WORLD: The Truth about McDonald's and Children

Publisher Name: 
Independent






Every waking moment of our lives, we swim in an ocean of advertising,
all of it telling us the same thing: consume, consume. And then consume
some more. The epidemic of overconsumption begins with the things we
put in our mouths. The United States is the fattest nation on earth.
Sixty-five per cent of American adults are overweight; 30 per cent are
obese. In the decade between 1991 and 2001, obesity figures almost
doubled.

But the
truly shocking thing is that we've taught our kids how to be fat, too.
Obesity rates in American children remained stable throughout the
1960s, but they began to climb in the 1970s. In the past 20 years, the
rate of obesity has doubled in children and trebled in teenagers. Kids
are starting to clock in as obese as early as the age of two. If we
find that surprising, we shouldn't.

During
the McMonth I endured for Super Size Me, in which I ate every meal at
McDonald's, every day - taking up the option to have a Supersize
portion whenever I was offered it - I couldn't get over how many kids
there were in the restaurants almost any time that I walked in.
Children with their parents. Gaggles of them stopping off for breakfast
or for a pre-dinner snack in their cute little school uniforms. Kids in
all the play areas. Kids as little as three and four having Happy Meal
McBirthday parties. Or, in a McDonald's in Houston, at 9am, a mother
with her two very overweight kids who, having just finished their
fat-filled breakfasts, were now eating hot fudge sundaes.

Ray
Kroc, the man behind the McDonald's empire, understood from Day McOne
that youngsters were his target market. He had no sooner bought the
company from the McDonald brothers than Ronald McDonald was brought in
to attract the kiddies to the burgers and shakes.

The
first Ronald was the TV weatherman Willard Scott in his younger, but
apparently not leaner, days. Scott had been doing Bozo the Clown on
local television. When the show was canceled, an enterprising
McDonald's franchisee asked him to come up with a clown figure that
would lure the kids into the restaurant. Kroc saw it, liked it and
extended the idea to the whole country.

But
first he canned Scott. Kroc understood the negative publicity
implications of an icon who looks as though he's been eating too much
of the company's food. To this day you'll never see Ronald McDonald
eating the food; not in any commercial. He dances and sings, grins and
giggles, and smiles at the kids while they stuff their faces, but he
never touches the grub. Why? Presumably because, as the late Eazy-E
said in the song "The Dopeman": "Don't get high off your own supply."

Kroc
also understood the value of promoting McDonald's as a caring,
family-friendly sort of place, a place with a heart, not heart disease.
Early on, he began linking McDonald's with various children's
charities. One executive told John F Love, author of McDonald's: Behind
the Arches: "It was an inexpensive, imaginative way of getting your
name before the public and building a reputation to offset the image of
selling 15-cent hamburgers. It was probably 99 per cent commercial."

Thus
the Ronald McDonald House Charities were born. They have now provided
housing (and McMeals) for the families of more than two million
seriously ill children. Never mind the fact that today an increasing
number of children are going into hospital because of eating-related
illnesses.

Talking
of which, one of the most shocking things I saw during my McMonth was a
McDonald's in Texas Children's Hospital - a hospital that is now
stapling obese children's stomachs. To me, that seemed utterly
irresponsible, a flagrant violation of the doctor's pledge of "Primum
non nocere" (First, do no harm). In fact, hospitals across the US have
fast-food franchises in them. The top-ranked pediatric hospital in the
country, Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, has a McDonald's outlet.
Why shouldn't there be one in Houston?

Recently,
a combination of good information and bad publicity has encouraged some
hospitals to reconsider their food-service contracts. But Ronald won't
always leave without a fight. The Cleveland Clinic, for example, wants
to rid America's leading heart hospital of its McDonald's. But
according to the Cleveland Plain Dealer of 22 November last year, the
clinic's chief executive, Dr Toby Cosgrove, received a letter from a
McDonald's corporate vice-president called Marty Ranft, which "defended
the franchise, and vowed ... that 'McDonald's has no intention of
terminating' the remaining 10 years on its lease".

The
doctors at Texas Children's Hospital told me they had young patients
who were dying of cancer, and it was hard to get them to eat anything.
At least these poor kids would eat some fries, take a bite of a burger:
food they were familiar with. It was junk that they had been eating all
their lives.

But
it's not enough to get young people to come to your restaurants; you
have to get them to keep on coming back. McDonald's operates something
like 8,000 Playlands around America. They're especially attractive to
children in neighborhoods in which playgrounds are scarce. Burger King
has about 3,200 of its own. Then there's the Happy Meal, launched in
the US in 1979. It cost a buck in those days. Inside a cardboard box
with a circus theme, children found a McDoodler stencil, a puzzle book,
a McWrist wallet, an ID bracelet and McDonaldland character erasers.

