A reader named Terri recently asked if I’d seen the Amazon holiday ad, “Joy Ride.” It features three elderly women looking wistfully at a snowy hill where young people are happily tobogganing. One of the women, naturally, goes to Amazon, purchases three sleds, and moments later, they are all laughing their way down the hill. It ends with that iconic Amazon “smile.”
Terri found it likable. I understand why. It’s warm, well-produced, and the surface message of finding simple joy and connection in later life is certainly sweet. Admittedly, I appreciate this ad for its benign, soft-spoken tone, high production values, and heartwarming “story.”
But let me remind you of a fundamental truth of advertising, one that The Cranky Creative cannot let you forget: This is not art. Although it may be artful, this is a psychological operation designed to separate you from your money.
Below: Don’t let the sweet old ladies fool you. Amazon’s “Joy Ride” holiday ad is engineered to open your wallet.
Sweet story, bitter truth
My recent articles on the poisoning of our food supply, NASA’s deceptions, and the mysteries of our hidden history all share a common purpose: to shine a light on propaganda and The Powers That Be in their efforts to manipulate us for their advantage. I want you to see how prolific the programming is.
Advertising does the exact same thing, albeit on a smaller, more social scale.
The “Joy Ride” ad is a classic example of this influence. Amazon doesn’t want you to think about the logistics: the ethically questionable supply chain, the delivery driver working mandatory holiday overtime, or the fact that the entire plot hinges on these ladies’ sudden inability to visit a local sporting goods store.
No, the ad is designed to bypass your logical, critical mind and fire directly at your limbic system — the part of the brain that houses emotion.
Here is the programmed sequence this minute-long cinematic operation is designed to run:
- Establish Wistfulness: Show the senior women gazing longingly. They are missing out on joy. (Emotional Trigger: Empathy, Nostalgia.)
- Present the Solution (Amazon): The purchase is instantaneous, effortless, and magically available. (Emotional Trigger: Immediate Gratification.)
- Deliver the Payoff: Joy, laughter, and connection are restored, wrapped up with the final, beaming Amazon “smile.” (Emotional Trigger: Positive Reinforcement, The Purchase as Virtue.)
The entire exercise is about transferring the warm, fuzzy feeling of restorative joy directly onto the act of spending money on Amazon.
The Cranky takeaway: psyops for profit
We always have to be careful when “art” or “human interest” is employed by businesses with commercial interests. The heart strings they are pulling on are actually purse strings. The “emotion” is really just psyops (psychological operations) to push a contrived selling idea.
This manipulation isn’t always as glaring or as nefarious as the programming we’ve received over things like the COVID jabs, net-zero carbon policies, or the infallibility of government science, but it’s there, and it is not our friend. The use of sentimental themes to drive a commercial action is precisely the same tactic used by the infamous Chevy “Holiday to Remember” ad of a few years ago that featured a dementia-suffering grandma, of all things, as a hook to sell trucks.
The “Joy Ride” ad is also part of the broader pattern of social engineering that permeates modern advertising — often pushing unrealistic representations of race, and almost universally promoting specific archetypes while eliminating others (like the classic “strong, confident male,” replaced by bumbling beta-males and a focus on “girl power”).
While I’ll grant you that this is a sweet little holiday ad if that is all you want it to be, I can’t quite escape the fact that it is a video manufactured to influence, persuade, and activate me to part with my money.
The “smile” on the screen is not a symbol of joy; it’s the smirk of a massive corporation that knows precisely how fragile our emotional defenses are. When the warm feelings hit, ask yourself: “Is this genuine emotion I’m feeling, or is this Amazon successfully manipulating my sense of sentimentality for a $1.99 fulfillment fee?”
Cranky Ad Review rating: Psychological manipulation is sleazy business, but it works. Four well-crafted, but completely cynical stars out of five.
Rob Rhode is a former marketing copywriter and founder of The Cranky Creative, a blog so triggering to the LinkedIn elite that he’s been called “divisive” (and worse). He’s never been invited to an industry cocktail party, but his blog has been read by millions and his insights have appeared in major books and newspapers. He’s happy to piss off the right people.
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As a 21st century senior citizen, I recognize the true animosity you and others share about the manipulative and dehumanizing impact the advertising industry has had on the world for the past half century or so. I also recognize how humans sometimes feel the need to express their frustrations at the expense of some agency of government or corporate entity, if for nothing more than their personal sanity.
All this collective animosity aside, I found the Amazon ad to be a breath of fresh air. Why? Because it recognized in a positive light what I see as a marginalized portion of society, namely, the elderly. From my perspective, modern advertising does not portray the Golden Years in any positive light whatsoever. Rather, it is something of a burden one needs to avoid or ignore. Through advertising, we are preyed upon by the pharmaceutical companies, health insurers, etc. Notice how they don’t target the young singles and families cavorting about life without a single care?
