In an earlier post, I mentioned Renault’s “picturing families” ad for the Grand Scenic. In that spot, we follow a serial monogamist who has fathered many children, one of whom he learned about only last week.

A new Renault spot, “strawberries”, done by Publicis with music by Sporto Kantes, promotes the Twingo. In the spot, the Twingo belongs to a grandmother, who is driving young Sophie (= sophia, wisdom) to school. The pair are both wearing strawberry-colored seat belts (protection). As the pair reaches Sophie’s school, the girl’s (strawberry-colored) cell phone rings. Sophie fumbles in her handbag, from which spills the cell phone and a plastic wrapper.

The viewers see that the wrapper holds a strawberry-colored condom (protection). We see this before the grandmother, the better to gauge her reaction. “Sophie!”, exclaims the older woman. We see her granddaughter cringe, showing off her strawberry-colored lipstick. “So now you like strawberries?” adds the grandmother, to everyone’s surprise. The young girl is poised to take back her condom, but her grandmother quickly secrets it in her bra. The granddaughter laughs and smiles. The grandmother laughs, too.

As with the Renault spot for the Scenic, this ad could have been titled “taking liberties” or “taking license”. It makes fun of social conventions or expectations, and has a good time doing so.

Am I an Anglo-American puritan at heart? Am I fazed by a bit of French libertinage?

I think not. I hope not.

It’s not the sexual backbeat of these two ads that bothers me, but instead how the campaign works:

• First, the ads try to make me feel uncomfortable, and to laugh at my discomfort; ultimately, the ad wants me to evacuate my discomfort by laughing at it and about it. But I think I’m right to feel unease with a middle-aged man who learned that he fathered a child only last week, and who changes wives as often as one might change … an automobile. And I think I’m right to feel unease with an adolescent girl –too young to go to school alone– who carries with her a supply of flavored condoms. (The spot is broadcast at all hours, and I’m grateful that my children have shown discretion and tact not to ask me to comment on why condoms would be flavored.)
• Second, the ads are titillating. They are filmed to inspire fascination in persons or actions we find repellent. The Renault Scenic spot follows and takes the point of view of the father; when he confides in us details of the many women in his life, I can’t help but think that we’re meant to cheer him on. Likewise, in the Renault Twingo spot, the viewer cringes along with the young girl: we expect the grandmother to admonish Sophie, and we are surprised when she does not. Both ads show people who are not admirable but who succeed in their transgression, in “getting away with it”.

(photo by NYphotoblog.com)

In New York City, at the corner of 41st Street and Seventh Avenue, a billboard promoted the Weatherproof brand by showing one of its garments worn by US President Obama.

On the other side of the Atlantic, low-cost airline Ryanair made light of the then-upcoming wedding between French president Sarkozy and Carla Bruni. Thought bubbles show Bruni to be musing: “With Ryanair, all my family will be able to come to my wedding”.  Played straight, the ad comments on Bruni’s family, from Italy. As a joke, the ad kids about Sarkozy’s wish for a quiet ceremony, and about the considerable wealth of Bruni’s family.

Now rent-a-car company Sixt features the French presidential couple. There are no photos, only text. And although the ad exists on billboards in Germany, it is only found on the car rental company’s French web site. The ad shows a compact car and a tagline: “Do like Mrs. Bruni: opt for a small French model”.

I am less interested by the legality of these ads –do they violate a privacy interest? do they impermissibly convey state sponsorship?– than by their business interest. For these ads, which matters more: the actual campaign (which the advertiser controls) or the media thunderclap that they inevitably generate (which the advertiser does not control)? In either case, are these ads effective? Do they increase sales or build brand awareness? If so, is a political leader a better ambassador for a product than a sports star, movie actress, or other kind of celebrity?

The U.S. General Accountability Office, the serious and non-partisan investigative arm of the Congress, released a report this month, Observations on Efforts to Quantify the Economic Effects of Counterfeit and Pirated Goods. Among the report’s findings:

• the economy-wide impact of counterfeiting and piracy is unknown;
• despite significant efforts, it is difficult, if not impossible, to quantify the net effect of counterfeiting and piracy on the economy as a whole;
• three commonly cited estimates of U.S. industry losses due to counterfeiting cannot be substantiated, in other words are based on nothing;
• there is no evidence to support a “rule of thumb” that measures counterfeit trade as  a proportion of world trade, such as a widely cited 5 to 7% of world trade, attributed to the International Chamber of Commerce.

The U.S. GAO report is clearly drafted and offers readers a multiple-page bibliography.

It isn’t the first report to point out that data on the impact of counterfeiting and piracy don’t exist.

In 2008, the OECD published a report, The Economic Impact of Counterfeiting and Piracy, which found that impact assessments “rely exclusively on fragmentary and anecdotal information; where data are lacking, unsubstantiated opinions are often treated as facts.”

