Redemption: It's Good for Business

By Roger Rosenblatt

The National Rifle Association did something odd last week, even by its standards. Responding to the Million Mom March in Washington for gun control, the N.R.A. presented television and newspaper ads in which its president, Charlton Heston, and an "N.R.A. mom" announced a new challenge program. "We're putting up the first $1 million to put gun-safety education in every classroom," said Heston. The N.R.A. mom added, "That's a million N.R.A. moms challenging a million more moms just like you."

I'm not sure what an N.R.A. mom is, though one wonders what she puts in the kids' lunch boxes. But I know an impressive "outreach" initiative when I see one. The Philip Morris Co. has been engaging in similar efforts for the past year or so. The tobacco and so-much-more company has new ads proclaiming its support of the "We Card" program to prevent children from buying cigarettes. In the ad, a bunch of kids dressed for a prom attempt to buy smokes from a kindly yet firm store owner, who tells us that belonging to the We Card program makes it easier for him to turn down the kids. There is a lacuna in logic here, but the point, apparently, is that Philip Morris opposes killing anyone until he reaches majority.

Redemption through good works, or the effort to achieve it, is almost always a heartening sight, even when one knows that for the N.R.A. and Philip Morris, redemption is at least as good for business as it is for the soul. Advertising, as we have learned from long experience, is an alchemical invention. If the N.R.A. and Philip Morris continue to fill TV screens and papers with their exciting promotions, it will not be long before our eagerly malleable subconsciouses associate both organizations with the polar opposite of what they really do for a living.

That said, these redemptive activities on the part of unattractive businesses and interest groups--however they may be inspired by lawsuits and public disapproval--do represent bona fide good deeds. Philip Morris, in fact, is nearly as diversified in civic work as it is in its profit centers. It has launched a $100 million-a-year campaign to reshape its image by backing the environment, the arts and summer camps for children with HIV or AIDS. Is it right, one asks, to discount such deeds because one condemns the source? What if the Ku Klux Klan were to institute a $1 million campaign for universal literacy, with a K.K.K. mom appearing on TV and asking, "Won't you join us in making good readers a clan we can all be proud of? Thank you."

Or, to return to Planet Earth, what if the liquor dealers of America were to create a challenge program for the best driver's education program in the country? It would be in line with their campaign against mixing drinking and driving and in favor of using a designated driver. The only trouble with the idea of a designated driver, who is sober, is that it distracts one's attention from the passengers, who may be headed back to wife and family stewed to the gills and ready to come out swinging. If the liquor businesses were interested in full disclosure, their ads might end, "Let's keep excessive drinking in the home, where it belongs."

No, I am not for bringing back Prohibition. But here is where the problem of these efforts at redemption lies. Yes, they are worthy. Without Philip Morris, many of the best arts programs would be hanging by a thread. But there is also a shell game in progress. Every one of these good works is meant to draw one's eyes away from main purposes. One is tempted to say, "Duh," but Philip Morris would not need to worry about selling cigarettes to minors if it did not sell cigarettes at all. The N.R.A. would not need to teach gun safety if it did not promote the use of more and more guns.

On the Today show, Katie Couric confronted Wayne LaPierre, executive vice president of the N.R.A., on why the group brought forward its gun-safety education challenge in the week of the Million Mom March. Couric said, "It appears the N.R.A. might be a little nervous about the image and the p.r. problem that 150,000 mothers descending on Washington will create." LaPierre responded, "No, not at all. I mean, we're pro-mom. What we want to see is this week used for something positive." Indeed, they do. He encapsulated exactly the aim of all these activities, which is to make us feel good about something bad. Of course, it is also nice to know that the N.R.A. is pro-mom.

(Note to the N.R.A.: I'd get rid of LaPierre as spokesperson, if I were you. There is something definitely un-endearing about him. Suggest you create a cartoon character in the spirit of Joe Camel. Cross Hairs the Bunny--something like that.)

Religion teaches us to reward the convert--the Scrooge who becomes generous, the Lord Jim who serves the weak. For conversion to be admirable, however, it must be complete. Then everyone is pleased--the forgivers and the forgiven. Won't you join me in embracing the N.R.A. when it is no longer interested in fostering gun sales, and Philip Morris when it ceases to make one more Marlboro? And when pigs fly? Thank you.