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At What Price?

The missing ads meant lives were crumbling. How could we enjoy that?

 

A few months ago, deep in the coronavirus shutdown, a reader sent in a comment: “I’m enjoying the new Mishpacha, thanks to the True Editor — Hashem sent us COVID and wiped out all those terrible luxury advertisements.”

A few weeks later, I received an email from a former teacher: “I have at times (actually often) been critical of the advertisements in frum publications. It seems to me that often advertising‘ creates needs.’ It is my impression that of late Mishpacha has taken a step back. Is that because of COVID or purposefully?”

The unfortunate answer to her question is that our ads decreased for several weeks because of COVID. But unlike the first commenter, we who work at the magazine did not find any joy in the downturn.

Ads are the primary “fuel” providing us with the resources to keep upping our game and give our readers more and better content. More ad pages mean more content pages for you to enjoy. But that wasn’t the primary reason for our distress when so many ads went missing. The real reason was the human subtext: The missing ads meant that fellow Jews who work hard every month to support their families honorably were now struggling. Some had put their businesses on hold. Many feared their businesses would never reopen.

The missing ads meant that lives were crumbling. How could we enjoy that? How could anyone?

Everyone knows the witty quote: “Advertising is the art of convincing people to spend money they don’t have on something they don’t need.” There’s a lot of truth to it; a good advertising campaign (and the frum advertising agencies have been getting ever savvier) will leave readers feeling that they want or need an item or service.

It’s also true that many of the businesses advertising in our pages cater to a luxury standard — be it in clothing, food, vacations, or simchah spending. The constant exposure to their products or services can subliminally encourage a high standard for everyone.

I think this trend is exacerbated in our particular market because unlike many niche magazines, what unites our readership is values rather than socioeconomic level. A magazine like Better Homes & Gardens or Bon Appetit or American Motorcyclist draws a very particular readership. Correspondingly, it also draws a certain type of advertiser. So the odds are good that the buying power of the reader is well matched to the price points of the items advertised inside.

That principle doesn’t hold true for our magazine. If you buy Mishpacha, you likely have a certain value system, you likely revere certain leaders, you likely ascribe to certain hashkafos — but the jury is out when it comes to your income level. So advertisements for high-end products won’t get the same casual reception that they might get in Better Homes & Gardens; for many of our readers they will hit a decidedly wrong note.

Can advertisers be more sensitive? Can they do a better job of making a refined pitch that isn’t grossly materialistic? Can they avoid messages like “this is a must have” or “if you don’t get this you’re so last year”? I would say the answer is “yes, but.”

When necessary, we will turn down ads entirely because they feel egregiously out of place for our readership. More often, we work with our advertisers and will ask them to tone down language, switch photos, or reconsider a message. But we also have to respect what advertising is and isn’t. At heart, an advertisement is not just about informing readers that a store exists; it’s about getting them to want to step inside.

During the COVID-19 lockdown, a cousin marveled at how low her expenditures had dropped. “The kids weren’t with their friends anymore, so suddenly they just didn’t need all that stuff. I feel like Hashem took away our usual focus on buy-buy-buy, and it was so liberating. I just wonder, once the opportunity comes back — will we jump right back in?”

A friend from the office said something similar: “With all the stores closed, it wasn’t an option to buy the kids summer Shabbos shoes before Pesach. Then Pesach was over and I wondered, do I really need them at all?”

The cousin doesn’t have much money to spare, the friend can definitely afford the shoes. Regardless of budget, many parents found it a relief and a treat not to have to purchase full spring ensembles for every child before Pesach. But if you passed those empty stores on bedikas chometz evening and realized how many ambitious, hardworking parents were losing the businesses they’d built with sweat, faith, and tears, how many families were relying on government handouts or tzedakah instead of gladly working until midnight during a frantically busy season so they could set a Yom Tov table with pride — then your relief was surely tinged with pain.

