Nike’s promotional campaign for Kobe Bryant’s new shoe features an ad in which the NBA All-Star speaks with a Nike engineer about the design of the product. The two men reveal a rapport. As Kobe tells the engineer, it was easy for them to communicate — player and designer. This, he says, is “because you get it, you know what I mean. There’s a lot of things we share, that we enjoy, whether it’s programs we watch on TV, or movies or whatever, yeah, we got the same things in common, so we speak the same language.”
How perceptive he is. Although Shaq christened himself the “Big Aristotle,” Kobe has been the one to take on the reflective, philosophical outlook of his Zen practicing coach, Phil Jackson.
In the quotation above, Bryant captures a point articulated by none less than Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek. Žižek argues that we are not, in the West, living in a post-ideological era. Rather, ideology permeates our lives, perhaps more than ever before. For Žižek, ideology can be found in Starbucks, toilets, and Kung Fu Panda. The role of ideology is that of the “unknown known.” Ideology is that which we do not know that we know.
For example, consider the act of offering an invitation only on the basis that you expect it to be refused. Here is ideology. The invitation is a social tactic, a maneuver of politeness, and it works successfully only if both parties understand but do not admit that it is meant to be refused. Most people most of the time will engage in this sort of invitation without second thought. You know your role. Yet you’ve never been taught it. You might not even reflect on the invitation’s irony. You can play the game without knowing the rules, because, on another level, you do know the rules. This second level — the unknown known — is the level of ideology. These are shared meanings that allow us to make sense of the world.
Ideology is the kind of thing that — borrowing from Bryant — can be found in “TV, or movies, or whatever.” In a sense, it’s that “same language.” Films, advertisements, stories, and so forth — these make sense to us because we are collectively “in” the underlying ideology.
That said, how we can begin to make sense of how we make sense of Kobe Bryant’s latest commercials? The “Black Mamba,” as he is known to fans, has released with Nike an ad campaign promoting his newest shoe — a campaign which is nothing if not bizarre.
The campaign features no fewer than 23 spots, and it features what is undoubtedly the most star-studded cast to ever promote an item of footwear. In the ads, Kobe plays the stereotypical role of the ultra-confident, ridiculously-successful sports star. Yet he also plays philosopher and a motivational speaker. He appears as nothing less than a superhero in a six-minute film directed by Robert Rodriguez featuring Danny Trejo, Bruce Willis, and Kanye West. The ads feature a cartoon of the dinosaur extinction, and they include a call to dominate the galaxy. Perhaps most conspicuous is the absence of the actual product, i.e., the shoes barely appear in the spots. In fact, the shoes are not even shoes! Rather, they are a system, specifically, the Kobe system. Bewildered? Join Jerry Rice.
In many ways, Kobe’s ads are ridiculous. Yet it is undeniable they make sense on a certain level. Could it be the level of ideology? Can we make sense of the Kobe system? Here, I volunteer two theses:
Thesis 1: The Superlative Success Doctrine
The Kobe system is for those who are already successful, thus the setting of the commercial. Kobe lectures to a remarkably accomplished audience: Kanye West, Serena Williams, Jerry Rice, Aziz Ansari, and so forth. These are individuals already at the top of their game. Why do they need the Kobe system? Because the Kobe system is about achieving more success, or as Kobe puts it, success at success. This is the superlative success doctrine.
Consider the exchange between Kanye West and Bryant:
Kanye: “How much more do you want from me?”
Kobe: “More.”
Kanye: “How much more successful do you want me to be?”
Kobe: “More successful.”
Kanye: “How many records can my records break?”
Kobe: “More records.”
Kanye: “But I’m the best.”
Kobe: “But are you a different animal, and the same beast?”
Kanye: “What the f*** does that mean, Kobe Bryant?”
Kobe: “You’re welcome.”
Kanye [turning to others in exasperation]: “What the f*** is he talking about?”
Here, Kobe reveals the essence of the Kobe system: namely, never settling. In Kanye speak, think “Ni**as in Paris,” not “So Appalled.” (Note: If, like Kanye, you don’t understand everything Kobe says, don’t worry. You aren’t alone.)
Perhaps the most dramatic example of the superlative success doctrine is that of Richard Branson, billionaire English business tycoon. Branson tells Bryant he has been to the bottom of the ocean, and he has successfully traveled into outer space. He feels as if he has already achieved success at success.
Surprisingly, Bryant concedes Branson has in fact achieved success at success. “But,” he asks, “have you achieved success at success at success?”
Branson [dropping his eyes in shame]: “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry Kobe Bryant.”
Bryant: “You can do better. I know you can. Good luck to you, Richard Branson. Make me proud.”
It turns out that even success at success is not good enough for Bryant. The only acceptable outcome is “more success.”
Here we encounter what is perhaps the ad campaign’s overriding ideological current: a notion of success that knows no limits. Ultimately, this sort of success cannot be about achievement, but rather must be about the act of achieving itself. “Attack fast and strong,” reads the tag line.
Kobe’s success doctrine should not be confused with innocuous sentiments such as “always do your best,” “demand the best from yourself,” etc. The thrust of the commercial is not this sort of well-intentioned exhortation, such as might be made by parents, little league coaches, or motivational speakers.
