Do we have social responsibility with artistically designed products?

The artistic struggle is legitimate, the tug-of-war between provocative and shocking and sensitivity and social responsibility. Should brands profit from products that tap into modern cultural crises in the spirit of being ironic, witty or sardonic? Do they cross the line in pursuit of buzz and a buck or do they exhibit restraint and respect for the sake of humanity?

On the heels of Balenciaga's campaign featuring child models selling bondage bags then, separately, their photograph with the Adidas collaboration, propped with court documents discussing child pornography as part of the background, today's designer brands need to be aware of their social impact. Now enter another egregious decision from a brand known for impeccable taste, craftsmanship, and elevated, iconic design: Jonathan Adler.

I respect Adler, his story, his work and his aesthetic. And, as a creative director, I have the utmost respect for artistic license. However, where is the ambassadorial role of social responsibility? Where is the adult in the room that counterbalances the hare-brained “oh, wouldn’t this be so funny," particularly when a product idea glamorizes a scarily serious societal issue like addiction. In this case, the Adler brand overstepped and marched right past his impeccable, discerning taste to focus on hype and profit from the misery and misfortune of others.

To be fair, perhaps I have overlooked the humor in this product. Maybe I missed the Gen Z irony. In my email today was my newsletter from Guest of a Guest, touting the 10 best gift ideas for your “rich friend who has everything." Clicking to the blog post, I discovered a product wholly insensitive to those struggling with mental health conditions and addiction. So no. Upon looking at this "best gift item," I question the message this gift sends.

To be fair, perhaps I am too sensitive. After all, I lost my brother Joel less than nine months ago. He was overprescribed a cocktail of addictive medications, many of which should not have been mixed, some depicted on these must-have "gifts." Many were addictive; one of them was Xanax. Joel took them recreationally, like we take Vitamin C preventatively. He would call his “shrink” to demand refills and she obliged for years - years! Never assessing him for addiction. When his psychiatrist finally retired in January, a new doctor was assigned. This doctor flat-out refused refills for Joel. This new doctor reprimanded Joel in a tele-health session, but never bothered with strategies to detox or re-assess all the mediations his predecessor had prescribed. In fact, this doctor suggested a few more. Joel had been hoarding several of his drugs. Within three months, Joel was dead.

 Discovering all of this in his medical records after his passing in March made me furious, sad, upset, heartbroken and betrayed by a system that’s supposed to cause no harm.

So, please forgive me while I shake my head at the cheeky commercialization of serious pharmaceuticals. And forgive me my sidebar rant about these drugs themselves. Fear, sadness, and hurt have been relegated to the time-out chair. They've become bad emotions. Culturally, we are trying very hard to expunge them. Yet, as humans, we were made to experience the full range, and sometimes uncomfortable range, of emotions. We need to live in sadness, grief and hurt. We need to feel fear and anger. Unpleasant emotions are not intended to be treated like a small wound, covered with a Bandaid. They are raw for real reasons. We need to feel them to process them. While I wish we could culturally embrace methods like meditation, getting out in nature, being active, donating our time to others, eating better for improved gut health and plain old-fashioned talking to a therapist, these strategies take time and commitment. And we are all tired and some of us are allergic to doing the hard work. So, a fast, easy remedy is highly appealing. I get it. I also concede that occasionally, under close monitoring, we need pharmaceutical support. However, in my brother’s case, I did not see supervision by his psychiatrist or his family physician. No one audited his daily cocktail combined with his ritual nightly cocktail. And he died alone in his apartment on the night of March 17, 2022, St. Patrick’s Day. We're Irish so it was fitting.

 On Jonathan Adler's website, the copywriter pitched these gifts as: "A Dose of Style. We've taken our longtime love of pharmaceuticals to a new level of luxe: cast in solid brass, our hinged pill boxes are just what the decorator ordered—a dose of glamour in warm hand-polished brass or a pop of jewel-like sparkle in shining silver plating. Each box top is laser-etched with an mg prescription. The perfect provocative touch for your tablescape or hip hideaway on your bedside table.” How charmingly witty. And so off-brand for Adler, who started a career making pottery and bloomed into a design icon with a fabulous appeal.

Let me reinforce and without debate, I believe that Jonathan Adler has the right to artistic freedom. When do we, as marketers, creatives, designers draw the line and show restraint? For me, it was labeling the medications with suggested dosages, drugs with known addictive, tragic and deadly consequences. That crossed the line.

I have décor pieces designed by Adler. His work has been exquisite. But even for the most savvy of brands, social responsibility needs to be part of decisions. Making light of, and profiting from, addictive substances that can seriously harm humans seems like a wise and thoughtful consideration when weighing “should we or should we not.”