We all need to find our backbones and figure out how to process and react to ads that promote items inappropriate for our values or budgets. We need to be confident in our personal ground rules and develop a firm understanding of what we need, what we want, when to splurge, and when to hold back. We need that mental and hashkafic clarity for ourselves, and we need it in order to relay the right messages to our children.

And when an ad hits a wrong note, we’re perfectly entitled to write in to the publication to complain. We can and should hold frum advertisers to different standards, because their markets are different and their ads should reflect that.

But to herald those missing ads as an improvement, knowing that they mean so many businesses are crumbling and families struggling — is that what you really want?

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 823)

 

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Comments (10)


  1. Avatar
    0

    I strongly disagree with this past week’s Screenshot, which was critical of those who were happy to see the ads for unnecessary, extravagant luxuries absent from Mishpacha during the early months of COVID-19. Instead, the editor maintains, we should be feeling bad for those who lost parnassah.
    She is correct; we should be nosei b’ol and feel bad any time a fellow Jew lacks what he needs. At the same time, the pandemic should be cause for all of us to ponder what Hashem is trying to tell us.
    Distinguished rabbanim have joined together, calling for people of means to sign that from now on, their weddings will be significantly smaller and simpler than in the past. According to the editor’s thinking, this is wrong; think of the caterer, the florist, and the musicians who will be losing parnassah. How can we do this to them? The answer is, if it is the right thing to do then we have to do it. As far as those who are losing parnassah, let us daven that they find other ways to make ends meet.
    Does anyone really think that now, when so many have lost parnassah, when the world, our country, and our neighborhoods are in such a volatile state, is the time to be purchasing $5,000 watches?
    Hashem is talking to all of us, not only those who live in a higher tax bracket. But to say that loss of income is a reason to maintain the status quo is woefully wrong.


    1. Avatar
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      ZC and Dena

      We have been following the conversation regarding Shoshana Friedman’s Screenshot about the missing ads. We were horrified by someone’s comment “As far as those who are losing parnassah, let us daven that they find other ways to make ends meet.” That read like a modern-day “let them eat cake.” The cavalier attitude regarding someone else’s parnassah is astounding.

      Furthermore, we would like to remind your readers about not judging other people’s spending and purchases. An adam gadol once said that we all have two eyes: one to see what we do wrong and the other to see what everyone else does right. Let’s all strive for that ideal and be zocheh to celebrate simchahs in Klal Yisrael.


  2. Avatar
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    E.J.

    It was refreshing to see the candid acknowledgement of the inherent conflict between a magazine whose goal is to convey Torah true values, and the luxury advertising that pays the bills, and provides the resources to enable the magazine to publish the content.
    There was one jarring note in the article. In closing, the article chided the readership to “find our backbones and figure out how to process and react to ads that promote items inappropriate for our values or budgets.” The concept of recognizing and repelling a negative influence certainly has merit. But putting the onus on the readership sounds vaguely akin to what one often hears from bewildered non-Jews regarding the laws of modesty: “Why is the onus on the women to dress modestly? Why can’t the men just not look; if they happen to see something inappropriate, they should simply not let it affect them?”
    Of course, as frum Jews we know the answer. A person is influenced by his environment. What he sees, even unwittingly, has an impact, and shapes his mind and his thoughts.
    Rav Shlomo Freifeld ztz”l used to often point out the pervasive influence that advertisers have on our lives. He would talk about how advertisers spend millions of dollars and hire teams of psychologists to figure out how to shape people’s minds and attitudes, and how a frum Jew has to resist this influence with all his might if he is to succeed in life.
    Unfortunately, the relentless influence of marketing and advertising has made deep inroads even into the frum community. We are told what to wear, what to eat, how to furnish out homes, and are even conditioned by sensational videos and campaigns as to what should motivate us to open our wallets for tzedakah causes. The luxury market is simply the most lucrative piece of the pie, and that is why such large proportion of the advertising market is directed at that segment.
    While there is never joy in seeing another Jew lose parnassah, it is appropriate to acknowledge that much of the uber luxury market is at best a distraction, and is likely detrimental to the frum community as a whole, in its goal of raising the next generation of ovdei Hashem. If that market segment would contract, especially with regard to the multitude of frum Jews who, ill able to afford it, are pressured to go into debt by the flood of advertising and resulting peer pressure, that is a good thing for Klal Yisrael as a whole. It will save so many in our community from ruinous debt, allow people to meet their tuition obligations, and diminish the distractions that get in the way of the focus on our true goals in life. The relatively few Jews who will have diminished parnassah will im yirtzeh Hashem have siyata d’Shmaya to find their parnassah in areas that are beneficial, and not detrimental to the klal.
    Is there an answer to the problem facing Jewish publications such as Mishpacha? I am not naïve enough to suggest that Mishpacha curtail its advertising. That is not realistic, and will lead to advertisers seeking other venues to target their audience. I would suggest that Mishapacha consider running a series of articles exploring the fascinating world of the psychology of advertising and how one can recognize and resist its influence. Presenting some insight and Torah hashkafah from our gedolim in this area would be very helpful as well.
    Most of all, it is important to acknowledge that the problem lays primarily with those intentionally promoting luxury standards to a broad audience, and that educating the readership is a bedieved response to an issue for which there is no simple solution.


