YOU BLOCKED THE AD.
BUT DID YOU BLOCK THE MESSAGE?
Advertising, ad blockers, roadside drug testing, six degrees of corporate separation — and the strange possibility that sometimes the advertisement isn't really selling you anything.
We need to talk about ad blockers.
Because apparently we've reached the magnificent stage of the internet where we expect websites, apps, journalism, entertainment, social media, streaming services and digital tools to exist permanently...
...while becoming personally offended when somebody attempts to pay for them.
“This website contains advertising!”
Yes.
It's almost as though servers, developers, journalists, designers, moderators and electricity providers have stubbornly continued requesting money.
How inconsiderate.
K — KEEP THE INTERNET FREE. JUST DON'T SHOW ME HOW IT'S PAID FOR.
Ad-blocking apps and browser extensions are incredibly popular for an obvious reason: advertising can be bloody annoying.
Pop-ups.
Autoplay videos.
Six banners fighting for your eyeballs.
A newsletter invitation appearing 0.8 seconds after you've arrived.
And my personal favourite:
“We value your privacy.”
Followed immediately by a screen containing approximately 847 companies interested in valuing it too.
There are legitimate reasons people block intrusive advertising, particularly when privacy, tracking, security or accessibility are involved.
But there is another side to it.
When advertising financially supports a free website, publication, creator, app or service, blocking every advertisement while continuing to consume the service creates an interesting little economic contradiction:
I want what you made.
I don't want to pay for what you made.
And I don't want anyone else paying you while I look at what you made either.
Excellent business model.
Netflix should try it.
Y — YOU'RE NOT ALWAYS THE CUSTOMER. SOMETIMES YOU'RE THE AUDIENCE.
Advertising isn't merely somebody screaming:
BUY TOOTHPASTE.
Good advertising can introduce an idea.
Change behaviour.
Start a conversation.
Create cultural recognition.
Deliver a public-health warning.
Make something memorable enough that when a particular situation occurs three months later, your brain suddenly goes:
Hang on. I've heard this before.
That's marketing.
The cleverest advertising doesn't always make you stare directly at the product.
Sometimes it makes you notice something around the product.
Sometimes the message is bigger than whatever occupies the rectangle on your screen.
L — LOOK AT THE VICTORIA POLICE EXAMPLE.
Victoria's roadside drug-testing program provides an interesting example.
Victoria Police has publicly operated a large roadside drug-testing program, with an annual benchmark around 150,000 prohibited-drug screening tests. In 2024–25, Victoria Police reported conducting 169,070 such tests. Research by Monash University has separately evaluated expansions of roadside drug testing and their relationship with road trauma.
Years ago, I remember hearing a Victoria Police radio advertisement about roadside drug testing.
My recollection of it is strikingly simple.
The advertisement essentially established that Victoria Police were stopping large numbers of motorists and conducting drug tests.
Then came an officer:
“Can I see your driver's licence?”
A moment passed.
Then:
“Okay, you're free to go.”
End advertisement.
No Hollywood car chase.
No dramatic bass drop.
No bloke named Damo throwing a Commodore sideways through a Bunnings car park.
Just an ordinary police interaction.
And that's precisely why it stuck with me.
E — EXPERIENCE SOMETIMES MAKES AN ADVERTISEMENT FEEL VERY DIFFERENT.
Speaking from my own experience, I later encountered roadside situations that felt remarkably similar to the scenario I remembered hearing in that advertisement.
That doesn't establish that the advertisement itself was secretly conducting an experiment.
I haven't found evidence proving that.
What is documented is that Victoria's roadside drug-testing expansion has been formally researched and evaluated, including examination of testing numbers, enforcement practices and road-safety outcomes.
And that's where my question begins.
What information can be sitting completely in the open—broadcast on radio, printed in annual reports, buried in research papers or delivered through advertising—without most of us ever joining the pieces together?
Perhaps sometimes the supposedly boring announcement deserves another listen.
J — JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING FEELS CONNECTED DOESN'T AUTOMATICALLY PROVE THE CONNECTION.
This distinction matters.
My interpretation is that the advertisement, the roadside experience and the research program feel connected.
The documented evidence establishes the testing program and its evaluation.
It does not, from what I can verify, establish that motorists were unknowingly participating in a secret behavioural experiment about whether drug-affected drivers could carry their licences, maintain control of their vehicles or reproduce the exact scenario from the advertisement.
That's my theory—not a finding I'm presenting as established fact.
And frankly, separating those two things makes the question more interesting.
Because transparency isn't simply dumping information somewhere technically accessible.
Real transparency means ordinary people can find it, understand it and connect it to what government is actually doing.
O — OPEN INFORMATION CAN STILL BE ALMOST INVISIBLE.
Government departments publish enormous quantities of information.
Annual reports.
Strategies.
Budgets.
Evaluations.
Research.
Policies.
Consultations.
Statistics.
You could theoretically read all of it.
You could also theoretically spend your Saturday night alphabetising your spice rack.
Availability and accessibility aren't quite the same thing.
Victoria Police's own published material confirms that roadside drug testing has expanded considerably. Its 2024–25 reporting says testing locations increased from 72 to 141, particularly in regional Victoria.
That's not hidden.
But how many Victorians know it?
That's the fascinating bit.
S — SOMETIMES THE MESSAGE HIDES IN PLAIN SIGHT.
This is also why I've become fascinated by brands, language, advertising and the strange connections our brains discover between them.
I've previously written about connections I notice across names and brands—things like Myki, KIIS, Kmart, Target, Linkt, TK Maxx, TJ Maxx and E&S—and the way letters, initials, names and visual identities can form patterns when I look at them through my own “Kyle XY” framework.
To be perfectly clear:
I'm not claiming those companies secretly designed their businesses around Kyle Josef Taus.
