This practice isn't as odious and threatening to democracy as corruption in journalism, but it still falls on the wrong side of the "Don't Be Evil" line.
At the Blue Ginger restaurant in Wellesley, Mass., one typical East-West fusion offering is "Miso Risotto with Shrimp Mousse and Roulade of Seared Monkfish." With its fancy name and $28 price tag, diners might expect the seafood is all fresh off the boat.
But the shrimp that gourmet chef Ming Tsai uses in that entree and others is frozen. And that's no coincidence: Mr. Tsai cut a deal with a big supplier of frozen shrimp, which pays more than $550,000 a year to sponsor both of Mr. Tsai's TV cooking shows. The company also sells him frozen shrimp at "below cost." Under the deal, the underwriter asks that Mr. Tsai features shrimp on two or three episodes.
As we've seen on countless occasions, the recipient of the kickback doesn't think the money affects his judgment one bit:
"For me, frozen is a tastier shrimp," says Mr. Tsai, ... "Fresh is not as fresh as frozen, I think."
Huh?
So what's the big deal if you pay $28 for frozen shrimp? If it tastes good, who cares? Apparently it is a big deal for the corporate sponsor, because if consumers believed frozen was truly better than fresh then the company wouldn't have to pay half a million bucks to tilt the scales -- the product would sell itself.
And there's nothing wrong with buying half a million bucks worth of advertising to tell your story, either. But marketing crosses the Don't Be Evil line when it's done in secret. When the corporation co-opts the trusted chef into shilling products without disclosure, it's deceptive to the consumer.