I believe everyone is born to have worth way above their dollar value to companies and agencies. Yet, we are living in a dis-unified and marginalized society greatly impacted by modern advertising where human life is merely a commodity to be exploited. Where did we go wrong?
Thank you for this insightful comment. It really brings the discussion full circle, reminding us that even within a cynical operation, there can be a sliver of genuine impact — specifically, the recognition of a marginalized group.
I absolutely agree with your premise that modern advertising generally portrays the Golden Years not as a period of joy or worth, but as a burden — a time when one is merely a target for pharmaceutical companies, health insurers, and reverse mortgage predators. The vast majority of media pushes the narrative that youth is the only time of true value, joy, and consumption.
So, I tip my hat to Amazon for one thing: it is rare to see older Americans portrayed in a positive, aspirational light in a major TV commercial. The company successfully tapped into a universal desire for connection and simple, restorative fun that transcends age.
That said, while Amazon deserves a credit for positive representation, we must immediately pivot back to the motive. The ad did not feature three senior women because Jeff Bezos suddenly developed a deep appreciation for the worth of the elderly; it did so because the data showed that connecting the warm, overlooked feeling of senior citizen wistfulness to the act of buying would maximize profit.
It’s the ultimate corporate tightrope walk: giving a nod to human value, but only as a means to extract dollar value.
You ask, “Where did we go wrong?”
In my cranky opinion, we went wrong when we allowed commercial interests to become the primary architects of our culture and emotional landscape. When the pursuit of profit became the only universally acceptable and celebrated motive in art, media, and public messaging, every genuine human moment — like the joy of sledding or the desire for connection — became an exploitable asset.
Thanks again for adding such a thoughtful layer to the discussion.
Great perspective Rob. I agree with you that the first thought I had was “Amazon is tugging heart strings to sell more Chinese made crap”. Like others have said, there is NOTHING realistic about that commercial:
1. What are the odds that 3 old geezers can get to the top of the hill in the first place?
2. They all get to the bottom of the hill without breaking a hip…Really?
3. Where did they get the sleds and helmets?
I do however have to call you out on something you missed. This was a racist commercial. Shame on Amazon for having 3 WHITE women. I was fully expecting a Black, Hispanic or tranny geezer in the group.
Also, the more I re-watch it, it looks more and more like it was AI generated. They were supposed to be at a cold ski mountain yet no one was breathing steam
Have a wonderful Christmas and God Bless what you are doing!
Thank you for your candid feedback and for spotting those hilarious plot holes!
You’re right: the primary thought this kind of advertising should trigger is, “They are tugging heartstrings to sell more stuff.” The instant the sentimentality hits, you should hear the cash register ringing.
Your analysis of the physics and logistics of the ad is right-on, too:
Scaling the Hill: I’m assuming those three sleds came with three complimentary ski lifts, courtesy of Amazon Prime.
No Broken Hips: That’s the biggest fantasy of the whole minute-long cinematic operation. That, and the immediate, hassle-free delivery.
The Helmets: I missed those! Amazon would absolutely push safety gear to avoid a potential lawsuit from a hypothetical, hypothermic elderly sledder.
As for your comment about the casting. I too was surprised to see all three women were white. Someone on the project missed an opportunity to tick an ESG checkbox!
And finally, yes — the ad does look a little like AI was used, doesn’t it? You may be onto something with the lack of steamy breaths.
Thanks for the great perspective and analysis. Have a wonderful Christmas!
Rob-this is Terri (the one who originally requested the ad review), and I so appreciate your candid opinion of this TV commercial. I must, however, say that this ad did not convince me to spend any more money than I would have otherwise. I’m pretty resistant to sales pitches and find myself resolving to NEVER buy some of the products whose ads I find offensive for whatever reason. And the list keeps growing.
Thanks again! Always a pleasure to read the newest additions to your blog.
From one cynic to another- T
Hello Terri! It’s great to hear back from the reader who started the whole discussion.
I completely understand (and applaud) your personal resistance to these sales pitches. The feeling of resolving to NEVER buy a product because its advertising is offensive is a genuine act of consumer defense, and I share it wholeheartedly.
Keep fighting the good fight and adding to that list of banned products!
