“Subliminal advertising has been outlawed. There was quite a to-do at the time.”
“Oh, yes,” Salsbury said, relieved. “There were hundreds of newspaper and magazine editorials. Newsday called it the most alarming invention since the atomic bomb. The Saturday Review said that the subconscious mind was the most delicate apparatus in the universe and that it must never be sullied or twisted to boost the sales of popcorn or anything else.
“In the late 1950s, when the experiments with the tachistoscope were publicized, nearly everyone agreed that subliminal advertising was an invasion of privacy. Congressman James Wright of Texas sponsored a bill to outlaw any device, film, photograph, or recording ‘designed to advertise a product or indoctrinate the public by means of making an impression on the subconscious mind.’ Other congressmen and senators drafted legislation to deal with the menace, but none of the bills got out of committee. No law was passed restricting or forbidding subliminal advertising.”
Dawson raised his eyebrows. “Do politicians use it?”
“Most of them don’t understand the potential. And the advertising agencies would just as soon keep them ignorant. Every major agency in the U.S. has a staff of media and behavioral scientists to develop subliminals for magazine and television ads. Virtually every consumer item produced by Futurex and its subsidiaries is sold with subliminal advertising.”
“I don’t believe it,” Dawson said. “I would know about it. ”
“Not unless you wanted to know and made an effort to learn. Thirty years ago, when you were starting out, this sort of thing didn’t exist. By the time it came into use, you were no longer closely tied to the sales end of your business. You were more concerned with stock issues, mergers — wheeling and dealing. In a conglomerate of this size, the president can’t possibly pass approval on every ad for every product of every subsidiary.”
Leaning forward in his chair, a look of distaste on his handsome face, Dawson said, “But I find it rather — repulsive.”
“If you accept the fact that a man’s mind can be programmed without his knowledge, you’re rejecting the notion that every man is at all times captain of his fate. It scares hell out of people.
“For two decades Americans have refused to face the unpleasant truth about subliminal advertising. Opinion polls indicate that, of those who have heard of subliminal advertising, ninety percent are certain it has been outlawed. They have no facts to support this opinion, but they don’t want to believe anything else. Furthermore, between fifty and seventy percent of those polled say they don’t believe subliminals work. They are so revolted by the thought of being controlled and manipulated that they reject the possibility out of hand. Rather than educate themselves about the actuality of subliminal advertising, rather than rise up and rage against it, they dismiss it as a fantasy, as science fiction. ”
Dawson shifted uneasily in his chair. Finally, he got up, went to the huge windows and stared out at Manhattan.
Snow had begun to fall. There was very little light in the sky. Wind, like the voice of the city, moaned on the far side of the glass.
Turning back to Salsbury, Dawson said, “One of our subsidiaries is an ad agency. Woolring and Messner. You mean every time they make a television commercial, they build into it a series of subliminally flashed messages with a tachistoscope?”
“The advertiser has to request subliminals,” Salsbury said. “The service costs extra. But to answer your question — no, the tachistoscope is out of date.
“The science of subliminal behavior modification developed so rapidly that the tachistoscope was obsolete soon after it was patented. By the mid-1960s, most subliminals in television commercials were implanted with rheostatic photography. Everyone has seen a rheostatic control for a lamp or overhead light: by turning it, one can make the light dimmer or brighter. The same principle can be used in motion picture photography. First, the commercial is shot and edited to sixty seconds in the conventional manner. This is the half of the advertisement that registers with the conscious mind. Another minute of film, containing the subliminal message, is shot with minimal light intensity, with the rheostat turned all the way down. The resultant image is too dim to register with the conscious mind. When it is projected on a screen, the screen appears to be blank. However, the subconscious sees and absorbs it. These two films are projected simultaneously and printed on a third length of film. It is this composite version that is used on television. While the audience watches the commercial, the subconscious mind watches — and obeys, to one degree or another — the subliminal directive.
“And that’s only the basic technique,” Salsbury said. “The refinements are even more clever.”
Dawson paced. He wasn’t nervous. He was just — excited.
He’s beginning to see the value, Salsbury thought happily.
“I see how subliminals could be hidden in a piece of film that’s full of motion, light and shadow,” Dawson said. “But magazine ads? That’s a static medium. One image, no movement. How could a subliminal be concealed on one page?”
Pointing to the photographs he had given Dawson earlier, Salsbury said, “For that picture I kept my face expressionless. Two copies were made from the same negative. Copy A was printed over a vague image of the word ‘anger.’ And B was printed over the word ‘joy. ’”
Comparing the photos, Dawson said, “I don’t see either word.”
“I’d be displeased if you did. They aren’t meant to be seen.”
“What was the purpose?”
“One hundred students at Columbia were given photo A and asked to identify the emotion expressed by the face. Ten students had no opinion. Eight said ‘displeasure’ and eighty-two said ‘anger.’ A different group studied photo B. Eight expressed no opinion. Twenty-one said ‘happiness’ and seventy-one said ‘joy.”’
“I see,” Dawson said thoughtfully.
Salsbury said, “But that’s as crude as the tachistoscope. Let me show you some sophisticated subliminal ads.” He plucked a sheet of paper from his briefcase. It was a page from Time magazine. He put the page on Dawson’s blotter.
“It’s an ad for Gilbey’s Gin,” Dawson said.
At a glance it was a simple liquor advertisement. A five-word headline stood at the top of the page: BREAK OUT THE FROSTY BOTTLE. The only other copy was toward the lower right-hand comer: AND KEEP YOUR TONICS DRY! The accompanying illustration held three items. The most prominent of these was a bottle of gin which glistened with water droplets and frost. The cap of the bottle lay at the bottom of the page. Beside the bottle was a tall glass filled with ice cubes, a lime slice, a swizzle stick and, presumably, gin. The background was green, cool, pleasant.
The message intended for the conscious mind was clear: This gin is refreshing and offers an escape from everyday cares.
What the page had to say to the subconscious mind was far more interesting. Salsbury explained that most of the subliminal content was buried beneath the threshold of conscious recognition, but that some of it could be seen and analyzed, although only with an open mind and perseverance. The subliminal that the conscious could most easily comprehend was hidden in the ice cubes. There were four ice cubes stacked one atop the other. The second cube from the top and the lime slice formed a vague letter S which the conscious mind could see when prompted. The third cube held a very evident letter E in the area of light and shadow that comprised the cube itself. The fourth chunk of ice contained the subtle but unmistakable outline of the letter X: S-E-X.
Salsbury had come around behind Dawson’s desk and had carefully traced these three letters with his forefinger. “Do you see it?”