Pro-Gay Marriage Ads Outclass the Opposition in Maine

In Maine – where they're voting Tuesday on a ballot initiative that will determine the future of same-sex marriage – something stunning has happened.

I just spent some time watching the commercials that are hogging the airwaves, and guess what? It's the advocates of gay marriage, those who want to leave the current law firmly in place, who are the media maestros. And it's the conservatives who haven't found their messaging groove.

The media debate centers around this stark ballot language: "Do you want to reject the new law that lets same-sex couples marry and allows individuals and religious groups to refuse to perform these marriages?"

With California voters having rejected the right of gay couples to legally marry last year, the national focus has shifted to Maine -- a state that while not known for pushing the progressive envelope, has a fiery streak of independence. Based on earlier legislative approval, Maine had originally planned to permit same-sex marriage this past September. But officials decided to hold off pending the results of this referendum. And since Maine is the only state voting on the issue this November, it's the New England equivalent of relentless Sunni vs. Shia combat. Local TV stations are making a mint, and special interest groups are keeping the state's hotel industry booming.

"It's a defining moment," Marc Mutty, chairman of Stand for Marriage Maine, which is leading the repeal effort, told the New York Times. "What happens here in Maine is going to have a mushrooming effect on the issue at large." And what happens in Maine might very well be a victory for the same-sex marriage crowd.

And that would be quite a reversal. For years, liberals have flagellated themselves for being unable to cast their story in the right narrative frame. For failing to make the magical emotional connections. For not using the kinds of metaphors that tap into the neural networks that are rich in positive associations.

The semanticist George Lakoff, who wrote "Don't Think of an Elephant," and the neuroscientist Drew Westen, author of "The Political Brain," have skewered the Democrats for letting Republicans own the syntax with language such as "pro-life" and "death tax" and "Morning in America."

But in Maine, the proponents of same-sex marriage seem to have been listening to the message mavens. Their advertising is neurologically canny. To start with, the commercials are sponsored by an organization called "ProtectMaineEquality.org." Those are three coruscating words that trigger a wave of positive emotions. Absent entirely: "gay" or "same sex."

Appealing to independent qualities is smart. This is a state where Ross Perot finished second to President Clinton in 1992, even though the Bushes had historically summered at Kennebunkport. And Maine has had two recent indie governors: James Longley from 1975-1979 and Angus King from 1995-2003.

The theater and content of the spots are perfectly pitched to Maine's unruly spirit. The language pays homage to the state's live-and-let-live ethic. As a Maine friend wrote in an email, "The vibe I get is that they don't much like gays up here, but they'd fight to the death for your right to be one."

The advertising is emotional, too. My friend wrote that the commercials "Made me weepy, in a good way." She also noted that "Mainers have a strong pride of place . . . commercials for everything from coffee shops to politicians use that."

It's true. The same-sex spots constantly talk about "The Maine Way."

Conversely, the commercials opposing gay marriage are generic; there's nothing rooted in the Maine culture. They feel like histrionic imports trying to sell something, and peddle it with a harsh rhetorical bite.

Below, a sample of what's filling the airwaves in Maine, with some attendant analysis.



"Together" (60 seconds)
We open on a dramatic overhead shot of a lighthouse on a rocky promontory. Instantly, an iconic Maine image grabs your brain. Is this a spot for Maine tourism, or what?

We hear an aural montage of Maine voices that wrap us in comfort and security as they share a folkloric truth:

"Something happens when you cross the border into the state. It's not that the water changes. Or the mountains. There's just something about Maine that makes it different. It's the people."

The spots aren't selling a point of view -- they're reinforcing Maine's self-image. It's the state as a secular religion – De Tocqueville meets John Wayne – a catechism that's embodied in the repetition of the phrase "Maine ways."

As the spot continues, locals describe what Maine means with a liturgical rhythm:

"Whether you're born here
Or move here,
It gets into your blood.
It's how you're brought up.
You know in Maine, we don't tell anyone how to live."

If you don't live there, you're ready to move.

Lakoff would be proud. Born. Blood. Brought up. A torrent of alliterative metaphors and imprints. Then, as the spot continues , we see a montage of families, the Britt Family, the Davies Guerette Family.

At some point, it hits us that some of them are gay. It's a clever technique. The message creeps up on you. The spot normalizes gay marriage without hammering it home.

And the arc of the message is a psychological work of art. After reinforcing viewers' own values, the commercial seduces viewers into saying to themselves, 'Hey, these families all look the same.'"

Finally, the spot moves in for the Big Sell. It takes the bold step of using the collective "we." And it pre-empts the "family values" syntax of the right, making gay marriage an inevitable conclusion of everything Maine believes in:

"We know the best way to protect and raise kids is in a loving a committed family. We don't make one set of rules of some, and another set for others. That's why everyone should he allowed to marry the person they love. Here in Maine, together, we can protect equality."

