Amsterdam’s new ban on public advertisements for meat and fossil fuel products makes me wonder whether we should be more ban-happy with ads in the UK. There are plenty I want rid of: “See it, say it, sorted”, obviously, which refuses to die, and those LNER ads featuring a hideously perky puppet treating train travel like an excuse for a party (pipe down, Eleanor). Also up against the wall when I’m in charge: overly matey ads for banks (don’t you dare call me “bestie” when you’re selling me an Isa); any catchy jingle that displaces the scraps of useful information still clinging on in my brain; and the whole wellness grift of snake oil powders and goo.
But if I could ban only one type of advertising, I’d go after gambling. It’s hard not to sound like a Victorian tub-thumping religious zealot when you rant about gambling ads, but my God, they’re grotesquely disingenuous and cynical, making out that high street slot shops and online gaming sites are all razzle-dazzle and sparkle; that it’s a bit of fun for cheeky chappies and gorgeous gals.
