There’s a billboard about nine miles North of Cincinnati on I71 that advertises for Dusty’s, a store selling marital (hopefully) aids. It pictures the derriere of a woman sparsely clothed in lacey lingerie. It’s appalling. I for one thought surely we had better public decency laws. But I’m not writing to say we need to take down the asinine Dusty’s billboard specifically. We need to take down all billboards.

Billboards are evil because they are uncharitable. Billboards do not treat people how my mother taught me to treat people. It is not kind to incessantly bother our friends about the things they don’t have. It is not nice of us to cover up the sky with pictures of ourselves. It is not considerate to fill our neighbor’s eyes with noise.

Selling must be kept to the marketplace. To call to mind the wise words of Professor Oak, “There’s a time and place for everything, but not now.” When we let commerce overstep its bounds and invade all of our life we’re forgetting the purpose of commerce. We produce and trade to live happy, holy lives. If you live solely to buy and sell, you’re doing it wrong. Billboards are always selling. Driving to your uncle’s funeral? You should buy this new luxury sedan, because your time here is short! There is so much more to life than more stuff. I’ll tell you when I’d like to talk about buying a new car. 

We did not ask for this. We did not ask to accidentally read an elevator pitch about the latest wristwatch. Billboards are the visual equivalent of a jackass with a megaphone. Imagine marching through a nice suburb to preach the gospel of the newest liposuction to all of corporate marketing’s middle manager’s wives. Wouldn’t last long, would it? Because it’s assault. If the brain is a mind palace, then a billboard is a home-invading salesman. Why are we okay with that? How are we to develop a spiritual and intellectual interior life while being sold to constantly? 

No wonder our kids can’t focus. No wonder our kids are fat. 3CDC installed weird glowy screens in Pendleton to advertise candy bars.

Sure, an OTR landlord has some right to paint the side of his building. It would seem he has the right to paint an ad on the side of his building. But what gives him the right to print the inverse on the back of my retina? A billboard advertisement is more than a paint job. It’s broadcasting. At least with the radio I can turn the darn thing off. A billboard apologist might argue: well don’t look at them. But that doesn’t work. The thing’s designed to catch as many eyes as possible. You’ll see Dusty’s next time you drive past I71 exit 9. 

That’s why billboards are so effective. They’re unavoidable. Marketers long ago discovered that the human eye is optimized to pick out fruit and predators. Paint a picture of either’s modern equivalent and you’ll catch every eye. 

This allows billboard marketers to prey upon weak wills, weaponizing our appetites.

Hungry?
Want a Big Mac?
300 pounds?
You need a Big Mac!

And we’ll remind you on your way to work, and on your way home.

Billboards present the 101 ways your life is incomplete. Advertising like this encourages discontent and unhappiness with a constant barrage of the things we don’t have. That’s not very Christian. As St. Paul says, “Not that I am referring to being in need; for I have learned to be content with whatever I have” (Philipians 4:11). 

Consider for a moment the contrast of billboards with murals. Cincinnati is blessed to have many beautiful murals. While seemingly similar, murals and billboards are two completely distinct concepts. Murals, or more broadly speaking, public art, promotes the appreciation of beauty. Murals cause one to stop and wonder. Public art leads one towards the joys of life, and the joys of place. Take for example, Homage to Cincinnatus on Vine and Central. The work features a long flight of steps up to an altar burning with sacrifice, before which stands a burly statue of Cincinnatus, the model citizen of the Roman Republic. This work reminds us what it means to be a good citizen, to be a good man, and reminds us what living in Cincinnati is all about. Similarly, also on Vine and Central, the mural Fresh Harvest, though sponsored by Kroger, restraints itself from selling produce. Instead, the work encourages the viewer to delight in the beauty of fresh vegetables. Another work, Faces of Homelessness deals with a more serious topic. But instead of selling a solution, the art simply asks “What can you do to help families and individuals who may be struggling?” (ArtWorks). Such a work demands charitable action from its viewers.

Unlike public art, billboards promote chasing pleasures. Billboards nag at our basest desires. Billboards proudly proclaim humanity’s discontent. I want to live in a beautiful city without being sold to all the time.

Public art encourages us all to be better humans. Billboards don’t. Billboards don’t help us to be better humans. Billboards ‘help’ us buy more stuff.

It’s true that some billboards promote good things. Yes, some billboards are better than others. But selling must remain in the marketplace. A service being sold via billboard may actually make my life better. But I didn’t ask for it, so it’s just noise. It’s noise saying: “You don’t have enough. You aren’t enough.” A constant diet of marketing causes avarice and chokes the interior life. Marketing is advice to the customer. Repeated, unsolicited advice is nagging.

Take down Dusty’s billboard.
Take down 3CDC’s glowy panels.
Take them all down.

Let us rest and be still in the Lord.

Practically speaking, what do we do? “First, we need to live as Christians” (Against Politics).  Implementing good zoning laws to prohibit billboards would be difficult, at the least. Instead, “the ideal is to have a society where people use their freedom to eliminate the need for government action” (Chickens in the Yard or a Shark on the Roof?). Those of us in business must carefully examine how we treat our fellow men with our advertisements. We must be considerate with our marketing just as we must be considerate with our advice in our personal relationships. Our sales pitches must be restricted to the appropriate places and times. If we do not shop on Sunday because Sunday is a day for God, family, and leisure, then we cannot sell on Sundays either. This rule applies to all advertisements as well as billboards. In order to build a society conducive to the interior life, we must change our own ways.