Not long ago we subscribed to the New Yorker, and as always I am struck by what seems to be a disconnect between the likely audience, advertising, and content. The content seems to be aimed at college educated, mostly middle class readers, somewhat of a leftward slant, who would be attracted to the long, thoughtfully written articles and evocative fiction. Another likely aspect of the demographic would seem to struggling young journalists, poets, and fiction writers, who likely studied creative writing or literature in college, and some of whom are likely still struggling in waiting or bartending jobs, or the like.
Then we come to the advertising, and what do we find? Private banks. Personal financial management companies that will preserve your wealth unto the sixth generation of your issue. Villas for rent in Italy and Spain. Tiffany jewelry. And I could go on. What I’m wondering is what’s really going on here. Wouldn’t the real targets of such advertising be reading other magazines most of us don’t even know about? Is the explanation, as Paul Fussell theorized in Class, that such ads are put there so that we middle class subscribers can fantasize about actually being rich enough to take a house in France for the summer? Or is it just another example of advertising generally moving upmarket? Judging by advertisements in many mass market channels, it’s fairly clear that a minute percentage of the readership/viewership is potentially interested in, for example, business class flights to London, yet most of us hear these ads every day. So they’re speaking to all of us, but really only interested in that tiny percent. In the case of the New Yorker, though, I think the advertising has always been like this.
So what are your thoughts on this>