This is what tube ads tell us about millennials

If only there was something to take our minds off it all - something to entertain our weary, wandering minds.

Enter: the tube advert.

Tube ads are everywhere – from digital screens flickering on escalator walls to epic multi-sheet spreads taking over entire station platforms. Tube advertising is big business. The current Underground advertising contract, held by Exterion Media, is estimated to generate ad revenue of around £150 million a year. It gives the holder instant access to a huge captive audience of around 1.4 billion passengers who use the Underground annually - predominantly middle class, young, affluent people.

But what do tube ads tell us about these people? 

We asked an optimist (journalist Alexandra Jones), and a pessimist (journalist Tristan Cross) what these adverts are really telling us about Londoners, and got an expert view from the director of the Granada Centre for Visual Anthropology, Professor Andrew Irving.

Disclaimer: this article, and its analysis of the weird world of tube ads, is intended as satire. In other words - it's just for the lolz.

Our relationship to food...

Alexandra Jones, the optimist: "Londoners, these ads speak the truth. They say, ‘gone are the days when sitting down to dinner was a pleasurable experience to be shared with loved ones’. And I say, good riddance! Who needs dinner with friends – that’s a weekend activity. Weeknights should be for indulging in the kind of behaviour that’s only acceptable when no-one's around. Get in bed with a korma and a bag of broccoli, and enjoy the evening’s Love Island – you deserve this ‘me time'."

Tristan Cross, the pessimist: "You wake up, go to work, work, return from work, and then need to eat. Why do you need to eat? So you can keep yourself alive long enough to work again tomorrow. The only time you have to briefly contemplate food is when you’re on the tube (as you’re being shunted to and from work). The adverts invitingly offer to ‘solve’ your annoying need for sustenance with a £10 curry. That’s what food is to you now." 

Andrew Irving, the expert: If our ancestors were hunter-gatherers and – later – agricultural growers, the commuter is now a digital harvester, “a forager of a different kind”, suggests Andrew. Yup, it’s no longer about roving all day to gather the evening meal; “dinner comes to us – within 20 minutes, if we need it – rather than us chasing after it."

Our working lives...

Alexandra Jones, the optimist: "K, so it looks like Londoners need jobs – and they need them fast. Which is true, tbf, because have you seen how much a sandwich costs in almost any food outlet? It’s a lot. And I like sandwiches. Luckily, if you can colour-coordinate, or leap into the air while also holding a frying pan, then there are people out there who’ll possibly employ you – and will probably pay you in bacon, too."

Tristan Cross, the pessimist: "Firstly, people are submitting themselves to the hell of riding the tube without even a job to go to? Where are they going? And why? Secondly, it seems like the only kind of work available is both competitive and precarious. I’m just not sure about the kind of company that will hire chefs at the drop of a hat as long as they can hold a pan and leap at the same time. If that’s the only criterion, they could replace you with another chef, who can leap higher. And even if you manage to stay in this work, how do you know you’re being properly compensated? You can cook and leap? Ask for a raise, I reckon."

Andrew Irving, the expert: According to these adverts, “humans get money through selling their bodies to other bodies who have more money than them,” says Andrew. So, as long as you’ve got a body to sell, you’re golden.

Our quest for love...

Alexandra Jones, the optimist: "I’d argue that these ads show that we’re all striving towards a more inclusive, accepting world: yes, we’re all atomised and lonely (with imperfections and, it seems, erectile dysfunction), but at least we’re atomised and lonely together. Our sexual fate, as well as our sexual health, no longer need to be left to chance – we’ve got lovely websites that’ll hook us up with others who’ll hold us, and/or diagnose our ills. Love is found and lost online, science will help us find the one, and if you don't like your proposed partner you can always cancel your free trial. Brilliant."

Tristan Cross, the pessimist: "You might think, 'Dammit, why is it so hard to find an inconsiderate loser who thinks their personality defects are endearing traits these days?' Well, according to these ads, you’ve been looking in all the wrong places. You keep trying to meet prospective suitors in the flesh, trusting your idiotic heart to make a meaningful connection with another person, when really you ought to leave the love business to an algorithm. Get yourself on premium dating services where thousands of Marks (newly cured of any erectile issues) are queuing up to meet and do all sorts of charming things, like forget their wallets every time you go on a date."

Andrew Irving, the expert: These ads show that we’re living in a world where the previous “established social rituals and traditions of meeting a partner have broken down,” says Andrew. Love is now a matter of economics, where “bodies and persons need to be organised and arranged” into partnerships. In order to avoid deteriorating into, or remaining a socially-taboo singleton, we must engage in “shamanistic guidance and consultation”. And because we don’t do anything in real life anymore, it’s all done through an online portal.

Our health and wellbeing...

Alexandra Jones, the optimist: "So these ads seem to imply that if you’re ill, then you’re probably a woman. But, as anyone who’s ever met a man will know, they get ill as well. Silly advertising people. The ads also give us a clue about what’s bothering us Londoners – we’re all a bit tired and we’d like to see the GP (but only at 3am). And who can argue with that? We’re just striving to live life well, y’know?" 

Tristan Cross, the pessimist: "These hint at the near-future of healthcare where prospective patients and their potentially life-threatening ailments are diagnosed via Skype. Move the camera slightly closer to your rear, the doc can’t tell if it’s a worrying growth or just haemorrhoids. Just as some docs almost don’t have time for an appointment IRL, you don’t have time to go to them, either. The various commitments that comprise your daily life leave you so tired that you are nodding off on the tube home as you read the adverts. That’s not healthy, pal, you should probably go see someone about that. Or, throw some tablets at the problem. They’ll keep you alert enough to remain a functioning and productive member of the workplace." 

Andrew Irving, the expert: In a bygone era, our bodies were actually a useful thing to have. “They hunted for food, worked the land, and looked out for danger.” For the commuter, however, they are simply “a problem to be solved, treated, and enhanced.” And, in a notable twist, the commuter caught in this matrix of treatment and supplement is exclusively female, white, and blonde. 

So, next time you find yourself sitting dead-eyed on the Central Line, let your brain absorb the messaging around you and ask yourself: is this what I really look like to the rest of the world outside the M25?

This article was originally published on 8 June 2018.

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