The Average Joe, Recast
Why do so many US commercials portray ordinary men as incapable? A look at class, competence, and the changing role of the “average Joe” in advertising.
Increasingly over the past year, I have noticed a disturbing and pervasive pattern taking root across US advertising. The exact same character has begun appearing with relentless frequency, from insurance ads, fast-food spots, mobile provider promotions, pharmaceutical campaigns, home services, and household products.
He is familiar. A middle-aged man (or rapidly approaching it), usually a husband, and almost always coded as working or lower-middle class through the subtle markers of his clothing, his surroundings, his body type, his regional accent, or his interests.
And in nearly every narrative, he is portrayed as fundamentally incompetent.
He cannot manage the children, organize the household, repair a simple malfunction, nor follow basic instructions. Whether he is making poor decisions, eating badly, looking disheveled, or entirely lacking initiative, he is trapped in a loop of perpetual failure, waiting to be rescued by someone wiser or more capable than himself.
This is not an absolute claim that every US commercial follows the exact same creative formula; plenty of exceptional campaigns do not. But across the vast landscape of mass-market consumer advertising, a specific and troubling stereotype has become remarkably dominant, the ordinary working man reimagined as a figure of deficiency.
Twenty years ago, American advertising frequently portrayed ordinary men as imperfect but fundamentally capable. The suburban father burning burgers on the weekend barbecue may have been a classic comedic trope, but he was still the hero of the story. He worked, provided, fixed things, and made meaningful decisions. He was someone who commanded a baseline of respect. Today, however, the ordinary man on screen is increasingly framed not as a capable adult navigating life's choices, but as a problematic condition requiring immediate external correction.
Advertising, by its very nature, has always trafficked in the language of aspiration, operating on the premise that a product will somehow elevate or improve the consumer's daily life. Historically, this meant inviting the audience upward; that a purchase could make you more successful, attractive, organized, confident, or simply more respected within your community. Yet, many contemporary campaigns choose to reverse this foundational equation. Instead of elevating the consumer, they begin by subtly diminishing him. In this new narrative framework, the product itself becomes the only competent entity on screen.
Perhaps the most revealing dimension of this trend is that it operates as a deeply entrenched story about class. No advertisement explicitly announces that a character is working class. Instead, the signals are much more subtle, yet instantly recognizable. A pickup truck parked in a driveway, a slightly cluttered suburban living room, a distinct regional accent, cargo shorts, a service uniform, or a visible preference for comfort over status. Through these visual and auditory markers, the audience instantly understands exactly where the character sits in the modern social hierarchy.
The contrast became impossible for me to ignore after spending seven years watching advertising in Portugal and east Africa, where ordinary adults are generally portrayed through a completely different lens. In those markets, everyday people may not be glamorous, and they may not be exceptionally wealthy, but they are almost universally presented as competent, self-sufficient participants in their own lives. The product is introduced to enhance their day, not to rescue them from their own inherent cluelessness.
That small but profound difference raises a much larger strategic question: Why have so many US advertisers become so comfortable portraying a customer segment with strong purchasing power as incapable, unattractive, or perpetually in need of correction? The answer ultimately says as much about the insular nature of contemporary marketing culture as it does about the people being marketed to.
A Thought for Marketers
For brands, this trend represents far more than a mere creative whim; it is a profound strategic choice. Every advertisement communicates a set of unspoken assumptions about the audience it wishes to reach. It signals who is valued, who is admired, and who deserves to be the hero of the narrative.
Humor will always have a vital place in effective advertising, as will genuine self-awareness. However, brands should occasionally pause to ask themselves one deceptively simple question: Are we truly inviting consumers to aspire to something better, or are we asking them to look down at people who look exactly like them?
Advertising ultimately reflects the daily life of a culture. By alienating a large segment of the population and consistently portraying them as less, advertisers create the very conditions that allow these dismissive attitudes to permeate the broader culture. The brands that understand that dynamic, and choose to break the cycle, may discover a truth that is surprisingly old-fashioned, people still respond positively to being respected.