Something for Nothing

I got to do one of those market research thingies the other day. They didn't pay me for it, but I'll apparently be entered in a drawing for prizes worth up to $100. Gee, thanks.

I usually like doing market research whether I'm paid for it or not, but in this case it's like they went out of their way to make it as unenjoyable and unrewarding as possible for the participants. To start with, the pilot they had me watch was one of the worst things I've ever seen on television--all about the hi-jinks that ensue when three very different dads compare notes on raising their wisecracking kindergarteners. (Rue McClanahan slums as the dictatorial schoolteacher.) B-list stand-up material forced into an utterly schematic sitcom format--this thing ain't gonna get on the air unless the network's entire fall season tanks. But you won't be watching my copy anytime soon; to protect against black market traffic in awful pilots, they loaded the tape with a special eraser. Instant trash, just like its erstwhile contents.

I expected to have to fill out and mail in a survey about interesting topics like...myself. I instead was asked to choose my favorite brands from a booklet full of products immediately before watching the show. And then to choose my favorite brands of the same products from a nearly identical booklet immediately after watching the show. Were they trying to figure out how the show altered my brand loyalties? There weren't even any commercials for anything in the booklets--I think they flatter themselves to suggest that their show had any kind of impact on my worldview.

Finally, there was the phone call. This did provide me with the catharsis of being able to tell someone that their product was lousy. Unfortunately, the guy on the other end didn't have many specific questions, other than "which character was your favorite?," which presupposes that I bothered to remember their names. He was very interested in whether I liked the NFL, though, and kept asking questions about it even though my answers were kind of clustered at one end of the scale.

(I should have expected this from the original solicitation phone call, during which the young lady on the other end of the line asked me for my city, then needed to ask for my state, then needed me to confirm its spelling: "That's 'N' as in 'nail,' 'E' as in 'ear,' 'W' as in 'water...'")

On the whole, I think that when private companies use you to mine data, they should give you something other than the pleasure of filling out forms and talking to telemarketers.