Articles

Parental Discretion Devised

Written by: Jeff Rodriguez, Historian

We all know that politics can be a dirty business. But on Sept. 19, 1985, things got really dirty – as in, completely inappropriate for the kids. And the PR pros.

That’s the day the U.S. Senate held a hearing on “porn rock.” The intention was to consider whether the content of some music may be inappropriate for children and, if so, what should be done about it. The driving force behind the hearing were four politically connected moms who had founded the PMRC – the Parents Music Resource Center. And the primary spokesperson for the group was Tipper Gore, wife of Senator Al Gore.

The PMRC wanted the record labels to put a warning sticker on albums that had explicit content and to create a rating system similar to the one used by the movie industry. They also wanted stores to conceal any albums with cover designs that were really hot. I mean, offensive.

Representing the degenerate musicians were Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider, Frank Zappa and John Denver, who attended because he mistakenly thought the topic was endangered species. What ensued was a superb public relations battle.

To make their case, the PMRC activists and several others read song lyrics and showed music videos. As the Washington Post reported, “The litany of licentiousness generated equal amounts of laughter and groans from the standing-room-only crowd.”

The activists also cited “the Filthy Fifteen:” fifteen songs they said were particularly objectionable. The list included songs by Prince, Judas Priest, AC/DC, Madonna and Black Sabbath; a longer list also named several songs by Yanni as musical abominations, but for different reasons.

But the musicians gave as good as they got. Snider admonished the group, “The full responsibility for defending my children falls on the shoulders of my wife and I, because there is no one else capable of making these judgments for us.” Zappa – rarely one for subtlety – called the PMRC’s proposal “an ill-conceived piece of nonsense,” adding it was “the equivalent of treating dandruff with decapitation.”

And Denver, whom the Senators probably had considered to be a ringer, said the proposals were similar to the Nazi book burnings. He further stated, “That which is denied becomes that which is most desired, and that which is hidden becomes that which is most interesting” – coincidentally, words I recall being told repeatedly throughout my college years.

Despite the musicians’ strong testimony, the record industry, which had several other legislative priorities, voluntarily agreed to add the warning stickers; that’s the “Parental Advisory” labels you’ve seen on many records (and at the entrance to each Popeye’s).

Side note: Tipper Gore was hardly a prude. She played the drums, and in her youth, she sat in with The Grateful Dead. She also performed in an all-female band called the Wildcats, and I’m sure they were really hot. I mean, offensive.

In the end, both sides could claim victory. Gore’s group got their labels and were very successful in raising awareness about explicit music lyrics. The raunchy performers, meanwhile, got some great exposure. One radio personality credited the PMRC with helping popularize heavy metal, and as Dee Snider later observed, the common response from kids was, “ ‘Now we know which records to buy!’ ”

 And we in the PR profession got another good lesson. Because even when your campaign is topping the charts, you have to be ready to deal with the misses. And the Missus.

Over the years, seat belt PR campaigns have helped save thousands of lives–despite our objections.

Written by: Jeff Rodriguez, Historian

This month’s column has some loose ends. For one, our research team has had a hard time confirming some specific dates. And two, our topic is seat belts–loose ones, to be exact.

Up until recently, Americans had a very uneasy relationship with seat belts. In the U.S., belts were introduced 1949; unfortunately traffic fatalities were already a concern. In 1959, one government official called it “the epidemic on the highways.”

But the innovation had more than a few skeptics. As one journalist reported, “Among the arguments put forth against seat belts was that they could cause internal injuries; that they prevented easy escapes from cars submerged in water; and that devices frequently failed.” The reporter added that, although researchers refuted these beliefs, “opposition remained fierce.”

Seat belts also were bad for business. In 1956, Ford’s advertising focused on their seat belts and other new safety features, while Chevy’s ads focused on power.  Chevy sales squashed the Blue Oval that year, prompting Henry Ford II to note that while their company was selling safety, “Chevrolet is selling cars.”

By 1963, 23 states had laws requiring carmakers to put seatbelts in the driver’s seat, and in 1968, federal legislation was passed. The catch is, while the government was requiring car makers to install the seat belts, there was no law requiring people to actually wear them.

During the decade, the National Safety Council tried to nudge Americans along with their “Buckle Up for Safety” PR campaign; the jingles were quite cute and still worth listening to.

The real struggle began in December 1984, when New York became the first state to require the use of seat belts. Notably, Texas was not far behind, passing its law in September 1985–before Oklahoma, Louisiana and Arkansas.  (To be fair, Arkansas did not really have a need for the law at that time, as most of the state’s vehicles were on cinder blocks.)

Opposition remained fierce. A radio personality gathered 45,000 signatures calling for a referendum, and some people cut the belts out. A national columnist compared a seat belt law to being fined for leaving the skin on your chicken, while an editorial writer railed, “In this country, saving freedom is more important than trying to regulate lives through legislation.” And no, I did not steal that line from my Twitter feed.

A regional survey confirmed the resistance, with many drivers finding seat belts to be “ineffective, inconvenient, and uncomfortable.” (Notably, the report also found that belt opposition was more likely “among persons who reported that they drove after marijuana use, or heavy drinking, or both.”)

Enter Vince and Larry, the crash test dummies. This PR campaign was introduced some time in 1985 (another loose end). The duo wrapped their serious message in clever humor and the tagline, “You could learn a lot from a dummy.” The campaign ran until 1999, winning numerous awards. More important, Vince and Larry are credited with dramatically increasing seat belt usage. In 2010, the costumes were (carefully) moved to the Smithsonian.

Accelerate to May 2002, when “Click It or Ticket” went nationwide. This PR campaign also made an impact: By 2008, seat belt usage had increased to 83 percent.

Today, the only state without a seat belt law is New Hampshire, whose state motto, fittingly, is “Live Free or Die.” The National Highway Something Something reports that from 2013-17, seat belts saved approximately 69,000 lives; their current slogan is, “Wear your belt every time—no matter how uncomfortable it feels or how far you’re going.” (Incidentally, if you want to see just how wimpy American PR campaigns really are, search for New Zealand seatbelt safety campaign.)

In June, the government concluded a month-long traffic safety radio campaign that ran in 13 states, including Texas. Chances are, you didn’t hear the ads—or perhaps you just didn’t notice them. After all, seat belts now are just so routine.

And what was once considered a radical affront to our liberty has become a norm most people not only tolerate but desire. But it has been a long road. As one journalist noted, seat belt acceptance required “public service campaigns, legal enforcement, and even regular reminders from our cars themselves.”

So take it from Vince and Larry: Skilled and dedicated PR professionals have repeatedly shown they can influence our thinking and save lives—if we will let them.