{I} f you, my American reader, have ever watched The Great British Baking Show, you might have wondered why British contestants who obviously excel at their given talent nevertheless act as though they’re clueless. In America, saying something to the effect of “I’m not good at baking” in a baking competition would be taken seriously as a declaration of incompetence or the beginning of an emotional meltdown. But in Britain, expressions of self-confidence are often interpreted as arrogance, while self-effacement comes off as endearing and down-to-earth.
While both styles of self-presentation have their strengths and weaknesses, it is no coincidence that Americans are, in general, better at selling things (themselves included). They have the stomach for it in a way that British people do not. And it is in this spirit of admiration that I consider the TV ads at this year’s Super Bowl.
Consider the memorable celebrity cameos. The BMW ad featured Christopher Walken being irked over and again as various nobodies attempted to impersonate him. (Such a display of superiority would never fly in Britain.) The BetMGM (a gambling app) similarly made light of Tom Brady being too successful: “You’ve won enough.” In the Verizon ad, Beyoncé attempted to “break the internet” by reaching new heights of fame — literally, in one scene, as she ventured into outer space. Michael Cera advertised CeraVe moisturizer by suggesting that, really, it’s named after him.
Other ads delivered slick and persuasive pitches for chocolate, coffee, energy drinks, movies, beer, and doughnuts. A super PAC supporting RFK Jr. ran a political ad that simply superimposed RFK’s face on JFK’s 1960 ad, which, as Dan McLaughlin notes, was quite effective, given RFK’s aims.
For every 30 seconds of airtime, brands spent roughly $7 million. That adds up to an incredible amount of money. As a foreigner, I find it hard to cheer for the corrosive, consumerist post-war advertising boom, so well depicted in the series Mad Men, and its outsized role on American life, especially in recent decades thanks to TV and the internet.
Take health care. In the United States, unlike in the U.K. and most other countries, pharmaceutical companies can issue direct-to-consumer TV ads, though they must state risks and side effects alongside their pitch. (This they often do at such a breakneck speed that one can’t understand a word.) Or take politics. In Britain, strict regulations limit how much political campaigns can spend. Not so in America.
As for religion, if the fundamental narrative of every commercial is basically, You need [X] to be happy, some entrepreneurial-minded Christians have thought, Why not Christianity, too? Sunday’s Super Bowl game was the most-watched program in American television history. Some Christians thought it would be a golden opportunity to make a plug for Jesus.
Jonathan Roumie (The Chosen) and Mark Wahlberg featured in a commercial for Hallow, a Catholic prayer app. (Note that the prayer app was the commodity here.) Wahlberg’s message was heartfelt, without being mawkish, promoting prayer, patriotism, and family in an inoffensive 30 seconds unlikely to make much impression on non-Christians.
Another ad, by the “He Gets Us” campaign, sparked more controversy. It wasn’t promoting a product but, more opaquely, Christ himself. To do so, the commercial showed a series of images that looked AI-generated in which a diverse cast of non-Christians have their feet washed by a less diverse cast of people who are apparently Christian.
One vignette shows a black man in an alleyway having his feet washed by a a cop who is not black. Another depicts a young woman having her feet washed outside a Planned Parenthood clinic by a pro-life protester. Another shows a middle-class blonde, white woman washing the feet of a presumably illegal immigrant, a mother fresh off a bus and cradling an infant in her arms. The final image is of a white priest washing the foot of a young black or Hispanic man whose pose and dress indicate that he’s gay.
The closing captions read:
JESUS DIDN’T TEACH HATE.
HE WASHED FEET.
He gets us. All of us.
Jesus
As the Associated Press reports, critics on the left disliked the messenger, noting that “the campaign’s welcoming and progressive messages seem at odds with some of its Christian funders, who have also supported anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-abortion causes.”
On the right, critics disliked the message for being “woke” — some observed that no scene shows, say, a black person washing the feet of a white cop, or a leftist washing the feet of a MAGA-hat-wearing Trump supporter. And they saw in the ad a spiritual complacency about sin and a kind of pride bordering on blasphemy. Jesus does more than “get us,” they insisted — he saves us. An alternative commercial began to circulate on social media in which the characters featured were introduced as a former prostitute, a former jihadist, a former abortionist etc., all of whom had repented, left their life of sin, and become Christian.
True, becoming a follower of Jesus demands charity, chastity, obedience in a world that normalizes — and even celebrates — greed, lust, and the whims of the ego. But Mark Wahlberg’s ad was marketed as “Intermediate Christianity,” for those who already consider themselves Christian. It was especially meant as a reminder for Catholics to go to Mass on Ash Wednesday and during Lent, when they’re called to meditate on the high stakes and urgency of Christ’s message. Wahlberg’s ad offered something concrete and actionable, an app you can download.
By contrast, the “He Gets Us” ad was an attempt at “Entry Level” Christianity, offering not a Christian-oriented product but Christ himself as the product. It lacked Jesus’s message of “repent and believe.” But the presentation of his mysterious love was not, in my view, a mischaracterization. It was designed to get people to think for 60 seconds about why disciples of Jesus would wash anyone’s feet. For conservatives and those who are already Christian, the message largely missed the mark. But for progressives, perhaps it didn’t.
The “He Gets Us” ad wasn’t sophisticated or beautiful, and it certainly pandered to its target audience, as all commercials do. But the obstacle for religious ads, however well-meaning, is that Christianity is not a marketable commodity but a relationship with a person.