In today's class, one of the subjects we discussed was the three reality filters that marketing managers as well as consumers use in the decision making process. For the purposes of a quick review, the three reality filters are: 1.) Literacy (What are the words saying?), 2.) Numeracy (What are the numbers telling us?), and 3.) Ecolacy (What are the consequences of these actions or decisions?). It became very clear, very quickly that we as a culture have vastly neglected the use of our Ecolate (Ecolacy) filter. We have become so driven by the cut-throat competition of our capitalist economy and so blinded by the pressures of cost cutting and constant innovation that we have largely failed to stop and ask ourselves, "What consequences could result from these decisions?"
In reference to the antibiotic example from class, literally and numerically (the first two filters), the use of antibiotics seems like a no-brainer. Bacteria can make us sick. Antibiotics kill bacteria. Period. However, as it was alluded to; there are consequences involved. Not only do antibiotics kill the bad bacteria in our bodies, but the good bacteria (probiotics) are also destroyed. This wouldn't be a deal breaker if probiotics were not vitally important to one's digestive health and overall ability to fight infection and prevent the spread of disease within the body - but they are, in fact, that important.
There are countless examples of how our culture has developed extremely profitable and efficient industries whilst largely neglecting its ecolate filter. The most startling example that comes to my mind is the industrial food and factory farm industries.
The Factory farm industry has had a profound effect not only on the United States, but on the world as a whole. Upon first glance, one may think that industrial farms are a positive force for feeding the hungry and assuring a positive future - a thought process that would likely pass through filters 1 and 2 with little resistance. Upon further review, it would be discovered that such a system actually does far more harm than good. In some developing nations, as industrialized agriculture becomes more widespread, the availability of food within those developing nations actually decreases. How can this be? Well, because industrial farmers produce commodity crops like corn, wheat, and soy to export year after year. These farmers often suffer from mounting debt because of the rising costs of fossil-fuel based inputs, fertilizers, and pesticides that are required to maintain these types of mono-cultures (land that is used season after season for the same type of crop - and thus depletes the natural resources of that land much more quickly). As the prices of such inputs rise, the price these farmers can demand for their commodity crops falls or stays the same, leaving industrial farmers poor, without food, and without nutrient-rich (and thus, valuable) land.
A similarly bleak story can be told for those in impoverished rural and urban areas within the United States – a country in which food is assumed to be in endless supply. The industrialized food industry, driven by profit and efficiency, forces grocery stores outside of low-income areas to maximize profit potential. Because of this, entire communities are left with inadequate sources of nutritious food. As the availability of land on which to grow one’s own food is occupied, residents are forced to settle for foods cheap enough to allow for survival – processed foods riddled with preservatives, additives, and man-made chemicals – a recipe for long-term health issues.
The factory farm industry negatively affects our world by contributing to climate change by way of the emissions from the consumption of non-renewable resources – specifically fossil fuels (not to mention the depletion of the natural nutrients in our soils). The industry as a whole has had a large impact on climate change and global warming, as well as our dependence on foreign oil. According to the Worldwatch Institute, American food travels an average of 1,500 to 2,000 miles from farm to the end-user’s plate. It boggles the mind to attempt to understand the quantities of fossil fuels consumed – not only from the diesel fuel used to power a series of trucks to transport your food across the country, but the resources used to produce the tires for those trucks, the oil for the engines, the energy required to produce the plastic wrap and Styrofoam cases and trays used to package the food, and the energy utilized to power the refrigerated/frozen compartment in each truck. The of energy consuming processes continues, but the point stands strong – although the consumer’s price paid for his or her T-bone steak was $6.99, the overall price paid (by others around the world) is incomprehensibly higher.
