rheostatic control for a lamp or overhead light: by turning it, one can make the light dimmer or brighter. The same principle can be used in motion picture photography. First, the commercial is shot and edited to sixty seconds in the conventional manner. This is the half of the advertisement that registers with the conscious mind. Another minute of film, containing the subliminal message, is shot with minimal light intensity, with the rheostat turned all the way down. The resultant image is too dim to register with the conscious mind. When it is projected on a screen, the screen appears to be blank. However, the subconscious sees and absorbs it. These two films are projected simultaneously and printed on a third length of film. It is this composite version that is used on television. While the audience watches the commercial, the subconscious mind watches—and obeys, to one degree or another—the subliminal directive.
“And that’s only the basic technique,” Salsbury said. “The refinements are even more clever.”
Dawson paced. He wasn’t nervous. He was just—excited.
He’s beginning to see the value, Salsbury thought happily.
“I see how subliminals could be hidden in a piece of film that’s full of motion, light and shadow,” Dawson said. “But magazine ads? That’s a static medium. One image, no movement. How could a subliminal be concealed on one page?”
Pointing to the photographs he had given Dawson earlier, Salsbury said, “For that picture I kept my face expressionless. Two copies were made from the same negative. Copy A was printed over a vague image of the word ‘anger.’ And B was printed over the word ‘joy. ’”
Comparing the photos, Dawson said, “I don’t see either word.”
“I’d be displeased if you did. They aren’t meant to be seen.”
“What was the purpose?”
“One hundred students at Columbia were given photo A and asked to identify the emotion expressed by the face. Ten students had no opinion. Eight said ‘displeasure’ and eighty-two said ‘anger.’ A different group studied photo B. Eight expressed no opinion. Twenty-one said ‘happiness’ and seventy-one said ‘joy.”’
“I see,” Dawson said thoughtfully.
Salsbury said, “But that’s as crude as the tachistoscope. Let me show you some sophisticated subliminal ads.” He plucked a sheet of paper from his briefcase. It was a page from Time magazine. He put the page on Dawson’s blotter.
“It’s an ad for Gilbey’s Gin,” Dawson said.
At a glance it was a simple liquor advertisement. A five-word headline stood at the top of the page: BREAK OUT THE FROSTY BOTTLE. The only other copy was toward the lower right-hand comer: AND KEEP YOUR TONICS DRY! The accompanying illustration held three items. The most prominent of these was a bottle of gin which glistened with water droplets and frost. The cap of the bottle lay at the bottom of the page. Beside the bottle was a tall glass filled with ice cubes, a lime slice, a swizzle stick and, presumably, gin. The background was green, cool, pleasant.
The message intended for the conscious mind was clear: This gin is refreshing and offers an escape from everyday cares.
What the page had to say to the subconscious mind was far more interesting. Salsbury explained that most of the subliminal content was buried beneath the threshold of conscious recognition, but that some of it could be seen and analyzed, although only with an open mind and perseverance. The subliminal that the conscious could most easily comprehend was hidden in the ice cubes. There were four ice cubes stacked one atop the other. The second cube from the top and the lime slice formed a vague letter S which the conscious mind could see when prompted. The third cube held a very evident letter E in the area of light and shadow that comprised the cube itself. The fourth chunk of ice contained the subtle but unmistakable outline of the letter X: S-E-X.
Salsbury had come around behind