During the Super Bowl, Anthropic ran a dystopian AI ad about dystopian AI ads featuring an AI android physical trainer hawking insoles to a user who only asked for an ab workout. Not to be outdone, Amazon ran a commercial for its AI assistant Alexa+ in which Chris Hemsworth fretted over all the different ways AI might kill him, including severing his head and drowning him in his pool. Equally bleak, the telehealth company Hims & Hers ran an ad titled “RICH PEOPLE LIVE LONGER” in which oligarchs access such healthcare luxuries as facelifts, bespoke IVs, and “preventative care” to live longer than the rest of us. It was an anti-billionaire ad by a multibillion-dollar healthcare company.
Turn on the TV today, and you will drown in a sea of ads in which capitalists denounce capitalism. Think of the PNC Bank ads where parents sell their children’s naming rights a la sports stadiums for the money to raise them or the Robinhood ads where a white-haired older man, perhaps meant to evoke Bernie Sanders or Jeremy Corbyn, curses the “men of means with their silver spoons eating up the financial favors of the one percent” from the deck of a yacht.
After years of ingesting the mainstream discourse around surveillance capitalism, Occupy Wall Street, and democratic socialism, corporations are regurgitating and even surpassing the rhetoric of the modern left. Naturally, it’s all a winking sleight of hand meant to corral us back into engaging with the same capitalism they portray as a hellscape — but with new and improved privatized solutions. In another widely reviled Super Bowl ad, the video doorbell company Ring tells us that every year, 10 million family pets go missing, and by opting into a web of mass surveillance, the company has reunited “more than a dog a day” with their families.
Modern advertisers descend from those ad men of the 1960s who first perfected the art of channeling our angst with society writ large into buying more junk. As historian Thomas Frank wrote in his book “The Conquest of Cool,” midcentury advertisers constructed “a cultural perpetual motion machine in which disgust with the … everyday oppressions of consumer society could be enlisted to drive the ever-accelerating wheels of consumption.”
The machine has hummed on ever since, retrofitting capitalism’s reprimands into its rationales. It churns out commercials reframing the precariat’s pain not as the product of plutocracy but as the product of buying the wrong products. Advertisements pitch that the good life is to be secured by procuring high quality goods, by curating the right combination of AI assistants, locally crafted beer, paraben-free dryer sheets, Jimmy Dean breakfast biscuits, Capital One Venture X points, BetMGM spreads, Coinbase crypto wallets, on and on.
It’s lunacy. Buying Levi’s won’t give you deep pockets. Brand promises, like all promises, are made to be broken. As AI anxiety fueled fears of mass layoffs, Coca-Cola soothed American workers’ worries about “AI coming for everything” with a glossy 2025 Super Bowl ad, featuring Lauren London, where the gleaming actress flexed her dimples and told us everything would be all right. Ten months later, Coke automated its advertising with generative videos, replacing the actors they’d paid to soothe our worries about being replaced by AI with AI itself.
I hope you’re feeling better! I’m also a slow-fire for these sorts of topics. I appreciate the effort in your reply, especially with health issues on top - my carefulness was partly due to illness, as is the delay in this one. Bodies surely are fun.
To clarify, I certainly don’t condemn you for choosing substack, there are few avenues to choose for long-form writing not backed by significant capital. It’s an issue that echoes part of the problem of trust allocation, which I’ve been considering the last few days. As you point out, it’s not exactly as satisfying as actual transformation, which is part of what troubles me. It does make sense though, and if I understand correctly, the steps Tim Berners Lee is taking with the Solid project, or is at least trying to, hold a similar perspective.
From my perspective, we can only have the illusion of trust when the systems are deliberately designed to obscure their mechanisms. And the systems are certainly designed to be black boxes, looking through the Epstein Files financial data is confirmation enough of that. But then again, this has always been true, even if the form has changed over the centuries.
The last few years I’ve been watching from within how these systems work in the hopes of understanding how real change can occur, and experimenting with pushing change to see where the limits kick in, and how I can help transformation happen more effectively. Part of me hoped to discover something that made it all make sense, but very few of the lessons I’ve learnt are what I would describe as inspiring or hugely actionable without substantial dependencies. The least cynical summary of what I’ve learnt is something that is a very obvious proposition on the surface: Changing the results requires changing the goals.
But it doesn’t take a whole lot of digging to discover that’s just another can of worms.
I also appreciate your explanation of optimism, I had worried that perhaps I had missed some brightly shining silver lining to all of this in my tendency towards abject cynicism. Oriented certainly feels more apt, and possibly even achievable for me, depending on the day.
Thanks again for the considered reply and giving me more to mull over. I think it’s time I reassessed my goals.