Uploaded April 2024 | Updated September 2026, 2 days ago
It's a can... of smog. A vintage can of Los Angeles smog. Today we're looking at vintage gag gifts and justifying it by pretending to talk about economics. Or at least one branch of economics--the branch that argues the loudest both for AND AGAINST today's topic: the gag gift.
This amusing, and useless, can of Los Angeles smog is the sort of thing you would take back to somebody after a vacation at Disneyland or Hollywood or someplace around LA. It says... contains hydrocarbons, nitrogen oxides, sulfer dioxide, organic oxides, aldehydes, and formaldehydes. Mmmmm. And it says "This is the smog used by famous Hollywood Stars ... made in Los Angeles... by angels. To insure freshness and purity keep container tightly sealed. Beware of Imitation! Accept none but PURE Los Angeles Smog... No pollutants or Irritants Removed.... Packed for Los Angeles Smog Corporation.
One of the tenets of capitalism is the benefit of efficient markets. For the consumer, this means that, acting in our own self-interest, we will naturally be efficient with our purchases, engaging in what we believe to be fair exchanges for our money, choosing utility over the frivilous.
So what possible claim to utility could be made by the capitalist purveyors of a can of smog? Or this? Or this?
As consumers, it is said that we know best how to spend our own money--we each know best what we want as individuals and that no one else should choose for us. For that reason, some of the purer capitalists among us take a dim view of governments choosing things for its citizens. Even if that government is making choices the public wants, and needs, and can't get any other way, like pollution standards and safety regulations. These purists still don't like government making those choices for people.
So when it comes to gift giving, such thoughts about capitalism can come into conflict. Obviously, gift giving is utterly inefficient to the capitalist mind. Becaaauuuuse by definition, gift giving almost never allocates resources to their most efficient use. Uncle Billy truly does not need another necktie at Christmas and giving him one is a waste of the material, time and labor it took to make it. Uncle Billy doesn't even want it.
And so capitalism has a problem. And yet, as capitalism does, it has a solution. And this is sort of the way it operates. Careful observers will notice that what the marketer calls "creating demand" and "filling a need" is sometimes just another way of saying "creating a problem and selling a solution." Rather like the shop owner who is paid a visit by a local thug who says, out of the side of his mouth, "it'd be a shame if something happened to that nice, pretty, new front window you've got there. You could probably use some protection." This approach to business is nothing new. Here Listerine points out a problem--in this case, bad breath. "Halitosis Makes You Unpopular," it is kind enough to point out. Doing you a favor. Even your kids can't stand to be around you, Listerine, again, is kind enough to tell you. And then it offers a solution. In this case Listerine. Surprise, surprise. There might well be more effective solutions, or a health issue involved, but you're not going to hear about them from a marketer... Yes, as insane it it seems, I have Listerine in my collection. This giant vintage bottle of the stuff. This is how it used to come. Wrapped in paper like this. And here's an even bigger one, the giant economy size full quart.
And so, back to the gift giving dilemma. What sort of solution could capitalism devise to deal with our desire to give gifts to people--a desire which is, as we have shown, the essense of inefficiency? How could the inefficient concept of gift giving be justified? Capitalism looked to a strange bedfellow for this justification. It looked... to humor. Now I said strange bedfellow because capitalism is not known for humor. In fact, it is the least funny economic system ever developed. But somehow it found its way to humor for a solution to the gift-giving dilemma, and it came up with... the gag gift.
Yes, this is a gift where the entire point is its utter uselessness. Rather than feign some value in some useless product--as advertising usually does--with the gag gift, the uselessness is celebrated. The point of the gift is not the thing itself but the experience, the JOKE--the gag--the smile or laughter or embarrassment or whatever that the receiver of the gift experiences when receiving something like, oh, this "Bedroom Mood Meter." This is the sort of item you would ALSO find while on vacation. Funny how that's so. I guess they like to come for you when your guard's down. Anyway, this you'd find in a gift shop at some entertainment attraction or in a Stuckey's or some other roadside stop along the highway. The recipient of such a thoughtful gift is supposed to hang this on their bedroom door. Then husband, wife, or whatever, can use the. . .
