Popeye the Sailor first awakened me to the power of advertising. I wanted that spinach.
I quickly became convinced, however, that my mother was buying the wrong kind of spinach. Not only did it fail to give instant super-strength, it tasted awful.
This made me cast a more cynical eye over advertising claims. It wasn’t, in my opinion, amazing what raisins could do. Powdered mashed potato clearly wasn’t as good as real mash, no matter what those laughing aliens said. And if my father had put a tiger in his tank then it smelled rather strange.
Advertising slogans are often superb examples of English usage. They distil an explanation of a product, and a persuasive argument, into a few memorable words. They implant desire.
And that often persuades people to part with their cash, which isn’t easy. But if it is grrrrreat, does exactly what it says on the tin, is the real thing, and the best a man can get, then we’re often convinced that every little helps.
Other people could take a lesson from what is good, and what isn’t, about advertising slogans.
The Prime Minister has taken to using slogan-like speech, saying the same word three times, when explaining policy. Presumably he thinks this repetition ensures we’ve got the message. “Build, build, build”, or “jobs, jobs, jobs”. And, to be balanced, he isn’t the first politician to attempt this.
But the public are not idiots. This blunt approach to bludgeoning a concept into our minds makes us feel that we’re being talked down to.
If he used slightly cleverer advertising-like phrases and said something like: “Brick by brick we’ll build Britain a brighter future”. Or “Our hard work will create jobs for hard workers,” I’d be more reassured that his plans have been intelligently crafted, properly costed out, and more likely to come to fruition. (My efforts, I concede, are a bit cheesy but then I’m not a professional slogan writer.)
An “any word, any word, any word” approach won’t convince us of the merit of an argument. It isn’t good use of language. It isn’t even an argument.
What you say (especially what politicians say) really matters. And how it is said matters just as much.
If a politician hasn’t worked hard enough to come up with an elegant, memorable and convincing turn of phrase, will they work hard enough to deliver their promises?
Word of the week
Jejune (adjective)
Naïve, simplistic. EG: “Boris, don’t take me for a jejune, spinach-eating fool. I won’t be convinced by mere repetition”.
Read the latest Oh my word! every Saturday in The Courier. Contact me at sfinan@dctmedia.co.uk