Cleared HOT, Rob! It is indeed a psy-ops effort by AMAZON to squeeze the wallet/pocket-book, and as usual, you are merciless in taking no prisoners (including the little elderly ladies!). If I had a single Christmas Wish to be granted me, it would be to have the flock of American Sheeple consumers pay critical attention to such productions as is this one and utterly excoriate the culprits (AMAZON, STARBUCKS, et al) for their unbounded corporate greed. First of all, were a trio of gals like those to undertake such an adventure, they’d likely end up at the bottom of the hill having cardiac events (or at least a seizure or stroke). Second, they would be looked upon by the REAL kids in that tableaux as totally having lost their marbles, not with innocent smiles and laughter. Nothing like tapping into the carotid artery of collective human sentimentalism to extract a price, eh? Scrooge would be so proud of his psych-minion marketeers at AMAZON, I think! A very merry MERETRICIOUS to all!
Cleared HOT, indeed! Thank you for the merciless comment — it’s always good to hear from someone who appreciates a full-bore, no-prisoners critique.
I’m afraid your Christmas wish for American Sheeple to excoriate corporate culprits is a sweet dream we’ll probably both be wistfully gazing at from the top of a snowy hill. As you noted, Amazon knows exactly how to tap that carotid artery of collective human sentimentalism and make the warm feelings flow… directly into their coffers.
I love your cynical analysis of the actual plot:
Likely Outcome 1: Three elderly women suffer simultaneous cardiac events at the bottom of the hill.
Likely Outcome 2: The “real kids” look on not with innocent smiles, but with the bewildered scorn of modern youth realizing the old ladies have, in fact, lost their marbles.
The entire contrived scenario is about transferring the “virtue” of nostalgia and connection onto the act of consumption. The truth is much messier, less heartwarming, and, as you correctly stated, probably requires a team of paramedics on standby.
You nailed it with your final assessment: Scrooge would be incredibly proud of Amazon’s psych-minion marketeers. The holiday season has officially become a perfect storm of engineered sentimentality.
A very merry MERETRICIOUS to you, too!
Also, Rob, off the subject, but I’d like your take on the disgusting current promo from Directv showing the 2 whatevers in furry robes, flexing their pecs while getting ready to watch football. Yeah, right. They’re just watching the players bums. I’m glad I ditched Directv years ago.
Thanks, Robert. I’ll look into it.
Rob, I read this right after I added an item to my existing Amazon order for overnight delivery!! Lol. But Amazon has made things too easy on us. You want/need something? Don’t jump in your car and visit a local merchant. Hit the Amazon icon to have it delivered to your door!! Having lived in several somewhat isolated rural communities over the past 18 years, it’s been my go-to. It has saved me from numerous 25-40 mile drives (one way) to “local merchants.” It even delivered beloved Texan staple foods to me while living in Pennsylvania. And right now, I just hate driving in the shithole city I currently live.
But I agree with you. They have gotten where they are by manipulating our basic desire of “gotta have it now!!”and playing on emotions. And when ordering whatever it is that you want, they always tease you by showing other items. “Wow, that’s neat!! And only $25 more!! Add that to my order!” Manipulation just the same as everything else in basic life today.
And another aspect of Amazon – I am currently between jobs in my lifelong profession, oilfield service. To make ends meet somewhat, I am now doing Amazon Flex deliveries. Low pay, tough delivery schedules, and no backup or basic training from Amazon on their systems and expectations. Oh, they have brief write-ups and a few short animated videos on their Flex app, but you basically learn from your mistakes. Unfortunately, your mistakes, whether really your fault or not, can lead to you to losing your “delivery privileges.” We are just like their customers, pieces of meat to be exploited. I’ll get glad when the holidays are over and the oilfield picks up.
One last thing, Rob. If I was the type of person who threw cocktail parties, I’d certainly invite you.
Your old bud, Robert Stack.
Robert, thanks for chiming in! It always makes my day when I see a comment from you. And I love the timing — reading my rant right after placing your own order! Full disclosure: I myself placed an order with Amazon earlier this afternoon.
I appreciate you sharing your experience as an Amazon Flex driver. Your insight is powerful, confirming the other side of my argument — the one they don’t want you to think about. Low pay, tough schedules, minimal training, and the constant threat of losing your privileges based on vague metrics… that’s the human cost baked into the “effortless” experience the ad is selling. You’re right: you and the customer are both just pieces to be exploited in their massive machine. I truly hope the oilfield picks up quickly for you, and you can put the delivery gig behind you.
On a related note, working my gatehouse job, I see a constant stream of delivery drivers, and I’ve noticed something interesting about the independent drivers (Flex, Walmart, etc.): it is rare to encounter one who speaks English. Finding out where they are going or what company they work for has become a monumental, multi-lingual task. And I have now had three non-English speakers openly express frustration, shaking their heads or even yelling at me, simply because I speak English and not Spanish. In the United States of America.
Houston, we have a problem.
Thanks again for writing!
On your final thoughts, I share your frustration. Driver Support calls go to the other side of the globe (you know where). And there is ample frustration trying to understand what they’re saying. And to make matters worse, they get mad when you can’t understand them!! Geez….