligrams than its competitors; should we wonder if this is
better or worse for us?

15. Physiological needs. To the extent that sex is solely a biological need,
we are now coming around full circle, back toward the start of the list. In
this final category are clustered appeals to sleeping, eating, drinking. The
art of photographing food and drink is so advanced, sometimes these
temptations are wondrously caught in the camera's lens: the crab meat in the
Red Lobster restaurant ads can start us salivating, the Quarterpounder can
almost be smelled, the liquor in the glass glows invitingly imbibe, these
ads scream.

Styles

Some common ingredients of advertisements were not singled out for separate
mention in the list of fifteen because they are not appeals in and of
themselves. They are stylistic features, influencing the way a basic appeal
is presented. The use of humor is one, and the use of celebrities is another
A third is time imagery, past and future, which goes to several purposes.
For all of its employment in advertising, humor can be treacherous,
because it can get out of hand and smother the product information.
Supposedly, this is what Alka-Seltzer discovered with its comic commercials
of the late sixties; "I can't believe I ate the whole thing," the sad-faced
husband lamented, and the audience cackled so much it forgot the antacid.
Or, did not take it seriously.

But used carefully, humor can punctuate some of the softer appeals and
soften some of the harsher ones. When Emma says to the Fruit-of-the-Loom
fruits, "Hi, cuties. Whatcha doing in my laundry basket?" we smile as our curiosity is assuaged along with hers. Bill Cosby gets consumers tickled about the children in his Jell-O commercials, and strokes the need to nurture.
An insurance company wants to invoke the need to feel safe, but does not
want to leave readers with an unpleasant aftertaste; cartoonist Rowland
Wilson creates an avalanche about to crush a gentleman who is saying to
another, "My insurance company? New England Life, of course why?" The same
tactic of humor undercutting threat is used in the cartoon commercials for
Safeco when the Pink Panther wanders from one disaster to another Often
humor masks aggression: comedian Bob Hope in the outfit of a boxer promises
to knock out the knock-knocks with Texaco; Rodney Dangerfield, who "can't
get no respect," invites aggression as the comic relief in Miller Lite
commercials.

Roughly fifteen percent of all advertisements incorporate a celebrity,
almost always from the fields of entertainment or sports. The approach can
also prove troublesome for advertisers, for celebrities are human beings
too, and fully capable of the most remarkable behavior if anything
distasteful about them emerges, it is likely to reflect on the product. The
advertisers making use of Anita Bryant and Billy Jean suffered several
anxious moments. An untimely death can also react poorly on a product. But
advertisers are willing to take risks because celebrities can be such a good
link between producers and performing the social role of introducer.
There are several psychological needs these middlemen can play upon.

Let's take the product class of cameras and see how different celebrities can hit different needs. The need for guidance can be invoked by Michael Landon, who plays such a wonderful dad on "Little House on the Prairie"; when he says to buy Kodak equipment, many people listen. James Garner for Polaroid cameras
is put in a similar authoritative role, so defined by a mocking spouse. The
need to achieve is summoned up by Tracy Austin and other tennis stars for
Canon AE-l; the advertiser first makes sure we set these athletes playing to
win. When Cheryl Tiegs speaks up for Olympus cameras, it is the need for
attention that is being targeted.

The past and future, being outside our grasp, are exploited by advertisers
as locales for the projection of needs. History can offer up heroes (and
call up the need to achieve) or traditions (need for guidance) as well as
art objects (need for aesthetic sensations). Nostalgia is a kindly version
of personal history and is deployed by advertisers to rouse needs for
affiliation and for guidance; the need to escape can come in here, too. The
same need to escape is sometimes the point of futuristic appeals but
picturing the avant-garde can also be a way to get at the need to achieve.

Analyzing Advertisements

When analyzing ads yourself for their emotional appeals, it takes a bit of
practice to learn to ignore the product information (as well as one's own
experience and feelings about the product). But that skill comes soon
enough, as does the ability to quickly sort out from all the non-product
aspects of an ad the chief element which is the most striking, the most
likely to snag attention first and penetrate brains farthest. The key to the
appeal, this element usually presents itself centrally and forwardly to the
reader or viewer.