I’ve written and taught about intellectual property. I wouldn’t want to understate its importance. But I’m wary of empirical arguments used to justify public policies, such as the misguided “Hadopi” law in France, where I live. Where counterfeiting –goods that bear an unauthorized mark– or piracy –copies made without a right holder’s consent– are concerned, the data simply do not exist that would show a net economic effect.

Justice minister Michèle Alliot-Marie wanted to prosecute, but found that the law didn’t allow this; Alliot-Marie now is “looking into how we could legally fill this void.”

Interior Minister Brice Hortefeux described what had happened as “unacceptable outrage”, and added that “no one can accept that free expression be deviated without regard for the emblem of our country.”

Flag desecration has made news in France.

Here’s what happened. In Nice, on the French Riviera, a store (that sells books and recorded music, and that probably wanted to boost foot traffic) held a photo contest. A photo (showing a person wiping his behind with a French flag) won an award for political incorrectness. A newspaper reported on the prize. Some people got upset. State prosecutor Eric de Montgolfier dismissed a criminal complaint because the law has an exception for creative work.

I remember when flag burning had been a hot issue in American politics. Usually temperate voices went so far as to call for a constitutional amendment to criminalize the practice. Of course, flag burning had been a marginal practice then, and is basically unheard-of today.

I expect the same will happen in France, even if freedom of expression is less deeply rooted in France than in the USA.

What disappoints me in the French case is less the anger voiced by politicians than the artistic poverty of the incriminated photo.

From press reports, the photographer’s identity seems to be a closely guarded secret; I couldn’t find it. Who are we dealing with: an artist who wants to make a statement, or an adolescent out to get a rise from conventional elders?

Likewise, press reports that defended the photo claim, as I read them, that the work had been taken out of context. Isn’t that saying that the photo was only one entry in a freak-show lineup of images intended to shock only for the sake of shocking? If the work is intended to make a statement, why would context matter?

Activia yogurt

Danone (known in the USA as Dannon) makes high-quality yogurts. It’s a big company that plays by the rules.

I was surprised to read, buried in a press release on a promising first quarter, that Danone had withdrawn requests pending before a European authority to make health claims about two of its dairy products.

EFSA is the European Food Safety Authority. EFSA “was set up in January 2002, following a series of food crises in the late 1990s” as an impartial, pan-EU regulatory agency. One of EFSA’s missions is to review nutrition and health claims.

Danone is committed to “nutriceuticals” or “probiotics” and has a history of making claims about health, or that suggest healthiness:

Bio brand yogurt

• A line of dairy products was long named “Bio”. In French, “bio” is shorthand for “organic”. Danone’s product was not organic. The producer said the name was derived from “bios”, Greek for “life”. But why wasn’t the name then “bios”, and why was the product name was displayed on a green background?
• Danone subsequently chose a new name for the Bio line: “Activia”. In the name, there’s “via”, “life”. Much of the product advertising has centered around “feeling better” and improved digestion.
• Danone also introduced “Actimel”, a drinkable fermented milk product. Actimel is compared to a “fortifier” in French product advertising.

Actimel product

Danone has withdrawn its applications to make health claims about Activia and Actimel before the EFSA because, the company says, the regulator’s criteria are “unclear”.

I’m torn: I’d prefer straightfoward health claims to veiled allusions (which is how I’ve understood Danone’s past product advertising), but I’d want a European regulator to apply strict rules on health claims (such as vegetable sterols that help manage cholesterol). I’m not sure whether or how the two aims can be reconciled.

Burberry features Emma Watson, an actress best known for her role in the Harry Potter series of films. Ms. Watson turns 20 this year. I think of Burberry as an older brand, vaguely matronly. This campaign changes my mind.

Dior‘s Eau Sauvage cologne for men features a handsome young man in its campaign. The handsome man happens to be Alain Delon, a French actor who turns 75 this year. I like this campaign because it makes me think of Eau Sauvage, like Alain Delon, as a living legend. It turns out that the photo of Delon dates from 1966, the year that Eau Sauvage was launched. If you’re under 30, chances are that you haven’t a clue who the man in the campaign is.

Citroën has two spots. Both show a talking celebrity before the “anti-retro” tagline and visuals of the automobile. One spot features John Lennon, the other shows Marilyn Monroe.

There’s been lots of press coverage on the use of the celebrities’ likeness, but three other points caught my attention:

• The audio track doesn’t match the visuals. I first wondered whether this was just a dubbing problem. (In France, the spots are in English, with French subtitles.) But I couldn’t imagine Monroe saying “you should create your own icons” –people didn’t talk like that 50 years ago– and the footage of Lennon, talking about “nostalgia for the ’60s and ’70s”, looks as though it predates 1970. The spoken words turn out to be a pure fiction, paired with real visuals. I’m not comfortable with putting words in people’s mouths.
• If the anti-retro tagline has a meaning, it’s lost on me. Monroe and Lennon are figures from the past. The Citroën DS3 looks, to my eyes, much like the Mini, a classic car.
• Monroe and Lennon both died unfortunate deaths, at a young(ish) age. I know this and can’t help but think of it whenever I see Monroe or Lennon. It’s a sad and serious thought. It does not make me want to go out and buy or look at a new car.

