Human beings are creatures too.
Certainly, we share a creaturely susceptibility to basic needs. Alongside the lower order animals, we seek sustenance. We long for companionship. We want warmth and air. This is part of our embodied nature. We are in the world.
It comes as little surprise, then, to learn that human beings fall for some of the same tricks we use to train dogs, horses, and other animals – indeed – that we respond to the same systems of reward. We are vulnerable, in other words, to conditioning. This means that we can be manipulated by the clever use of stimulus and response. Ring a bell and feed a dog, observe his salivation – now repeat the exercise. Eventually the dog will salivate upon hearing the bell. This is classical conditioning.
There are more subtle versions of the technique, but from even this basic example it is easy to understand how the existence of conditioning, and its deliberate use, might equip a perceptive man with successful shortcuts to learning and persuasion.
Indeed, the basic fact of human vulnerability to conditioning is well known and regularly exploited in advertising. The results there are instructive.
The typical method is very close to the classic stimulus-response model. Think of a preeminent brand.
Now, think of the way it is presented to the market. Chances are that images, sounds, and other stimuli will be used to pair the brand with desirable attributes, such as youth, vitality, freedom, or happiness. Think of a cola commercial. Like the dog when he hears the bell, viewers salivate on cue.
Sometimes, more often in political advertising, conditioning is used to create a negative association.
The thing in question (eg a candidate) is linked with scandal, corruption, weakness, or some other undesirable trait via the use of ominous music, grainy imagery, or any of a number of symbols that connote wrongdoing or irresponsibility. Pigs and clowns are stock stand-ins and irritation is a commonly targeted response.
At the last Federal election, for instance, the ALP used conditioning (an advertisement that featured a loud, annoying buzzer) to persuade the audience to vote against the Coalition. Such attempts are highly successful – at least until the audience learns to resist the manipulation.
Certainly, once apprised of such things, one can sort manipulative aspects out from facts. We can attempt to discern the truth of any situation, free from the tricks and tactics of control.
Catholics generally, but especially those in Western nations where the methods of marketing are entrenched and relatively sophisticated, must be wary.
ndeed, an otherwise fair newspaper article on vocations to the priesthood, for instance – perhaps reporting on a rise in the numbers of young men entering the seminary – might be accompanied by a photograph of empty pews. The hidden message is obvious and negative.
Similarly, in times such as these when the Church is assailed by allegations of child sex abuse, some sub-editors and other publishing professionals will choose manipulation and conditioning to sell another message alongside the bleak news. In many cases, indeed, abuse allegations – some of them trumped up, too many painfully real – will be accompanied by distracting stimuli (particularly images of a deeply sacred nature and Gregorian chant excerpted from the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass) meant to vilify Catholics.
The idea is to condition nasty, bitter, cynical responses: all priests are paedophiles, all religious people are sex-obsessed, and all nuns are harsh and cruel.
Here are just two recent examples:
An article in the Guardian newspaper “Vatican Hit by Gay Sex Scandal” (4 March 2010) included a photograph shot at an angle that suggested the Holy Father and his assembled Cardinals were themselves engaged in a homosexual group sex act. The subliminal message was so blunt and obvious that the liberal Huffington Post called the newspaper out on its “Photo FAIL”.
A digital image by Judy Green that ran alongside an opinion article (22 March 2010) by Madeleine Bunting in The Age newspaper (the article was syndicated from the Guardian) showed a stained glass window-style priest figure vested in surplice and stole (perhaps for Confession). His hands were on the shoulder and head of a small boy.
This otherwise innocuous image was given a deeply offensive subliminal meaning by means of a black square, such as one might see in a censored image, inserted across the priest’s eyes.
Both images were deeply offensive to Catholics, perhaps deliberately so given the consistently prurient treatment of these issues in certain publications, but – and this is the real worry – both images were also highly manipulative.
With sustained deployment, such tricks are used to condition readers to associate Catholic imagery, Sacraments, and even individuals with gay sex and child sex crimes.
Once one knows the truth about conditioning, however, it is easy to see through the dirty tricks. Catholics can change the channel, or buy another newspaper. If the source is a public one, paid for with tax dollars, Catholics must complain until the situation improves.
The issues surrounding homosexuality on the one hand, and child sex abuse on the other, are certainly disturbing enough without a nasty, distracting war of propaganda and image manipulation waged alongside by unscrupulous publishing professionals. Forewarned is forearmed.
John Heard is a Melbourne writer. email dreadnought@gmail.com