It's as convincing as you can get in early 21^st Century America.



"All Families" (30 seconds)
This series of vignettes tap into that same defiantly independent streak.

We open on a chubby, conservative-looking guy in a jacket and tie, who speaks into the camera with Jeffersonian simpliclity:

"Everyone should be allowed to live the way they want to live."
We cut to two macho-looking guys in front of a macho-looking tractor, and they say: "What's wrong with making marriage equal between all Maine people?"

Then a fireman asserts: "It's not anybody's business to interfere with personal decisions."

And then an announcer wraps it all up: "Whatever you believe, is it really fair to stand in the way of someone's happiness? You may disagree, but people have a right to live how they want to live."

It's the perfect grace note.



"Sam Putnam" (30 seconds)
This spot brings the issue down to one adolescent boy. One sharp, unvarnished story.

It opens with Sam, flanked by two women, saying "I'm Sam Putnam. I have two moms. We are an average family."

The juxtaposition of the two phrases is a kind of cold brain shower.
One of the moms looks at the camera: "We are just like a lot other families in Maine -- we have our ups and downs, we stick together and we love each other."

Sam makes the final plea -- a child's appeal to grown-ups: "We can't be seen as lesser, and if you vote 'no,' it will help change that."

And now a look at the commercials on the other side:



"Safe Schools" (30 seconds)
A public school counselor from Portland, Dan Mendel, sits in a classroom next to a video screen, and speaks to the camera:

"Opponents of Question 1 say that homosexual marriage would only come up in schools so that students would feel safe. But California's curriculum shows what really happens."

A couple of things are happening here. Note that they don't call it gay marriage or same-sex marriage. They call it "homosexual marriage," which focus groups must have found is scarier, in its bluntness, to most voters.

They also invoke the evil (and now broke) state of California, the homeland of all radical and perverse values.

Then the spot cuts to a National Public Radio interview with the author of a book called "Who's In A Family?":

"The author of the book for first graders says the whole purpose of the book is to get the subject out into the minds and awareness of children before they are old enough to be convinced there is another way of looking at life."

It's a clear and effective attempt to activate the subterranean notion that gays have an evangelizing agenda.

The spot ends with Mendel intoning: "Prevent homosexual marriage from being pushed on Maine students."



"What is Gay Sex?" (30 seconds)
Here's another attempt to tap into the deep-rooted anxiety about a gay agenda; it's an effective presentation because it lets yet another National Public Radio perform the self-incriminatory work.

The spot opens on a schoolteacher who ominously reminds us that "Massachusetts schools teach about gay marriage." (Massachusetts and California are bi-coastal Sodom and Gomorrahs.)

Next, the NPR interview clearly states: "Already, some gay advocates are working on a gay-friendly curriculum for kindergarten and up."

Quoting a teacher, the NPR reporter then continues: "She says the debate around gay marriage is prompting kids to ask a lot more questions, like what is gay sex, which she answers thoroughly and explicitly."

Synching up with "explicitly," the biological sign for men appears, with check marks strategically placed next to "kissing" and "hugging."

Let Maine imaginations wander.



"What Is a Family?" (30 seconds)
This might be the starkest, line-in-the-sand spot of all. Pastor Ken Graves, wearing a flannel shirt, rumbles the message in no-nonsense terms: "So what is a family? Well, I think that has been settled for us many centuries before we came along."

We cut a happy, bouncy family and he continues to rumble: "It's a father and a mother and children."

Then, a kind of brilliant stroke appears: we cut to mommy and daddy duck, and ducklings, swimming away in a river. The pastor wryly notes: "Even nature knows what family is. But all of a sudden our state government has determined that it's something else. I encourage you to vote yes on Question 1, to preserve marriage."

The spot ends abruptly – no superimposed message, no sponsoring group -- and it's pretty powerful in its spareness.

So having deconstructed the advertising, and with the election at hand, where do things stand? Nate Silver at fivethirtyeight.com says: "Time to play oddsmaker. I'd lay about 3 to 1 against the marriage ban passing. But it's liable to fairly close -- clearly a winnable campaign for conservatives and a losable one for liberals . . . "

Overall -- although the gap has closed -- most polls show that most Americans are still opposed to gay marriage. So if Silver's handicapping is right, and the ban loses in Maine, I'd say that the advertising had a lot to do with it.

Could it be that progressives have finally cracked the code on this classic wedge issue?

If so, maybe the expression with its own Wikipedia entry -- So goes Maine, so goes the nation -- might live again.