Jean Kilbourne, filmmaker of the documentary series Killing Us Softly, writes in her novel Can’t Buy My Love “the primary purpose of the mass media is to sell audiences to advertisers. We are the product.” The danger of mass media is that while its omnipresence is so conspicuously entrenched within society, its influence is often brushed off and underestimated. The effect of mass media is very subtle, but it ultimately forms the ways we view and perceive the world. It has the power to mold and perpetuate certain notions. In fact, Kilbourne’s recent installment Killing Us Softly 4 shows examples in which several female celebrities’ bodies are photoshopped before being distributed to the masses; thus, the American perception of beauty is formed. While beauty has always been a fickle social construct, advertisers wield the ability to construct beauty for society by using a simple software program. More importantly, the demographic most vulnerable to mass media is undoubtedly children, particularly in the United States, as “the United States is one of the few industrialized nations in the world that thinks that children are legitimate targets for advertising” (Kilbourne 43). Now what product is more pertinent towards children than the classic board game?

A staple tabletop game stowed away in many American households is Battleship – a guessing simulation to destroy an opponent’s military fleet. The game has gone on to spawn several variations across different gaming platforms and was in fact one of the first available computer games. However, Battleship’s success hardly justifies what would now be considered an immensely controversial aspect of its marketing: its box cover.

An initial, cursory glance of the aforementioned box cover registers a brightly colored illustration depicting a warm interaction between a father-son duo bonding over a tabletop game. However, when one’s gaze shifts past the chuckling father, one can squint to see two small figures tucked away in the upper left corner of the cover: the mother and the daughter. This already alerts viewers of the implicit sexism present in the cover in that the males of the family are placed in the foreground of the image with the females out of focus in the background. The shallow depth of field in the photo highlights the facial expressions on the father and son and their evident enjoyment, whereas the mother and daughter’s blurred faces only appear to be smiling as they spectate. Kilbourne also mentions of the repeated occurrence in which advertisements dismember women, reducing their identity to the physical traits of their bodies. In this case, the box cover does not identify women by their breasts or physique since the game’s intended demographic of children eliminates the need to sexualize its product. Rather, Battleship’s advertisers are building a more wholesome theme of family around their game. Yet despite this thematic choice and in what is arguably Battleship’s most conspicuous medium for displaying the purpose of their product, the females are not even playing the game. Instead, they are otherwise occupied with dishwashing. In this way, the advertisers have dismembered females on a non-physical level by reducing their identity to their role in the kitchen. While the illustrators no doubt strived to somehow include the women of the household in the photo, their chosen depiction of this demographic seems to be unnecessary.

The box cover also speaks of white privilege. As stated before, the game targets the all American family, which is commonly portrayed in the media as white, middle to upper class, and patriarchal. This pattern is not disrupted by Battleship’s box cover as seen by the figures’ skin color and preppy style of clothing. The cover’s connection to white privilege is best illustrated by activist Peggy McIntosh. In one of her articles, McIntosh provides a list that enables readers to pinpoint unrealized experiences of privilege, such as “I can easily buy posters, postcards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys, and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.” Board game covers are not present in this list of product, but every time a child takes out Battleship for a quick game, he or she is exposed to a standardized depiction of an American family dictated by a team of advertisers. As can be seen, from a very young age, American society is narrowing the vision of many children who will grow up within the scope of this limited perspective.

Kilbourne argues that we, as an audience and potential buyers, are the products that are sold to advertisers. She also argues that advertising encourages significant relationships, including those within families, to be grounded in the products that we buy, that if we buy a board game, we can bond with our children. Just like white privilege, advertising is present and pervasive, but it is also an invisible part of society. As we become more knowledgeable about the dangers of mass media, we should seek to reform the way in which we condition children to perceive each other and the world.