The Partial Observer by Gayane Torosyan
Pandora’s Echo Box
Listening to music on Pandora makes long drives more manageable, offering a steady stream of tunes to ease the journey. Yet, the temptation to go ad-free is curbed by the cost of subscriptions across various services. As a result, listeners endure quirky, unforgettable advertisements—like one that encourages users to pay extra for an ad-free music streaming service to “Ahh” all day, rather than just after a bath. Despite its knack for inventing new verbs, Pandora succeeds in shaping informed choices for its users.
Now Pandora listeners know what media service to buy, who to vote for, and how to self-deport if they intend to do something naughty, following a message from the Secretary of Homeland Security. So do they know that executing companion animals would not prevent them from running for high office. In fact, it might signal the right “virtue” to the right people.
In an April 26, 2024 article for “The Guardian,” Martin Pengelly explored shifting ethical standards for politicians. He highlighted the scrutiny faced by Richard Nixon in 1952 for accepting a dog, Checkers, as a political gift during his vice-presidential campaign. Decades later, in 2012, Mitt Romney, the Republican presidential nominee, faced backlash for transporting his dog, Seamus, on the roof of his car.
Jump to 2024, when South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem admitted in her memoir, “No Going Back,” to leading her dog, Cricket, to a gravel pit and shooting her. She explained that Cricket had become unmanageable, killing chickens and attempting to bite her. Noem also mentioned shooting an unnamed billy goat in the same gravel pit, citing its aggressive behavior. Though both actions align with South Dakota law, one must ask—why resurrect events buried for a quarter of a century? What should have been condemned as cruelty in a compassionate society has, instead, been transformed into a stepping stone to political prominence.
While our high-ranking officials now boast the fleeting longevity of Betta splendens, there remains hope that the ever-dwindling reservoir of charlatans and television personalities—among them George Santos, former Republican U.S. Representative, and Dr. Mehmet Oz, former Republican nominee for the U.S. Senate in Pennsylvania —may, at last, dry up. Still, the message is nothing short of formidable, as it conveys a collective craving for eccentric, ruthless, and deceitful leaders who might shatter our long-standing trust in integrity, compassion, and wisdom.
In a world teetering on the edge of its own contradictions, the message rings out with a chilling resonance. It reflects a public so disenchanted with the status quo that we now seek upheaval over stability, sensation over sincerity.
Messages are what media deliver, but the choice is always ours to make. Take the example of political ads aimed at Antonio Delgado, current lieutenant governor of New York, who was then campaigning for a seat in the U.S. Congress.
Pandora, a member of the SiriusXM Media family, brands itself as a premium platform for engaging audiences and driving impact. In 2018, that impact took center stage when the music service aired an ad referencing Representative John Faso’s controversial remarks about his constituents in New York’s 19th Congressional District, as described in a “New York Times” editorial. Faso’s assessment proved flawed, as Antonio Delgado triumphed in the election. Despite the Pandora ad’s critique of Delgado’s lyrics as “offensive” and “inconsistent with the district’s values,” his victory highlighted his reputation as a distinguished scholar, politician, and family man.
Ahead of its intended impact on politics, Pandora’s “Music Genome Project” stands out as a tool for tailoring song recommendations. By analyzing tracks with musicologist-approved methods across 450 musical attributes, the service claims to craft a unique “DNA” for each song. This data fuels its algorithm to suggest similar tracks based on user preferences. The results, however, can be hit-or-miss—sometimes underwhelming or even disappointing, sometimes downright frustrating, and nearly always straying far from the initial pursuit of an artist station. Now, imagine Pandora applying this approach to its paid advertisements. What would the auditory equivalent of cruelty and prejudice sound like? Surely not “Ahh.”
Dr. Gayane Torosyan is a professor of media studies in the Department of Communication and Media at SUNY Oneonta.