Another clue: the viewing angle which the audience has on the ad's subjects
is informative. If the subjects are photographed or filmed from below and
thus are looking down at you much as the Green Giant does, then the need to
be guided is a good candidate for the ad's emotional appeal If, on the other
hand, the subjects are shot from above and appear deferential, as is often
the case with children or female models, then other needs are being appealed
to.

To figure out an ad's emotional appeal, it is wise to know (or have a good
hunch about) who the targeted consumers are; this can often be inferred from
the magazine or television show it appears in. This piece of information is
a great help in determining the appeal and in deciding between two different
interpretations. For example, if an ad features a partially undressed
female, this would typically signal one appeal for readers of Penthouse
(need for sex) and another for readers of Cosmopolitan (need for attention).

It would be convenient if every ad made just one appeal, were aimed at just
one need. Unfortunately, things are often not that simple. A cigarette ad
with a couple at the edge of a polo field is trying to hit both the need for
affiliation and the need for prominence; depending on the attitude of the
male, dominance could also be an ingredient in this. An ad for Chimere
perfume incorporates two photos: in the top one the lady is being commanding
at a business luncheon (need to dominate), but in the lower one she is being
bussed (need for affiliation). Better ads, however, seem to avoid being too
diffused; in the study of post-World War II advertising described earlier,
appeals grew more focused as the decades passed. As a rule of thumb, about sixty percent have two conspicuous appeals; the last twenty percent have three or more. Rather than looking for the greatest number of appeals, decoding
ads is most productive when the loudest one or two appeals are discerned,
since those are the appeals with the best chance of grabbing people's
attention.

Do They or Don't They?

Do the emotional appeals made in advertisements add up to the sinister
manipulation of consumers? It is clear that these ads work. Attention is caught, communication occurs between producers and consumers, and sales result. It turns out to be difficult to detail the exact relationship between a specific ad and a specific purchase, or even between a campaign and subsequent sales figures, because advertising is only one of a host of influences upon consumption. Yet no one is fooled by this lack of perfect proof; everyone knows that advertising sells. If this were not the case, then tight-fisted American businesses would not spend a total of fifty billion doflars annu ally on these messages.

But before anyone despairs that advertisers have our number to the extent
that they can marshal us at will and march us like automatons to the
check-out counters, we should recall the resiliency and obduracy of the
American consumer. Advertisers may have uncovered the softest spots in
minds, but that does not mean they have found truly gaping apertures. There
is no evidence that advertising can get people to do things contrary to
their self-interests. Despite all the finesse of advertisements, and all the
subtle emotional tugs, the public resists the vast majority of the
petitions. According to the marketing division of the A.C. Nielsen Company,
a whopping seventy-five percent of all new products die within a year in the
marketplace, the victims of consumer disinterest which no amount of
advertising could overcome. The appeals in advertising may be the most
captivating there are to be had, but they are not enough to entrap the wiley
consumer.The key to understanding the discrepancy between, on the one hand,
the fact that advertising truly works, and, on the other, the fact that it
hardly works, is to take into account the enormous numbers of people exposed
to an ad. Modern-day communications permit an ad to be displayed to millions
upon millions of individuals; if the smallest fraction of that audience can
be moved to buy the product then the ad has been successful. When one
percent of the people exposed to a television advertising campaign reach for
their wallets, that could be one million sales, which may be enough to keep
the product in production and the advertisements coming.

It is good to keep in mind that many of the purchases which might be credited to these ads are experienced as genuinely gratifying to the consumer We sincerely like the goods or service we have bought and we may even like some of the emotional drapery that an ad suggests comes with it. It has sometimes been noted that the most avid students of advertisements are the people who have just bought the product; they want to steep themselves in the associated imagery This may be the reason that Americans, when polled, are not negative about advertising and do not disclose any sense of being mis-used. The volume of advertising may be an irritant, but the product information as well as the imaginative material in ads are partial compensation.

A productive understanding is that advertising messages involve costs and
benefits at both ends of the communications channel. For those few ads which
do make contact, the consumer surrenders a moment of time, has the lower
brain curried, and receives notice of a product; the advertiser has given up
money and has increased the chance of sales. In this sort of communications
activity, neither party can be said to be the loser.