Now first of all don’t get me wrong: this isn’t a piece bashing the new John Lewis Christmas advert. Ok well maybe it is. But not in the usual way people might (‘eurgh God! More wet, sentimental tosh selling us stuff’ – that kind of thing). I for one, don’t fully understand the appeal of adverts that have the potential to make you weep. For me, parting with my money and sobbing already go hand-in-hand; I scarcely need a cuddly penguin to provoke me further. But that’s not my issue here. My issue is that the advert doesn’t really make sense and that the wrong messages are being sent out.

It’s nice that the little girl cares about the lonely old man on the moon. Admittedly, my first concern would have been his obvious lack of breathing apparatus, but I suppose after observing him sat on a bench quite comfortably, she concluded that he was superhuman, like Superman. Superman can breathe in space you see, or at least he can survive in space without breathing. To be honest, as a fictional, alien lifeform I’m not even sure Superman needs to breathe, in spite of the fact that he has regular human features that were developed almost exclusively for that task (i.e. nasal passages and lungs). Superman also has super-breath – he can blow over enemies with a massive puff – or even fix Earth’s orbit according to the following image, although what he’s breathing out is anyone’s guess, since he can’t have breathed in air up there in space, on account of there being none.

I don’t know. I appreciate that it’s probably not worth worrying about.

But yeah, anyway, it’s right that she should be concerned for him being lonely at Christmas, and lovely that she should get him a present, but I’m still not sure about her choice. Sure, we’re clearly dealing with some sort of superhuman who requires neither breathing apparatus nor a means of producing food – so scratch those ideas off the drawing board – but a telescope? I’m not a parent, but if my fictional daughter were to come up to me and ask for my credit card details to purchase a telescope for a strange bloke on the moon, I’d definitely have reservations. Firstly, telescopes aren’t cheap. Remember, I have already purchased her one, which she’s using to spy on extraterrestrial OAPs. Now she’s proposing not only that I purchase a second, antique-looking telescope but assist her in purchasing enough helium balloons to carry the bloody thing up to the moon. In my admittedly sceptical eyes, that would be an idea almost certainly doomed to failure – I don’t care what John Lewis suggests. Secondly, presuming it somehow finds its way there – through an atmosphere that effortlessly disintegrates incoming rock and outgoing spacecraft fuselage – am I entirely comfortable giving a lonely, old man the means with which to peer into my beloved, if misguided, fictional daughter’s bedroom? To be honest, I’m not keen on the idea. I’m sure he’s alright and all but… well your attitudes change when you have fictional children of your own, don’t they?

Personally, I’d send help. The sadness evoked by the tale suggests that the old man is living in a shack on the moon, not through choice, but out of horrible circumstance. Maybe the old people’s home on the moon was closed down as a direct result of government spending cuts. Cameron’s solar system etc. But surely there’s someone that can go up and collect him. If a small child can send up a balloon-assisted telescope with little trouble, then surely our government can get their act together and bring the lonely, extraterrestrial, superhuman old man in out of the cold of space. Anyway, even if we sent him a telescope, is that really going to make him feel better? Here you go sir, here’s a means with which to look at other people who aren’t stranded on a cold, barren piece of rock – look at them all, enjoying their Waitrose Christmas dinner with their brand new John Lewis dining sets! Doesn’t that make you feel better?!

I care about the elderly, and it’s nice that John Lewis have allowed a spot in their otherwise unbridled sales drive to remind us that there are millions who spend far too much of their lives alone. Better than reminding us of the needs of stuffed penguins, cartoon wildlife and snowmen, of which there are of course none. It reminded me of Sainsbury’s last year, who in their seasonal advert remembered the tremendous sacrifice of soldiers in World War I and the remarkable Christmas ceasefire of 1914 and were even so generous to allow their shoppers to continue the remembrance via the purchase of special remembrance chocolate as featured in their special remembrance advert. They even donated the proceeds of the chocolate sales to the Royal British Legion, who up until that point had failed to tap into the ‘edible remembrance item’ market, selling little other than (mostly inedible) fake poppies for the best part of a century.

Remember them.

My bone is not with John Lewis’s intentions – which are honest, true and entirely pure I have no doubt. The fact that their entire year hinges almost exclusively on their performance over the next two months and by extension the public’s perception of the brand through promotional campaigns is a completely separate matter, obviously. Obviously. My issue, as I said in the beginning bit before I got sidetracked with Superman, is with the confused message it seems to be sending out, which is ‘buy a lonely old person a telescope this Christmas’.

In my opinion, I think that there’s a great risk of disappointing thousands of elderly people with such a gift – elderly people who might have preferred a nice jam set, or a bottle of Bailey’s, or affordable central heating. While telescopes may be fun for those with an interest in constellations, it’s fairly common knowledge that most residential areas come with too much light pollution from both buildings and streetlights to make effective use of one from the comfort of your own home. For most old people, heading out into a light-free area such as a remote field, or orbiting moon with a telescope is usually the last thing they want to do at nighttime – especially in the winter. I know because I’ve asked

Granted, there are some elderly persons who might make use of them to peer at goings-on in and around the neighbourhood. My auntie knows at least one who’d probably give it a go: the “nosey old bitch” across from her is always parting the curtains to have a look at whatever is going on (but then as I noted, isn’t she doing exactly the same thing if she’s able to see her doing it through her own window? “Shut up Marc.” my mum whispers into my ear)

Voyeurism is not something to condone in anyone, even the aged – even if they’re living alone on the moon. It’s bad enough the government snooping in on our activities through the internet, phone-tapping and surveillance cameras around every corner, but a nation of lonely old people peering at us through well-intended-but-hastily-bought Christmas gifts as well? I hope those that watch the advert from tonight onwards can think clearly through the haze of tears and snot and picture what a nightmare this would be. Don’t do it. The more sensible path in my opinion would be for us all to make more of an effort to visit the elderly people in our lives – with or without a gift from John Lewis – and be thankful that they don’t live on the moon (yet).