What’s in a Cigarette Brand?

David Sedaris in the New Yorker and Russ Smith in NY Press have begun a
conversation about the meaning of cigarette brands and the people who
smoke them.

Obviously, the brands say a lot about the smoker. Why wouldn’t they?
People are putting their lives on the line for them, so they ought to
stand for something important.

So how do you come up with an accurate meaning system other than
plucking stuff out of thin air? Can Sidaris really tell that Salems are
for alcoholics, is Smith right that you can trust a Marlboro smoker?

As the author of Cigarette Seduction, a book that delves into the
meaning of smoking as gleaned from the researchers who worked for the
tobacco companies, I can add some clarity.

The tobacco companies are not exactly oblivious to the deeper
significance of their brands. In fact, they began in 1922 by hiring
Freud’s first U.S. disciple, A.A. Brill to put Luckies on the couch to
figure out why women would smoke them. (“Torch of freedom,” he noted
plus it was important in an ad just who lit whose smoke.)

By the 50’s, Marloboro’s creators even published books about the
psychological testing behind the package. So most brands have a
carefully calculated meaning that is shaped by its marketing campaigns
and the user response – there is a kind of never-ending dialog going on
there.

The bottom line is that, if I didn’t know who Sidaris was but just
happened to see him smoke, I certainly would be forewarned by his
choice of Kool Milds that he was not your regular guy. Likewise, Russ
Smith, New York Press’ Mugger, is not entirely wrong in saying that he
would trust a Marlboro smoker.

Why?

Kool menthols are an odd choice for a sophisticated white male since
they are mostly popular with macho African Americans, some blue collar
whites and hip-hop wannabes. But since Sidaris chose milds, he was not
trying to keep up with the prevailing African-American machismo of the
brand. Instead, he was trying to set himself apart from standard white
male brands.

Since Kool was once the choice of blue collar white males who
considered menthols an amelioration of excessive smoking, the chances
are his family had blue collar roots. Today, menthols in general, are a
sign of pleasure-seeking or detachment. His choice of macho menthols
over say, the more feminine Salem (witchy force) or the more neutral
Newport (upward mobility) reflects his roots, his special creative
drive and sexual orientation. The brand also warns you about his
diabolic skewering of those close to him.

As for Marlboro, and Smith’s willingness to trust those smokers –
there’s an element of truth in that. Marlboro was designed to look like
a medal, so anyone who smokes it, tends to view it as some kind of
badge of honor. It is often ironic, but they do at least have a bit of
a command-and-serve instinct.

How do we know Marlboro was intended as a medal? That’s because, in the
50’s, researchers spent hundreds of thousands running tests with a
flashing projector at close to subliminal speeds to determine what
image, if any, should occupy the center of the pack. Hands down, he
crest won. If you take a closer look at the crest you’ll even see the
little inscription in Latin: Veni. Vidi. Vici. That was Julius Caesar’s
famous victory statement.

The best part is they were so proud of all this psychic probing that
researchers like Louis Cheskin even published books about this -
including pictures of him and George Weissman, the Philip Morris
executive in charge, on the back cover of “How To Predict What People
Will Buy” having a smoke while looking over color research.

Needless to say, very few Marlboro smokers are alike. But they share
some traits. You can narrow down the meaning of those traits once you
get to know their full smoking history. What, if anything did their
parents smoke? What brand did they kick of with (usually the parents’)
and what brand did they bond with? That differential alone tells you a
great deal about their entry into adult life.

Smith’s story is a good example. He copies his hip redheaded brother by
smoking Kools but begins a search for a more appropriate brand as he
cycles through other menthol choices (Newport, Alpine) until he finds
his center with non-menthol Merits. This is the brand of the
intellectual wannabe. An overachiever would love this brand, but so
would his opposite. Why? Because of the name and the strange upwardly
stepping chart-like graphic on the pack. If Sidaris sees this as the
brand of the sex addict, he has no basis except to say that if you
smoke this brand and like sex a lot, you could be an overachiever.