The
meal-plus-toys packaging proved to be an instant hit, with the first
Star Trek Happy Meals that very year. Soon, toy versions of all your
favorite McDonald's mascots were included: Ronald, Grimace, Hamburglar,
Mayor McCheese, Big Mac, Birdie and Captain Crook. Later, toys would be
themed for tie-ins with brands and films such as Barbie, Hot Wheels,
The Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo and so on. By 2003, Happy Meals
accounted for about 20 per cent of all meals sold (about $3.5bn in
annual revenue).

And
let's not forget the Mighty Kids Meal, introduced in America in 2001.
McDonald's realized that by the time kids were eight or nine years old
they felt they had outgrown the Happy Meal. Those were for little boys
and girls. So the Mighty Kids Meal comes in a slightly more "grown-up"
package. It offers bigger meals: a double cheeseburger, double
hamburger or a six-piece chicken McNuggets, but still comes with a toy.
We may be older, but we still like toys.

In
2004, McDonald's celebrated the 25th anniversary of the Happy Meal with
a year-long barrage of promotions and advertisements. The company also
launched a version for adults, the Go Active! Adult Happy Meal. This
included a salad, a bottle of water, a book that told you how to
exercise, and an adult "toy": a Stepometer, so you could measure how
few steps it was from the counter to your car.

Good
old Ronald. Under his smiling, caring guidance, an entire generation of
overweight American adults who grew up following him into their local
McDonald's are now raising their own overweight children to follow in
their heavy footsteps.

Recently,
the magazine Advertising Age cited Ronald McDonald as No 2 on its list
of top 10 advertising icons of the 20th century. Who was No 1? It was
the Marlboro Man.

* * *

Adults
bear an enormous responsibility for the obesity epidemic among
children. Yet there's also no question that even conscientious parents
and guardians, who really do try to do well by kids and teach them
healthy life choices, are not playing on anything like a level field.
They're going up against billions and billions of dollars spent every
year in corporate marketing, all aimed at teaching kids to make exactly
the opposite sorts of choices.

McDonald's
and the other fast-food chains make no secret of the fact that kids are
their primary targets. "We have living proof of the long-lasting
quality of early brand loyalties in the cradle-to-grave marketing at
McDonald's, and how well it works," James McNeal, a well-known
children's marketing guru and the author of Kids As Customers, has
said. "We start taking children in for their first and second
birthdays, and on and on, and eventually they have a great deal of
preference for that brand. Children can carry that with them through a
lifetime."

Today,
corporations spend more than $15bn every year on marketing, advertising
and promotions meant to program American children to consume, consume
and consume some more. Why? Because they realize that children not only
have more expendable income of their own, but they influence how their
parents spend their hard-earned bucks, too - to the tune of more than
$600bn a year. What do children choose to buy with all that cash? What
do you think?

Nor
is it just their current expenditure that corporations want a slice of:
they're looking at the long term. Brand logos for all sorts of crap now
turn up on nursery blankets, crib toys and mobiles. In my office, I
have a collection of baby bottles shaped like little bottles of 7 Up,
DR Pepper and Pepsi. I found them on eBay. When we contacted the
California manufacturer, Munchkin Bottling, they told us they had
produced these things for a few years in the mid-1990s. They'd
developed the concept themselves, then licensed the various drinks
companies' names and logos. Think about the associations formed in
infants' minds by these things. Think about the mentality that sees
nothing wrong in marketing them.

Not
to be outdone, McDonald's marketing genius M Lawrence Light - the guy
who rolled out the "I'm lovin' it" campaign - wants to surround the
youth of the world with McDonald's brand images. "Light wants to turn
everything he can into an ad for McDonald's," wrote Business Week
magazine in July 2004. "He's pushing the Oak Brook chain to open
clothing shops so kids will walk around in T-shirts with the Golden
Arches logo, just as they already do with Old Navy or Disney. He
envisions a deal with the National Basketball Association to play the
five-note tagline of the 'I'm lovin' it' ad in the stadium every time a
player shoots a three-pointer. He's even toying with making the jingle
available over the internet so it could be downloaded as a mobile phone
ring tone."

Light
chose China as the market in which to open the first McKids store.
"There will be 25 McKids stores there," he told Business Week. "It's
got a line of toys, a line of clothes, a line of videos, all directed
at young kids." Why China? Because after years of communist rule, these
children can't get enough American products. A company like McDonald's
can easily swoop in and corrupt young consumers from the start.

This is adapted from 'Don't Eat This Book', by Morgan Spurlock..

AMP Section Name:Food and Agriculture
  • 182 Health