Tarpaulin gods
I will apologize in advance for anything that will be construed as an endorsement in this column. I am well aware, due to recent events, that politicians are willing to do anything—almost anything, anyway—for their names to be in print and a few seconds of airtime, negative or not-so-negative. Which is perhaps why senators are now at luxury to rewrite their resumés with the customary slashes of the aspiring starlet: singer/host, chef/endorser, and, in this case, senator/laundry detergent endorser.
And so, the inevitable list: Manuel “Mar” Roxas II for Tide detergent, Richard Gordon for Safeguard soap, Panfilo Lacson for Facial Care Center for Men, Francis Escudero for Circulan health supplement, Francis Pangilinan for Lucky Me Instant Noodles, and Loren Legarda for Lucida DS.
What I find difficult to believe is not so much that politicians have been jumping on the endorsement bandwagon and flashing their pearly whites at Metro Manila—with the exception of the honorable and well-coiffed Senator Legarda, who looks soulfully out of a pink billboard along North Avenue (Quezon City)—but the fact that major corporations seem to believe that the presence of the ladies and gentlemen of the republic in their commercials will effectively up their sales of Hapee and Lucida DS. Behind every endorsement, after all, is an army of producers, creative directors, and the entire phalanx of wallet-watching account managers who could have stood in the way of inflicting Lacson’s smirking mug on Edsa’s hapless commuters.
Of course there is nothing illegal about endorsing a product, the same way there is nothing particularly illegal about Bayani Fernando’s matinee-idol poster floating over his pink metropolis. It is simply a matter of ethics—whether it is correct for an individual who is mandated to represent the people to use that same mandate to sell soap to that same public. Senator Roxas did not get selected to promote Tide because of his dangerously good looks, he was selected because he is a respected member of the Philippine Senate with all the weight and dignity that being a senator naturally attributes to an individual. Yet in the grand republic of the Philippines, even the most basic rule of law is considered a negotiable condition—ethics is something else entirely. And how ethical is it to disguise campaigning with hawking health supplements and instant noodles?
Sen. Pia Cayetano, in a Downy commercial, claims her endorsement is in support of saving water. Senator Gordon says he’s been a consistent health advocate, having been with the Red Cross for 30 years. He also ticks off his experience of working as a branch manager of Safeguard manufacturer Procter & Gamble. For him, “The intent and core message of the Safeguard campaign is to teach the general public the benefits of proper hand-washing and its importance in preventing the spread of communicable disease.” Which of course is a ridiculous presumption. The intent of the Safeguard campaign is to sell soap, the same way that the intent of the Downy commercial is to sell detergent.
Senator Lacson has announced that it is within his right to endorse a product. “Maybe there are some who do not want other senators to make endorsements because no one would get them.” I admit that I may be wrong about Lacson’s motivations. After all, his endorsement may have nothing to do with the 2010 elections, and everything to do with an oversized ego.
The fact of the matter is this: that these individuals, some of whom are men and women I personally admire, have chosen to accept money—or ad space—in exchange for making public their preferred commercial products. To endorse a product is to swear allegiance to that product, and the hullabaloo over the need for political neutrality is justified when it comes to politicians. After all, products belong to corporate entities, the same entities that are financially affected by decisions made in the halls of Congress.
I am told that the value of a commercial endorsement to a politician is this: it keeps his name in the limelight, it keeps his face top-of-mind, it ensures a consistent campaign that promotes his virtues—all of which are wonderful things when you’re a man with a mission to conquer the voting booths in 2010. And yet at the same time, as campaign managers and PR endorsers have been arguing recently, top of mind does not always translate into votes. Prospero Pichay spent the most in the last senatorial campaign, with his pudgy Super Pichay mascot flitting from commercial to commercial, and yet he failed to make the crucial number of votes. Antonio Trillanes and Alan Peter Cayetano spent a fraction of that, but still made it to the magic 12.
How much sincerity is there when a naturally fair-skinned woman promotes skin care? How much integrity can we expect from a man who hawks facial care products on the national highway and claims it is because of a personal advocacy? And frankly, how moronic do these individuals believe the Filipino public is? In the recent book released by Newsbreak and the Konrad Adenauer Foundation on selling candidates, name recall is not the end-all and be-all of victory; both name and message need to come across with purpose and sincerity.
The public is maturing, even if the politicians are not.
