Can We Talk?

Today's news brings the story of a major decision made by Ofcom, independent regulator and competition authority for the UK communications industries. They have decided to enforce a total ban on advetising for junk food in and around all programmes of appeal to those under the age of 16.
An original proposal had suggested the regulation might target only the under-9-years group. With the greater age range, the ban will now include youth-oriented and adult programmes deemed likely to appeal to children, as well as the obvious children's channels. The content of such ads will also be regulated to ban the use of celebrities and cartoon characters.
Of course, there has been a great hue and cry raised in response. It's easy enough to imagine the protests being spluttered about by the ISBA, the representative body of marketing communicators in the UK. They proclaim their mission to be to "defend advertisers' freedom to advertise". Their homepage declares that membership with them is open to all through an annual subscription "based on a small proportion of their advertising spend". Since current estimates place the impact on total broadcast revenues at £39m per year, it's not too much of a challenge to put all that together and see why they have come out in opposition to the ban, denouncing it as being "influenced by political opinion." The impact on their membership fees is, of course, the last thing on their noble, collective mind.
At the other end of things is the National Heart Foundation. Paul Lincoln, chief executive of the NHF says that, "The UK currently has the highest rates of child obesity in Europe." Present trends in England would see half of all children being obese by the yeay 2020. One in ten six-year-olds are already classed as obese. These facts make it easy to understand why the NHF and many other health organizations wanted the ban to cover all programming until nine o'clock in the evening.
It would seem to me that this is yet another issue of whether or not groups can see past the short-term gain. The junk-food industry sees their profits lying on the line. They don't seem to see any of the longer-term issues. Those children they're pushing their garbage at right now will grow up to be adults someday, and quite possibly adults with a whole range of health problems stemming from their obese childhood. Do these advertising types give any thought to the strain on health-care systems a whole age cohort of sickly adults could impose? The money to fund the system will have to come from "somewhere", and one of those somewheres will be their pockets. At least, they had better hope it will. If it doesn't, because the strain has proven to be too much and public health care has collapsed, they would be fools to think they could keep the wolves from their doors. Sooner or later, a society that can not provide for its own, will turn on its own.
I suppose you have to consider the possibility that junk food manufacturers are like some drug dealers. They may sell the stuff, but they eschew any and all use of it themselves. Do you suppose that the junk providers keep themselves and their children strictly away from all indulgence in their own products? Wouldn't that be quite the juicy news tidbit to publicize?
At the same time as all this brouhaha is swirling about across the pond, comes word of another excess in indulgence to do the junk food pundits proud. Apparently one Abel Gonzales, a computer analyst from Dallas, has come up with a new artery-murdering delicacy - fried coke. No, no, don't clean your glasses or rub your eyes, you read it right. Being the dedicated type he is, Mr. Gonzales made about 15 false starts before he finally hit on just the 'right' recipe. His batter mix is made with Coca-Cola syrup, strawberry syrup (the real thing, Mr. Gonzales, or a happy little chemical mixture that bears as much resemblance to strawberries as 10W40 does?) and some strawberries.
Ping-pong ball-sized glops of this concoction are deep-fried and dumped in a cup to be served with a topping of Coca-Cola syrup, whipped cream, cinnamon sugar and a cherry. Humanitarian Abel (next year he plans a version made with diet coke) debuted his deep-fried delight at the Texas State Fair this fall. It was a "huge" success, according to Sue Gooding, a Fair spokeswoman. I just wonder if her use of the word huge refers to the product sales or the size of the Texans waddling away with a cup of this waistline-widening offal.
Having read both of these stories this morning, I'm wondering if we couldn't get all of these good folks together somehow. As a firm believer in compromise, I have a suggestion to make that might clear up the whole UK advertising problem, (and by extension, that of every other country that boasts junk food media ads aimed at kids.) Sitting down together to share a little refreshment and a little talk can fix a lot of problems, so I think representatives from both sides of the conflict should come to a meeting held on neutral ground, like say the Texas Fair grounds. Abel could bring some of his fried coke to serve to the junk food people and the health concern types could bring along some tread mills. While the advertisers munch their snacks of health-busting balls, they could take up position on the tread mills. The machines should be started off at a speed that would necessitate an easy jog from the users. Every additional ball they ingest would meandoublingg the speed setting. As they begin to lose their footing and get fired backward off the machines, the health-concern reps could scrape them off the back wall and gently return them to the table.
The next simple step would be to explain to them the new research conducted at Indiana University that suggests immediate exercise can counter the effects of overindulgence, and suggest to them a whole new set of ads based on that research. The new promos would show obese juvenile indulgers in their junk products bouncing and jouncing their way around the circuit of machines at a gym. Close-ups of florid jowls wobbling back and forth should be complimented by a soundtrack of the corpulent kiddies wheezing for breath. Ads like that would not have to be restricted in any way. The ban could be lifted, making the ISBA members deliriously happy, and the shots of happy faces shining out at the viewers from the insides of the gym would mollify the health-conscious.
Hey presto! Smiles all around.