In addition to the environmental damage done by the factory farm industry, the negative effect upon public health is also grave. Predating the 1950s, Americans have been confused by exactly what they should and should not eat – and it has only gotten worse over the decades. Every day, American consumers are inundated with innumerable amounts of unhealthy foods and drinks – items produced by large companies that have done their best to minimize process inefficiencies, maximize profits, and to get as many consumers as possible to believe that their products are a perfectly healthful aspect of the American diet. Unfortunately, in the process of reducing the prices of inputs, maximizing shelf life, and designing salty, fatty, and sugary edible substances, the end-products have turned out extremely unhealthful, as a whole. Such products have turned out so unhealthful in fact, that the United States is now in a nationwide battle with both childhood and adult onset diabetes. It has been estimates that 33% of all children born in the year 2000 will develop diabetes at some point in his or her life.
Large corporations have earned their profits in large part, because of the relative ignorance of the American public, regarding precisely what is or is not a healthy choice. Since about six decades ago and the launch of the American Heart Association’s low-fat campaign, consumers have been somewhat manipulated into demonizing fat and opting, instead, for processed breads, pastas, and fat-free snack foods. Coincidentally (or not), Americans have on average gotten no healthier since the launch of this campaign. In fact, Michael Pollan (as well as a number of other sources) have stated the average American in today’s day and age is around 20 pounds heavier than the average American of the 1950s - prior to the fat-free campaign. Whether or not the low-fat campaign was founded upon any substantial scientific data, I do not know. I am fairly certain however, that the beneficiaries of such a campaign have been the producers of snack foods, cereals, breads, pastas, and sugary breakfast treats – all products that can be found in "fat-free form" but cannot claim to be innocent of contributing to the United States' current weight problems.
All companies which produce the foods that I have demonized as being unhealthful will (or have) claim(ed) that their products can be part of a healthy lifestyle, as long as diet and exercise are also accompanying components. While marketing departments make this claim to try and save themselves from being lumped together with the
Supersize Me - portrayed McDonalds' of the world, any decently intelligent consumer would see right through such claims. Almost anyone who sticks to a regular exercise plan and limits their daily caloric intake could still eat Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and maintain a decent figure. The point is that in our American culture, we make it incredibly difficult for consumers to even understand what a healthy portion is.
An example that comes to mind is the seemingly conniving serving size of a specific sports drink that I remember laughing at a year or two ago. The campaign was centered around a 5-calorie version of this company's sports drink - an expected response of the popular critique that traditional sports drinks are too caloric and too sugary. This particular product had the number 5 in its name, but when one would look to the nutrition facts, it became clear that if you had really intended to consume a mere 5 calories of sugary goodness, you would have to restain yourself from drinking over half of the bottle. That's right, if you were to drink the entire bottle (a task not viewed as difficult in the least), you would have consumed ten calories - not five. The thought that kept popping into my head was this: instead splitting hairs over a ten calorie drink versus a five calorie drink while risking coming off as dishonest or distrustful, why not just launch the product with the number 10 in the title, rather than 5? Or keep the name as it is, but water down the drink twice as much. It just seemed so funny to me - these companies think that no one actually reads the nutrition facts - but anyone who cares to take a quick glance would see that the serving size was 2 per bottle and thus, the product's name could be considered fraudulent or misleading. In a target market obviously concerned with the nutrition-related attributes of their sports drinks, why would you, as a corporate employee think that consumers would remiss-fully ignore the nutrition facts? I may be out of line here, but honesty can (once in a while) be the best policy...we are after all talking about a difference of five calories. Five calories put into perspective is merely chump change when compared to the average caloric intake represented by the average entree at your favorite sit-down restaurant.
The sports drink example is yet another instance in which executives making decisions about goods and services produced are out of touch with the third and final reality filter. If the ecolate (or ecolacy) filter was respected, then perhaps the consequences of such product launch decisions would have been somehow suspected before the damage was done. Personally, I lost respect for the company that manufactures the aforementioned sports drink. I cannot say, however, whether or not this calorie-splitting decision truly affected them on any kind of large scale. Whether it did or didn't; I maintain the belief that a gathering of small mistakes can be just as (or more) damaging as one large mistake.
