The Campaign issue: Campaigning 101
SINGAPORE — “I always move in,” sighed my colleague, who happens to share the same name as the Land Transport Authority’s latest animated ambassador for better commuter behaviour, Move-In Martin. You have probably seen him — Move-In, not my colleague — on posters and in online videos, of course: A post-Rogaine Humpty Dumpty with a hipster makeover. Along with Give-Way Glenda and Stand-Up Stacey, he represents the gracious side of you, which doesn’t hog the doorway and gives up your seat on the train.
SINGAPORE — “I always move in,” sighed my colleague, who happens to share the same name as the Land Transport Authority’s latest animated ambassador for better commuter behaviour, Move-In Martin. You have probably seen him — Move-In, not my colleague — on posters and in online videos, of course: A post-Rogaine Humpty Dumpty with a hipster makeover. Along with Give-Way Glenda and Stand-Up Stacey, he represents the gracious side of you, which doesn’t hog the doorway and gives up your seat on the train.
It’s far from the first time a cute cartoon character with an alliterative name has tried to guilt-trip us into being well-adjusted, well-behaved members of society. Having just gracefully entered our 49th year of being a nation, it is worth noting that we probably would not be quite the same people we are today if not for the social and behavioural campaigns that have been prodding us in the right direction since the 1960s.
It’s easy to spot a campaign — subtlety is not its strong suit. Campaign posters, videos and images are highly pictorial and brightly coloured. They contain simple, effective messages put across in short sentences with no big words. Often, they come with cuddly mascots and catchy theme songs that may or may not be accompanied by hand actions.
Their aims are maternal and, most of the time, for your own good, like the Wash Your Hands campaign that has seen various incarnations since the ’70s; 1972’s campaign against long unkempt hair among males; 1981’s Seat Belts Save Lives campaign; the Speak Good English Movement that started in 2000; and let’s not forget the slightly bizarre Eat Frozen Pork campaign of 1985. Because, you know, who doesn’t love defrosting a cutlet?
If this particular brand of communication is starting to jolt a distant memory, here is why it all sounds kind of familiar: It’s the sort of treatment we received in kindergarten. Back when we were tiny tots, grown-ups told us, without sugar-coating their words or beating politely around the bush, exactly how they would like us to behave. Don’t fling sand in the playground, let others have a turn at the toy, don’t stick your boogers on the underside of your desk, and don’t talk back to your mother. Basically, “play nice and keep your nose clean”, but in a thousand different, detailed and very personal ways.
Wondering if there really is a similarity between child-rearing and campaign strategies — and not being a parent myself — I asked my mother: “In your experience, how do you get misbehaving children to do as you say?” She thought for an eternity, then frowned and replied: “I don’t know. I’ve never had that experience.”
Okay, so, apparently, I was a disgustingly perfect model child who was seen and not heard. Since my mother was obviously going to be of no help, I turned, naturally, to Google. A search for “parenting 101” offered up some tips for wrangling wee ones:
1. Demonstrate in detail how you would like the child to behave.
2. Get down to their level: Physically, stoop down to match their height; mentally, imagine how the situation looks to them.
3. Use a soft, confident tone of voice.
4. Don’t ask the child to do something. Tell them to do it.
5. Reward good behaviour and enforce consequences for bad behaviour.
Does that not sound eerily similar to how campaigns, with their direct, prescriptive and imperative nature, their viscerally appealing bold visuals, and their soft approach, are conducted? Parenting, as the saying goes, is the art of getting kids to do what you want them to do and to stop doing what you don’t want them to do. Replace “kids” with “the general populace” and you will have a pretty good working definition of campaigning.
The thing is, campaigns are not aimed at children. Children, it is universally assumed, ought to be taught how to behave by their parents. Campaigns are for adults who, presumably, were raised by wolves.
Yes, campaigns infantilise the adult population. If that makes you bristle, well, let’s face it: Some segments of the population (not you and me, of course — we are perfect) seem to need to be told what to do. Some of them are rebellious, contrarian children. And some of them just need to be jolted out of their languid stupor: Life isn’t all about you; other people exist, too.
But if I have learnt one thing from watching oddly addictive Supernanny reruns, it’s that there is such a thing as over-involved parenting: A child who is babied remains a child, Jo Frost avers. And I wouldn’t dare cross Jo Frost. Could that be the reason why, in spite of all the many campaigns — or even possibly because of them — we seem to have some way to go before we can be considered a mature and gracious society?
It is a difficult conundrum because, ultimately, laws and prescriptions can conscribe our actions, but they cannot control our hearts — some things we just have to figure out for ourselves. The penny may never drop for some individuals, no matter how many campaign slogans are shouted in their faces.
But for the rest of us, our parents’ go-to admonishment whenever we protested against their intolerable cruelty ends up sticking to our faces and smelling of tuna: “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, then don’t act like one.” In other words: Grow up. See the bigger picture. Take responsibility for yourself and others. Those who transcend being micromanaged are those who find something bigger to live by than their own immediate concerns.
Now, excuse me while I go blow my nose.
CORRECTION: In the story Campaigning 101 (Sept 6), we reported that the character Move-in Martin and other similar characters were part of a campaign for better commuter behaviour by SMRT. This is incorrect. The campaign was launched by the Land Transport Authority.