Here is the key distinction: the Kobe system is not an inspiration to success but a glorification of it. Kobe does not preach the same gospel as Tony Robbins.
However, the real problem is that Kobe’s gospel is not really Kobe’s. Rather, the superlative success doctrine is a reflection of today’s ideology, ideology especially manifested in the USA, especially at the “top.”
The most timely and obvious reference is to the seemingly limitless greed of those overseeing high business and finance — avarice that has come under the spotlight since 2008. By multiple measures, the wealthiest have made killer gains since the 1970s, while the fortunes of the “99 percent” have more or less frozen in place. (Note this stagnation has occurred in spite of increases in productivity and working hours, especially for women).
What is remarkable is not necessarily that the wealthy have done so well, but rather that they have done so well and — with notable exceptions — they still want more. Whether it’s simply opposition to paying higher taxes or cocaine and prostitution, the most accomplished among us are seemingly addicted to the thrills of “more success.” Like Wang Leehom, being “nothing more than a multi-talented Chinese megastar” does not make the cut. If you do stand-up, then do it in a volcano. NFL receiver? Make a no-handed catch. Rapper? Go higher than the top-of-the-charts. Retired? Then dominate retirement. Bought an airline? Buy a planet.
The fantastic feats of Bryant’s disciples find their real-world counterparts with Wall Street elites. Check this quote by Charles Ferguson, director of Inside Job:
The private elevator, the private planes, the gigantic estates — the ways in which Wall Street had become disconnected from the things that would normally give them some kind of reality check. They became very disconnected from anything that would give them feedback saying you’re going too far, this is too dangerous, this is wrong. They didn’t have any of that.
The 1 percent play by the Kobe system.
Thesis 2: The Power of Confession
Kobe: “So, is there gonna be a lotta close-ups on the shoes?”
Robert Rodriguez: “Product placement gives us a bigger budget. Bigger budget, bigger explosions.”
(From Kobe Bryant is “The Black Mamba,” directed by Robert Rodriguez)
Perhaps the most striking feature of Kobe’s commercials is that almost none of them are about his shoes. Out of at least 23 ads, only three focus on the actual product. The majority feature Kobe or one of his celebrity disciples praising the virtues of the Kobe system.
The upshot is this: By so blatantly abandoning the product in the spots, the advertising campaign reveals itself as precisely that — an advertising campaign. The disappearance of the shoes is a wink to the viewer. The message is this: “Look at me, I’m a commercial, I’m spouting ridiculous rhetoric, don’t take me seriously.” What is interesting is that the function of this confession is the opposite of its suggestion. In other words, the commercial which confesses itself as a commercial — indeed even mocks itself as a commercial — sells shoes nonetheless.
This is where we are with capitalism in 2012. Before the markets crashed, capitalism had been a bad word. Talking about capitalism anywhere but the classroom was bad taste or Marxist. The W. administration didn’t like the word capitalism. Instead, they talked about democracy and freedom and liberty. If they had to say anything, they preferred to say “market.” For example, see this table I constructed by word-searching the transcripts of all eight of W.’s State of the Union addresses.
Number of times certain words appear in W.’s State of the Union addresses:
Free/freedom: 148
Liberty: 27
Democracy: 17
Market/s: 17
Capitalism: 0
Note that the word “capitalism” was not used once by W. in any State of the Union address during his eight years in office.
Of course, Obama has not used the word “capitalism” in any of his addresses either. (This seems surprising given Obama’s oversight of a financial crisis.) Nonetheless, we have witnessed a gradual lifting of the ban on the “c-word” in public discourse.
A Google news search for “capitalism” between January 2004 and January 2008 yields 15,800 results. The same search run for January 2008 to January 2012 yields 32,100 results. That’s a substantial increase in popularity for the big C.
In large part, it was the financial crisis itself that brought capitalism out of its hiding place (see “plain sight”). When folks lose their houses, they begin to look around, ask questions, and point fingers. Next thing you know, they’re talking about “class warfare.”
However, the new discourse on capitalism must also be attributed to the hard work of activists. For instance, the Occupy movement — though diverse — has been characterized by certain authorities of delimitation as opposed to “capitalism.” Michael Moore must also take credit here. His Capitalism: A Love Story called Rumpelstiltskin by his name, as it were. (It’s interesting to note that Moore reverses W.’s propaganda move: W. uses the term “democracy” as a substitute for “capitalism,” while Moore uses the term “democracy” as a substitute for “socialism,” at least if the latter is understood as worker control of the means of production.)
It seems capitalism has been rediscovered.
Unfortunately, the exposure of capitalism is having the same significance as the exposure of the Kobe system: In both cases, they’re still selling shoes. Indeed, it seems at times as if the capitalism discourse is backfiring, feeding the fires for those who would speak of class warfare and conspiring socialists.
Meanwhile, the march goes on. Later this year, the masters of the universe will be rolling into Chicago under the protection of an Emmanuel crackdown to plan the future of Western “markets.”
Will a novelty emerge? Unlikely. The best we can hope for? Look to the Kobe system:
Different animal. Same beast.