That would be quite an impressive board meeting.
“Item seven: quarterly earnings.”
“Item eight: Asia-Pacific expansion.”
“Item nine: cryptically construct Kyle's identity across Australian consumer brands without telling Kyle.”
Motion carried unanimously.
I treat those connections as creative symbolism—a way of looking at branding and asking why certain patterns become meaningful to us.
And advertising is the perfect playground for that.
E — EVERY BRAND WANTS A PLACE IN YOUR HEAD.
That's ultimately the purpose of branding.
Recognition.
Association.
Memory.
You see a colour.
Hear three notes.
Notice a typeface.
Read two words.
Suddenly you know the company before the logo even appears.
That's not necessarily sinister subliminal manipulation.
Most of the time it's simply very good marketing.
But it demonstrates something important:
Human beings don't experience advertising as isolated rectangles.
We connect advertising to memories, experiences, places, conversations and other brands.
The advertisement ends.
The association doesn't.
F — FOLLOW THAT IDEA FAR ENOUGH AND YOU GET MY “UNDERCOVER BOSS” THEORY.
I've joked before about looking at society almost like an enormous episode of Undercover Boss.
Imagine walking around without knowing exactly how all the organisations, agencies, corporations, media companies and institutions connect behind the scenes.
You're watching the shopfront.
The television advertisement.
The police campaign.
The radio station.
The transport network.
The casino.
The government department.
The app.
The website.
Meanwhile the machinery behind each organisation is considerably larger than the logo on the door.
That doesn't mean one secret boss controls everything.
It means modern society is an extraordinary web of governments, contractors, advertisers, media organisations, researchers, corporations and institutions constantly influencing one another.
The genuinely interesting story is often not conspiracy.
It's structure.
And structure can be weird enough without adding a secret volcano headquarters.
T — THE CROWN IS A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF WHY WORDS MATTER.
I've previously played with another provocative connection: police swear allegiance connected to the Crown, while Melbourne also has Crown Casino sitting rather conspicuously beside the Yarra.
Same word.
Very different Crown.
For clarity, the constitutional Crown refers to the sovereign/state in Australia's system of government. It isn't an oath to Crown Casino.
I know.
Disappointing.
For approximately twelve seconds we had the greatest plot twist in Victorian constitutional history.
But this is precisely the point I'm making.
Language creates associations.
Advertising creates associations.
Brands deliberately create associations.
Our brains then happily continue the work after everybody has gone home.
Sometimes that's insightful.
Sometimes it's funny.
Sometimes it's completely accidental.
The responsible thing is knowing which category we're dealing with.
A — ADVERTISING, THEN, ISN'T NECESSARILY THE ENEMY.
Which brings me back to ad blockers.
Blocking malicious pop-ups?
Fair enough.
Blocking invasive tracking?
Completely understandable.
Blocking advertising that makes a webpage practically unusable?
I have sympathy.
But automatically blocking every advertisement everywhere deserves a little more thought.
If you're enjoying a free independent website, app, creator or publication funded primarily by advertising, allowing reasonable ads is one small way of contributing to the thing you're consuming.
Because somebody ultimately pays.
Subscription.
Donation.
Government funding.
Advertising.
Your data.
A sponsor.
Or some poor website owner staring at Google Analytics at 2:14am wondering why 40,000 people read his article and his advertising revenue bought approximately one McChicken.
U — UNDERNEATH THE SALES PITCH MAY BE SOMETHING ELSE.
Public-service advertising especially deserves attention.
Road safety.
Family violence.
Mental health.
Bushfire preparation.
Emergency information.
Crime prevention.
Public health.
These advertisements aren't necessarily asking you to buy something.
They're attempting to change behaviour or communicate information.
And sometimes their real effect doesn't happen when you hear them.
It happens later.
You're driving.
Something occurs.
A familiar sentence returns to your head.
Suddenly the advertisement you barely noticed six months earlier makes sense.
That's not magic.
That's communication doing its job.
S — SO MAYBE DON'T BLOCK EVERYTHING.
Maybe pay attention.
Maybe ask who paid for the advertisement.
Ask what they're actually selling.
Ask whether they're selling anything at all.
Ask what behaviour they're trying to influence.
Ask what information sits behind the thirty-second version.
And when something seems connected, investigate it.
Sometimes you'll uncover something fascinating.
Sometimes you'll discover that two things genuinely are related.
Sometimes you'll discover you've found a pattern nobody deliberately created.
And occasionally you'll spend three hours investigating something only to discover that Crown Casino does not secretly administer the Victorian constitutional monarchy.
Research can be cruel.
But here's the larger point:
Advertising is part commerce, part psychology, part culture and part communication.
You might hate the interruption.
You might skip it.
You might block it.
But every now and then an advertisement contains something worth noticing.
And if you weren't paying attention?
You might have missed it.
Perhaps that's the strangest beauty of advertising:
The message can be sitting right in front of everybody.
Some people hear an ad.
Some hear noise.
Some remember it years later.
And some start digging.
If you've experienced a Victoria Police roadside drug-testing interaction resembling the radio advertisement I've described, comment below. I'm genuinely interested in comparing people's experiences—not to declare the theory proven, but to see whether the pattern I noticed appears in other people's stories.
Because sometimes finding the answer begins with noticing the question.
And if you found something else hiding in this article...
Well.
Maybe you've just demonstrated my entire point.
Pay attention.
There's usually more than one message on the page.
#SmileForKyle
#Smile4Kyle
#Advertising
#Marketing
#AdBlocking
#VictoriaPolice
#RoadSafety
#MediaLiteracy
#KyleXYTaus
WATCH THIS SPACE...
There's more to this.
Obviously.
There always seems to be.
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