Advertising is an environmental striptease for a world of

Hear the words of Marshall McLuhan, prophet of media and interpreter of the modern age, who declared: “Advertising is an environmental striptease for a world of abundance.” At first, the saying startles the ear, clothed in paradox and metaphor. Yet within it lies a sharp truth, a teaching about desire, temptation, and the strange condition of modern civilization—that when material goods are plentiful, persuasion becomes not a means of survival, but a spectacle of seduction.

He speaks of advertising as an environmental striptease, a performance that reveals and conceals, designed not to clothe the mind with wisdom, but to entice it into longing. In an age of scarcity, men strive simply to meet their needs; but in an age of abundance, when food fills the markets, clothes overflow the shelves, and luxuries multiply, the challenge is not survival but seduction. Advertising becomes the art of stirring desire where none is necessary, of making the ordinary appear extraordinary, of turning excess into necessity.

Consider the Roman Empire in its days of plenty. Grain ships filled the harbors, amphitheaters entertained the masses, fountains overflowed with water brought from distant mountains. Yet the emperors, fearing idleness and unrest, showered the people with bread and circuses, endless spectacles that dazzled the eye and stirred craving for more. These were not born of need but of strategy, a way to direct attention, to shape desire, to rule not only the body but the imagination. McLuhan’s metaphor echoes this ancient pattern: the striptease is not to clothe but to unveil, not to fulfill but to inflame.

The environmental aspect of his words is also crucial. He does not mean only the marketplace but the entire atmosphere in which modern people live. Advertising saturates the air, the streets, the radio, the screens—it becomes the very climate of thought. Just as the desert shapes those who dwell in it, so too does this environment of persuasion shape minds and hearts. It whispers constantly: “You do not have enough. You are not complete. What you need is more.” Thus abundance is transformed into hunger, and plenty into dissatisfaction.

The emotional heart of McLuhan’s statement is both irony and lament. For he sees that what should bring peace—the plenty of modern abundance—becomes instead the seed of anxiety. The striptease of advertising is endless; it unveils promise after promise, yet never delivers satisfaction. Each new revelation gives birth to another desire, keeping the people restless, distracted, and pliant. It is a cycle of longing without fulfillment, a seduction without consummation.

The lesson, O seeker, is this: be not deceived by the endless unveiling of abundance. Recognize the performance for what it is—a spectacle designed to stir your desire, not to satisfy it. True contentment cannot be purchased in the marketplace, nor discovered in the endless parade of goods. It is found in sufficiency, in gratitude, in the quiet knowledge that enough is truly enough.

What then shall you do? First, cultivate discernment: when faced with the seduction of advertising, ask yourself whether the desire arises from need or from manipulation. Second, practice restraint: resist the constant call to consume, and seek instead to preserve both your peace and the planet’s resources. Third, live with gratitude for what you already possess, for gratitude is the shield that disarms the seduction of false abundance.

And remember always: as Marshall McLuhan declared, advertising is an environmental striptease for a world of abundance. The spectacle will not end; it will continue to dazzle and provoke. But you, if wise, need not be its captive. Look beyond the glittering performance, and see instead the deeper truth: abundance is not in what is unveiled before your eyes, but in the quiet fullness already within your grasp.