    1. Avatar
      0

      I would like to respond to E.J.’s letter about Shoshana Friedman’s frank and thought-provoking Screenshot.
      First, E.J. makes an analogy between Mrs. Friedman “putting the onus on the readership” to “recogniz[e] and [repel] a negative influence” and telling men to “just not look” at immodestly dressed women. I take issue with that. We women are told that the halachos of tzniyus are not only for the sake of men, but they exist in order to instill a particular sense of depth and self-worth in ourselves. Each person must take responsibility for his or her own spiritual well-being.
      That said, let’s talk about luxury. Rich people are allowed to have nice things. This is demonstrated by descriptions of the possessions of any number of righteous figures in Tanach, Talmud, and other historical records. The problem is when people of more modest means think they must furnish their homes and clothe themselves and their children at that same level. There is no reason for it. There are many respectable options for furniture and clothing that cost less. Peer pressure has its uses, primarily as the means to encourage greater spiritual development, but the material realm should have no place for it.
      Imagine a world in which no school child would be teased for not having the “right” expensive brand of shoes. Imagine not feeling a need to “update” a perfectly functional kitchen/dining room/living room before hosting a social event. Imagine being able to live according to our means without feeling inferior.
      This is where chinuch in the home comes in. If parents of modest means (I count myself in that group) show thrift and self-control when choosing what items to purchase, the children will get the message. We must educate ourselves and our children to evaluate our needs and our ability to fill them objectively, not by looking at “standards” set by the wealthiest among us. If I truly believe that Hashem runs the world and that He gives each person, each family, what they need when they need it, it ought to be very easy to look at an advertisement that urges me to buy “a mindset” instead of just a piece of furniture and tell myself firmly that it isn’t speaking to me.
      Finally, I applaud E.J.’s suggestion that Mishpacha publish a series of articles about the psychology of advertising, and insights from Torah leaders about resisting its lure. I eagerly await further discussion of this important topic.


