Lads' mags and cheap lager: the Fosters ad belongs in the 90s

The ADgenda: This week's most offensive ad.

You'd think by now that tired old sexist stereotypes would have died a well overdue death. After all, no one benefitted from them - the well worn route of wife/girlfriend as ball and chain was offensive to women and patronising to any self-respecting male with a modicum of intelligence. In the 90s (the era of lads' mags and cheap lager) the marketing ideal seemed to be geared towards some sort of loveless existence where the very sight of your other half had you reaching for the cyanide. Women were inadequate versions of men, and the only appropriate response was to mock or have sex with them. But apparently this neanderthal view still has life in it if the new Fosters ad is anything to go by.

There are some ads that make you wish you could erase the memory from your brain the moment you've finished watching. This one falls squarely into that category as a whiney girlfriend rings the Fosters lad helpline to complain that her boyfriend never listens to her, bang on cue the "lads" give her some vague platitudes and leave her to gripe on the other side of the telephone as they continue with the important task of chugging down can after can of the brown watery stuff - necessary because this lager is so weak it would take a gallon and multiple trips to the bathroom before you started to feel even mildly woozy. She is satisfied with this diluted advice, because she is a silly woman, and ends the  call sighing something along the lines of: "I wish my boyfriend was as good a listener as you boys". Bam, fooled her, stupid women!

In the world this ad has created no one is a winner. Woman is stupid and neglected, man is bored and boorish. And both will sit at the dinner table dissatisfied and frustrated - in ad world, the battle of the sexes is raging.

Good call! Photograph: Getty Images
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Why a group of Brunel students walked out on Katie Hopkins instead of no-platforming her

"We silently walked out because Ms Hopkins has the right to speak, but we also have the right to express our discontent."

Earlier this week, columnist and all-round provocateur Katie Hopkins turned up to Brunel University to join a panel in debating whether the welfare state has a place in 2015. No prizes for guessing her stance on this particular issue

But as Hopkins began her speech, something odd happened. Around 50 students stood up and left, leaving the hall half-empty.

Here's the video:

As soon as Hopkins begins speaking, some students stand up with their backs to the panelists. Then, they all leave - as the nonplussed chair asks them to "please return to their seats". 

The walk-out was, in fact, pre-planned by the student union as an act of protest against Hopkins' appearance at an event held as part of the University's 50th anniversary celebrations. 

Ali Milani, the Brunel Student Union president, says he and other students knew the walk-out would "start a conversation" around no-platforming on campuses, but as he points out, "What is often overlooked (either purposely or as a result of the fanfare) is that the conversation at no point has been about banning Ms Hopkins from speaking on campus, or denying her right to speak."

Instead, students who found her appearance at the welfare debate "incongruous" and "distasteful" simply left the room: "We silently walked out because Ms Hopkins has the right to speak, but we also have the right to express our discontent."

Milani praised the student body for treading the line between freedom of speech and expressing their distaste at Brunel's decision: 

"They have respectfully voiced their antagonism at the decision of their institution, but also . . . proven their commitment to free of speech and freedom of expression."

The protest was an apt way to dodge the issues of free speech surrounding no-platforming, while rejecting Hopkins' views. A walk-out symbolises the fact that we aren't obliged to listen to people like Hopkins. She is free to speak, of course, albeit to empty chairs. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.