It's a can... of smog. A vintage can of Los Angeles smog. Today we're looking at vintage gag gifts and justifying it by pretending to talk about economics. Or at least one branch of economics--the branch that argues the loudest both for AND AGAINST today's topic: the gag gift.
This amusing, and useless, can of Los Angeles smog is the sort of thing you would take back to somebody after a vacation at Disneyland or Hollywood or someplace around LA. It says... contains hydrocarbons, nitrogen oxides, sulfer dioxide, organic oxides, aldehydes, and formaldehydes. Mmmmm. And it says "This is the smog used by famous Hollywood Stars ... made in Los Angeles... by angels. To insure freshness and purity keep container tightly sealed. Beware of Imitation! Accept none but PURE Los Angeles Smog... No pollutants or Irritants Removed.... Packed for Los Angeles Smog Corporation.
One of the tenets of capitalism is the benefit of efficient markets. For the consumer, this means that, acting in our own self-interest, we will naturally be efficient with our purchases, engaging in what we believe to be fair exchanges for our money, choosing utility over the frivilous.
So what possible claim to utility could be made by the capitalist purveyors of a can of smog? Or this? Or this?
As consumers, it is said that we know best how to spend our own money--we each know best what we want as individuals and that no one else should choose for us. For that reason, some of the purer capitalists among us take a dim view of governments choosing things for its citizens. Even if that government is making choices the public wants, and needs, and can't get any other way, like pollution standards and safety regulations. These purists still don't like government making those choices for people.
So when it comes to gift giving, such thoughts about capitalism can come into conflict. Obviously, gift giving is utterly inefficient to the capitalist mind. Becaaauuuuse by definition, gift giving almost never allocates resources to their most efficient use. Uncle Billy truly does not need another necktie at Christmas and giving him one is a waste of the material, time and labor it took to make it. Uncle Billy doesn't even want it.
And so capitalism has a problem. And yet, as capitalism does, it has a solution. And this is sort of the way it operates. Careful observers will notice that what the marketer calls "creating demand" and "filling a need" is sometimes just another way of saying "creating a problem and selling a solution." Rather like the shop owner who is paid a visit by a local thug who says, out of the side of his mouth, "it'd be a shame if something happened to that nice, pretty, new front window you've got there. You could probably use some protection." This approach to business is nothing new. Here Listerine points out a problem--in this case, bad breath. "Halitosis Makes You Unpopular," it is kind enough to point out. Doing you a favor. Even your kids can't stand to be around you, Listerine, again, is kind enough to tell you. And then it offers a solution. In this case Listerine. Surprise, surprise. There might well be more effective solutions, or a health issue involved, but you're not going to hear about them from a marketer... Yes, as insane it it seems, I have Listerine in my collection. This giant vintage bottle of the stuff. This is how it used to come. Wrapped in paper like this. And here's an even bigger one, the giant economy size full quart.
And so, back to the gift giving dilemma. What sort of solution could capitalism devise to deal with our desire to give gifts to people--a desire which is, as we have shown, the essense of inefficiency? How could the inefficient concept of gift giving be justified? Capitalism looked to a strange bedfellow for this justification. It looked... to humor. Now I said strange bedfellow because capitalism is not known for humor. In fact, it is the least funny economic system ever developed. But somehow it found its way to humor for a solution to the gift-giving dilemma, and it came up with... the gag gift.
Yes, this is a gift where the entire point is its utter uselessness. Rather than feign some value in some useless product--as advertising usually does--with the gag gift, the uselessness is celebrated. The point of the gift is not the thing itself but the experience, the JOKE--the gag--the smile or laughter or embarrassment or whatever that the receiver of the gift experiences when receiving something like, oh, this "Bedroom Mood Meter." This is the sort of item you would ALSO find while on vacation. Funny how that's so. I guess they like to come for you when your guard's down. Anyway, this you'd find in a gift shop at some entertainment attraction or in a Stuckey's or some other roadside stop along the highway. The recipient of such a thoughtful gift is supposed to hang this on their bedroom door. Then husband, wife, or whatever, can use the. . .