    2. Avatar
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      Ben-Adam

      Once upon a time there was a town in which the people discovered they were becoming overweight and obese. It was getting worse. People were developing health issues. Finally, doctors were brought to explain the long-term dangers. The community heard about various medical issues, big and small. They took the message to heart and decided that they had to try to do something to promote dieting and lower their communal weight.
      They held a big meeting. Ideas were tossed around. At the end it was decided that as a first step, everyone in the town would make a commitment to eat less pizza. Everyone congratulated themselves on a wonderful idea. Something was finally going to be done about the town weight problem.
      Suddenly, a voice was heard from the back of the room. “Wait! You can’t do that! What about the livelihood of the pizza store owner? Why don’t you think of him?” Silence. Another voice. “You’re right. Forget the whole thing.” A disappointed sigh could be heard. More voices. “What about the communal good? We need this diet!” Pandemonium broke out. “Yes diet!” “No diet!”
      Then a voice from the back from none other than the owner of the pizza shop himself. “I would like to thank those who are concerned for my livelihood. But the truth is that I too need to lose weight. I am willing to join the communal diet and help in its success. First of all, I will take down the signs outside my store promoting my juicy pizza and I will replace them with signs promoting my healthier menus. I will begin to offer more healthier dishes to add to be added to the regular menu. And let me add that I am not really afraid of losing my livelihood, as people will buy my fish and salads and I am quite sure there will always be some people buying regular pizza. Maybe less pizza, but the business will go on. I am committed to my community.” Loud cheers. The day was saved.
      I am sure we all realize that our community needs a diet from our extravagant, materialistic consumption habits and that what we are doing is quite spiritually unhealthy. Our kehillah at large is ready to go on the diet. We need everyone to be on board. The consumers and — yes —the proprietors and advertisers too.


      1. Avatar
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        Moshe Licht

        It was troubling to read a letter from Bernie Sanders in last week’s Mishpacha Inbox. I didn’t realize you were in the habit of running Communist manifestos in your magazine.

        I’m referring, of course, to the letter with the whimsical albeit misguided mashal urging everyone to shut down the “pizza stores” because “everyone was gaining weight.”

        Parables are always limited in their ability to capture reality but this one was really ridiculous. Does every single person in our community have a spending problem? Does every single person make weddings they can’t afford? (Does every single person gain weight from pizza and does every single person have an inability to stop at one or two slices?)

        There are plenty of people with limited incomes who are more than happy to use the takanah halls for their simchahs. There are plenty of people who are honest about what they can and can’t spend, and live their lives accordingly. There are also plenty of people with deep pockets who can make luxurious simchahs without being irresponsible.

        Then, of course, there are some people who wish they had more money, or wish to give off the impression they have more money. These people have a problem. They need an education in responsible spending. They don’t need to “shut down every pizza store” and institute a single standard for all.

        The Torah has a concept of a “korban oleh v’yoreid.” This is a korban whose value fluctuates according to the means of the person bringing it. We’re not all meant to live at the same standard or make the same types of simchahs.

        Tell Bernie Sanders to stay out of Mishpacha, and let’s hope those socialist ideals stay out of our community’s consciousness as well.


        1. Avatar
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          M.K.

          I was very disturbed by the recent letter accusing us of allowing communist ideals to seep into our community.
          Putting aside completely the specific argument over whether or not our ads are out of control, Judaism certainly incorporates socialist values into its system. Or perhaps, we must express it the other way around: the socialist system has elements that mirror Jewish values — and there is nothing wrong with that.
          Just because socialists would espouse the idea of business owners taking responsibility for the choices of the consumers doesn’t make it an inherently non-Jewish concept, no more than it is inherently non-Jewish to do chesed just because Christianity believes in doing acts of kindness.
          The example of “Korban Oleh V’yored” is one area where we show approval of a financial hierarchy, something that has no place in a socialist system. But in how many other areas of halachah do we show that we take responsibility for one another? Hilchos lashon harah, lifnei iver, and the concept of kol Yisrael areivim zeh lazeh. It is potentially assur for one to sell an item which will cause another to sin (such as a piece of avodah zarah, or an article of clothing which cannot possibly be worn in a tzanuah way).
          The nesiim were praised when they did not try to one-up each other with their contributions to the chanukas habayis. And the mitzvah of v’ahavta l’reiacha is not something you’ll find in a democratic constitution, but in Judaism it encompasses an entire body of law.
          The communist/socialist system does not work for the simple reason that it is not based in Torah and it is led by people of poor middos. Judaism is not entirely socialist, nor is it entirely democratic or entirely monarchical. But the idea of collective responsibility — that we are part of a family who try our best to make decisions that affect each other positively, that we work together and share — will always have its place in our lives as Jews.
          To be clear, I am not saying that the advertisements in question are assur, nor that it is an advertiser’s responsibility to be concerned for anything beyond the halachah when it comes to what he puts on the page. That is a different conversation altogether. I do, however, think that each one of us can take a step back to see how what we do personally, both as advertisers, consumers, neighbors and friends, affects the greater community, even if socialists do it too.


