Here's a factoid you've seen sometime over the last few years: between the 1970s and 2000's, the number of ads big-city dwellers in the US are exposed to has gone from 500 a day to 5000 a day . Now that's an expert estimate, but an estimate, and for big cities — and it should be read with the caution, "plus or minus a lot."

            Still, it's clear that Americans encounter a large and increasing number of ads per day, and I want to put that large fact into larger contexts.

            First, the increase in advertising accompanies more generally intensified marketing: from the potentially dangerous obstacle courses in your local supermarket — rapid evacuation would be a real problem with all the in-aisle "points of sale" — to telemarketing cold-calls from increasingly desperate small business and increasingly shameless big ones.

            Second, for all its triviality, all that marketing is sending information in the direction of consumers, and that information joins a larger volume in the 21st-century data deluge.

            Third, that mass of data presents constant choices, starting with whether or not to pay attention.

            At one time, "cultural competence" could be flippantly defined as "not having to read the instructions." Then it became "knowing which instructions you have to read," and now it's "maintaining some confidence in guessing what to ignore." Nowadays, cultural competence is becoming impossible in terms of instructions, warning labels, and legal contracts (e.g., with computer downloads), and difficult to achieve for those who can't afford to miss a good offer to save money (e.g., with coupons, frequent-flyer miles, sales).

            And finally, this deluge of data reinforces what Barry Schwartz has called The Paradox of Choice, the main title of his 2004 book, subtitled, Why More Is Less ("How the Culture of Abundance Robs Us of Satisfaction").

            We should not and cannot read all the ads, legal agreements, information labels, or even all the warning labels — check out a new stepladder or instructions with contact-lens cleaner; but what opportunities do we miss when we ignore ads or other marketing, what dangers do we run if we fail to read the small print?

            Ignoring such information can make people feel anxious and guilty. Reading it can make you feel even more anxious and/or guilty because inducing mild anxiety and guilt is a function of marketing. (Early in October I found myself worrying while shopping because I had failed to buy Halloween candy. Halloween, for God's sake!)

            We live in an Age of Anxiety, and guilt, and the hucksters consciously and effectively add to anxiety and guilt. As do politicians — much less consciously — who claim that every increase in choice is a favor they're doing us.

            All that choice, you lucky consumers! If you screw up, it's your fault! You haven't done all the (tension-producing, unpaid) work needed to choose wisely in your job as a consumer.

            I'm an extreme case myself, but at the extreme of a trend. I'm responding to the data deluge by trying to ignore the most aggressive portions: using an ad-filtering program on the Internet, throwing out unopened the ads and almost all of the charity appeals, putting my phone down on robocalls and going about my business — etc.

            (When telemarketing first started out, MAD Magazine suggested, among other ploys, sweetly asking the telemarketer, "Can you hold?" and putting the phone down and moving on. I've worked a phone bank, so I can't bring myself to do that — but I do pass along the idea.)

            When I shop, I patronize fairly small stores I know; I bring a list, stick to basics, and get the hell out of the maze as fast as I can. For the multiplying worthy appeals both charitable and political: I stick to the familiar ones and almost match their multiplying with my dividing up — reducing for each group — my contributions.

            I'd like to spend more and do my but to help the US economy: but intellectually I know to avoid rewarding the hucksters with my business, and emotionally — well, like most people, the more anxious I get, the more tightly I hold onto my money.

            It's a vicious cycle, and I think the only hope is to speed it up until advertising becomes a much smaller business. So, my fellow citizens: Turn Off; Tune Out — and stick to your shopping lists.