I thought back to this anecdote while reading a thoughtful and data-rich report from the Pew Research Center on how people (American people, in this case) get news. Most Americans say they follow the news most or all of the time, generally with several news sources: television, online, radio, newspaper.

I suspect that Europeans seek out and consume news like Americans. But I’m disappointed that the offer of European news hasn’t kept pace with technological change.

As in 1994, a Paris resident like me can buy daily papers, at a neighborhood newsstand, from France, the UK, Germany, Italy, and Spain. The biggest changes are an increase in price, and the inroads made by papers with a European scope, such as The Wall Street Journal (Europe) and The Financial Times.

Most European papers have web sites that feature daily newspaper content, and I can access these pages easily, without paywalls. This is a positive change, but I regret two things:

• many papers seem to offer watered-down versions of their print editions, whereas I seek out strong or clearly expressed editorial voices;
• as with print newspapers, it remains difficult to access news from European countries with small populations and distinct languages: Finland, Lithuania, Bulgaria (Cyrillic alphabet), Greece (Greek alphabet).

Radio and television news from European neighbors is as difficult to access in 2010 as it was in 1994. Cable networks seem to favor exotic fare, especially from the Middle East or North Africa, at the expense of leading stations from European neighbors. And radio seems paralyzed by an unwillingness either to use the Internet or to let people abroad know about Internet radio streams.

ACTA is an effort by a “coalition of the willing” –basically industrialized developed countries– to harmonize legal protections for intellectual property. Although not under the aegis of the World Trade Organization, the negotiations are conduct in GATT-style rounds, the most recent of which concluded in Guadalajara, Mexico, at the end of January. The next round is scheduled to be held in New Zealand in April.

Reports on ACTA negotiations in Le Figaro, Le Monde, The Financial Times, and The New York Times all emphasized one point: secrecy.

What is the problem?

• Some commentators go too far when they evoke a “secret treaty”. There is no secret AFTA treaty (hopefully: if there were, we wouldn’t know about it, and it probably couldn’t be enforced). It’s the ACTA negotiations that are secret.
• Some negotiating parties, such as the United States or the European Union, point out that international agreements traditionally have been negotiated in secrecy. Such is the art and practice of diplomacy.
• In keeping with this tradition, the negotiating parties don’t disclose texts under discussion. Although they have recently issued descriptive press releases, the lack of information and transparency rankles some, especially journalists.
• For others, diplomatic secrecy offends democratic sensibilities. Concerned citizens should have knowledge of matters under negotiation in their name, they argue. Secrecy is by nature suspect.
• A part of this offended group bemoans the lack of public access. For them, secrecy is a problem because discussions occur in meetings held behind closed doors, out of public sight. What makes this exclusion unbearable is the input that governments have actively solicited from private interests, mostly corporations that hold intellectual property rights.
• Another offended group consists of the people’s elected representatives, sitting in national parliaments. They object because they see in ACTA an attempt to bypass parliamentary debate and deliberation, anywhere in the world. At most, they will be asked to ratify a final product, on which they’ve had no say.

I don’t why the flurry of news reports coincided with the adjournment of negotiations. ACTA has been around for a while. Concerned groups have been vociferous in their opposition for years. When papers of record chime in with articles that highlight secrecy, politicians in national governments have good cuse to take notice. Hopefully, ACTA will be shelved.

ACTA’s sponsors have made plenty of false steps:

• The draft treaty’s name is dreadful: it’s only “anti-”, without being “for” anything. Counterfeiting, like piracy, has become a loaded term that puts some on the opposition from the outset. It’s too bad the drafters didn’t instead highlight cultural heritage, creative rights or protecting innovation.
• Conducting negotiations outside of an institutional framework only aggravated negative impressions. Holding talks in exotic locales did nothing to dissipate these concerns.
• Reflexive bureaucratic refusals to provide information only fueled speculation and fears. ACTA has taken on an aura reminiscent of Robert Ludlum’s fictional Operation Treadstone (featuted in the Jason Bourne books and films). At this point, so much time has past, and so much credibility has been lost, that almost anything a government says will be considered by many as misleading or false.

After the French state filed a trademark application, observers noticed an uncanny similarity between the Hadopi logo and Bienvenue, a font specially created by Jean-François Porchez for France Telecom, which subsequently used the Bienvenue font in a logo for its Wanadoo brand.

After this abuse was exposed, Hadopi’s design people acquired rights to commercially available fonts; they will reportedly have to file a new trademark application.

Hopefully this episode will lead to greater appreciation for fonts –such as those created by Porchez’s Typofonderie– and for the need to license them.

Apart from the typographic font, I’m left with a lingering sense of similarity between Hadopi’s logo and Wanadoo’s. And I’m unnerved by the red “eye” at the logo’s center, reminiscent of the malevolent HAL from Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.

French trademark application, filed 16 November 2009