It’s hard for me to admit this, but I once wrote political commercials. Don’t judge me. It was while I was working at a small-town radio station and I only wrote ads for local …
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It’s hard for me to admit this, but I once wrote political commercials. Don’t judge me. It was while I was working at a small-town radio station and I only wrote ads for local politicians.
They preferred to focus on their own positives rather than the negatives of their opposition. That was lucky for me because I don’t like to say mean things about other people—unless I’m sure they won’t hear me. That probably defeats the purpose of advertising.
I could never make it in the nasty world of national political copywriting. Those copywriters are not the sort of people you want to get on the wrong side of. They can somehow track down the most unflattering photos and videos ever taken of their opposition and use them in commercials for the whole country to see.
Maybe the candidate sneezed or yawned as the photo was taken. Or they tripped stepping off a curb and someone caught it on video. Back in my copywriting days, I would never have felt comfortable showing someone at their worst like that. I’m just too nice. Plus I was working in radio.
The creators of negative TV ads also scour the internet for the dumbest things the opposition has said and done since fifth grade. I couldn’t do that either. I’ve done one or two dumb things myself and I was as empathetic back in my copywriting days as I am now. Also the internet hadn’t been invented yet.
I admit that I have been known to indulge in name calling, something political copywriters excel at. Unlike them though, I only do it when I’m sure my target can’t hear me.
Occasionally I may call someone something that can’t be printed in this newspaper, but only when I’m reading the news. Or listening to it. Or driving.
Political copywriters are willing to do their name calling publicly and they have at their command a far more sophisticated and lengthier list of names than I have: extremist, radical, barbarian, Neanderthal and so on. Actually I haven’t heard anyone called a Neanderthal in a political commercial — yet. But there’s still time before the election.
And here’s another thing that would be hard for me about writing political ads for TV: lying. Not only is it legal to lie in political advertising, it seems to be encouraged, at least by the people paying for the advertising. And I cannot tell a lie. Okay, I can. But I try not to very often because I don’t feel good about it after I do it.
The courts have upheld the First Amendment right of candidates to say pretty much whatever they want on federally regulated broadcast channels. That means TV commercials may be every bit as fictionalized as the TV programming they interrupt, but not nearly as entertaining.
Of course, there are positive political ads too. I could write those. They show candidates all spiffed up and smiling after a good night’s sleep. The ad’s creator sprinkles all sorts of pretty words in the ad, like freedom, liberty and leadership.
Then they add some sweet photos or video, maybe of the politician with a small child or a puppy. This is meant to show their candidate’s human side. As a former copywriter, I think this is a smart strategy since all the negative ads we’ve seen from their side might have left us wondering if they have one.
Dorothy Rosby is an author and humor columnist whose work appears regularly in publications in the West and Midwest. You can subscribe to her blog at www.dorothyrosby.com or contact at www.dorothyrosby.com/contact.