    3. Avatar
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      Peretz Mann

      The judgmental reaction in last week’s Inbox to the reduction of advertising, and the wiping out of the kosher hotel business — in fact anything connected with simchahs — is astounding. The food is kosher. The activities are kosher. There is no suggestion of anything being against halachah. Nobody is being forced to attend.
      For people to anonymously and blithely wave off the parnassah of fellow Yidden and just say “I’ll daven for your success” is not the frumkeit I know.
      This is the time of year when we ask the Ribbono shel Olam for mercy. We should be asking the same for others.


    4. Avatar
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      Dov Grossberg

      I found the Screenshot weighing the different angles of the post-corona advertising situation (or lack thereof) nuanced and thought-provoking, and was disappointed to see how many readers used it to jump right back on to the age-old arguments about Mishpacha’s role in “promoting materialism.”
      In my opinion, they totally missed the point. Are the pages of Mishpacha the only place you encounter this dichotomy and the challenges it presents? I doubt it. This is a reality playing out in most communities, families and social settings, and isn’t limited to frum Jews. Maybe the scale, or the details, vary from place to place, but the common denominator is that every individual has to learn to live in a society where some people can afford more, and others less, and figure out their approach to this ongoing conundrum. For some, this might mean to forego what they can afford so as not to “take out others’ eyes,” and for others, this might mean to learn to be satisfied without luxuries.
      I don’t understand how anyone can expect Mishpacha to exist in a vacuum outside this reality. To the contrary, perhaps Mishpacha simply reflects these complex paradoxes, and underscores the importance of developing the moral backbone to be comfortable with our socio-economic standing and acknowledge that it does not have to be the only aspect that defines you, or gives the potential to lead a meaningful life.
      When I read Mrs. Friedman’s editorial, I was not left thinking about the people who consume the luxuries; the ones I could not get out of my mind were those business owners and their families. Most of our community’s providers of high-end goods and services are not in the upper-class income bracket; they are people who try to earn an honest living, and there’s no crime in catering to a clientele that has money to spend. As one relative, the owner of a clothing store, said to me (pre-corona), “I can never afford to go to a Pesach program, and don’t even want to. But it’s good they exist, because people who go there need to shop at my store first.”
      And let’s not kid ourselves: the “spenders” will spend regardless; at least their money can go to support another frum family. I don’t begrudge the “spenders” their ability; the ones that I know personally spend far more annually on tzedakah causes than on luxury items. You might disagree with their personal choices, but who’s to judge?
      This doesn’t mean I’m a fan of the sometimes outrageous messaging employed in the advertising; it irks me just like the next person. Maybe some advertisers can reconsider their messages and tone it down a bit. But the ones that really cross the lines are the (perhaps vocal/visual) minority, and I think we can view those really tasteless ads in proportion and acknowledge that this something we have to live with if we want our steady supply of weekly reading material.


  3. Avatar
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    Toby Brecher

    I always enjoy Shoshana Friedman’s “Screenshot” where she shares an intimate view of behind the scenes at Mishpacha. It gives us readers the feeling we are part of the family.
    I am puzzled and taken aback by the question with which she ended her last article. Surely she knows the answer to her very offensive question! We all want parnassah tovah for all of Klal Yisrael. What does that have to do with finding all the luxury advertisements over the top?
    I am also among those who find many ads a bit much. My pet peeve is the expression “taking it to the next level” — which can be found when discussing food, table settings, clothing, vacations, and more. I often wonder: If you were to use that expression when discussing ruchniyus, how well would it go down?
    Neither one of the email correspondents wish ill upon the people who have raised the gashmiyus level in our lives. They merely are pointing out that if as a result of this pandemic, the level will be lowered, it may be one of the benefits derived from the tragedy.
    Wishing all much hatzlachah, especially with their parnassah.