Gillogly: Infomercials glib but put on good show

Most people hate it when they can’t sleep. I love it.

Well, sort of.

Long… Most people hate it when they can’t sleep. I love it.

Well, sort of.

Long after Letterman and Leno — ahem, Conan — have gone to bed come the prime-time television hours, at least for me. When I’m still wide-eyed in those wee hours, my eyes are still glued to the television screen. My program of choice? The infomercial.

Are you tired of resorting to late-night sitcom reruns during those pesky sleepless spells? Do you often find yourself wishing late-night television catered more to your inner insomniac? Well, I’m here to tell you about the revolutionary value of infomercials.

But what can be said about infomercials beyond the self-explanatory, portmanteau of “information” and “commercial?” On the surface, they’re just glorified commercials that follow a mendacious formula: The demonstrations aren’t real. The producers handpick the testimonials. The price is low and the deal seems sweet but … the product is ridiculous.

These were my thoughts on infomercials for a long time, and I’m sure many consumers share this distrust. Then one restless night a few years back, I turned on my TV. “Did you know you can drastically improve your reading speed and retain more of what you read with this amazing, easy to use, new innovative computer program? Call now to order!” Normally, I’d be wary, but I guess my sleep-deprived stupor took influence. I picked up the phone. I soon received the product I ordered, and turns out it worked great. As a result of this successful purchase, I had to peek the latest infomercials if I were still awake. At first I still didn’t think every product would live up to its claims despite one good purchase … at first.

But it wasn’t long until the notepad on my nightstand had a slew of 1-800 numbers etched on it. How silly I was to think infomercials were all a sham. I blamed that dubious assumption on societal upbringing. We’re raised to loathe all forms of commercials, especially lengthy ones that ultimately ask for your credit card number. Yet until that night, I never gave infomercials a chance.

Alas I knew it would be too costly to purchase every product I wrote down. To narrow my list, I read some product reviews online. There marked the abrupt end of my infatuation.

Suckers like me have fallen for the infomercial’s slick promises. But the Internet provides a safeguard, a sobering reality check. “Total Scam!” “Useless piece of junk!” and other such caustic customer reviews prevented my planned purchases. It’s not as if everyone gave that handy mini-grill I longed for a poor grade — just 80 percent of all people who bought this product. Maybe I really would’ve used it for every meal — assuming I like my omelets and brownies peppered with chipped-off Teflon flakes. Thank you, Steve187 from Arizona, for that forewarning.

Herein lies the infomercial’s perpetual flaw. Initially it seems the infomercial provides the ultimate sales format: Producers have an entire half hour to convince you to buy their glam product — forget the TV commercial’s fleeting 30-second pitch. And there’s no need for transient, subliminal messages here, just a deluge of facts, testimonials and guarantees. Heck, if an infomercial can’t convince you to buy a product, what can?

Infomercials have to put forth their utmost effort to persuade consumers. Sure infomercials rerun, but unlike the commercial, they’re not there to remind consumers every 15 minutes. Compared to the infomercial, the monotonous barrage of the TV commercial gets annoying, but the repetition provides an advantage the infomercial doesn’t have. The commercial’s recurrence makes its jingle, its catchiness and — if the producers did their job — its product unforgettable.

Yet we grow leery when we recognize that the infomercial tries too hard. The glib fanfare doesn’t persuade us. It has the opposite effect. If the product were nearly as imperative to our everyday lives as claimed, why would there be a need for such extensive persuasion? We’ve been a consumerist society for a long time. We know when it’s too good to be true … or when it’s flat-out ridiculous, but not too ridiculous to be true.

If that’s really the case why is the infomercial industry a $100 billion industry today? It seems every infomercial has the unflagging ability to enlighten viewers to something they’ve been unknowingly missing out on. We’re bound to relate to at least one of Product X’s dozens of proposed uses or find at least one appropriate scenario for its use. For example, I almost bought that mini-grill because I love making breakfast. And if it makes cooking omelets that easy, sure I’d try out it on some dinner recipes too. Despite ingrained skepticism, this newfound persuasion takes hold. Better call within the next five minutes to maximize the deal. No time for any online vetting.

But wait! There’s more!

I forgot to divulge the revolutionary value of infomercials. Well, actually there is none, although you’ll find that claim tacked on to every infomercial product. But I still enjoy watching infomercials when I can’t sleep mainly because the products are so intriguing and sometimes more comedic than those late night reruns. Once in a while, though, I see a product that has potential. I glance over at my nightstand. The notepad is still there.

E-mail Keith at kbg6@pitt.edu.