I don’t dislike brands. But there are a few forms of marketing that irritate me. Top of the list is cold calling from companies when I’m eating my dinner – closely followed by those annoying pop-up ads that scroll down across the screen just as I’m about to click my cursor on something else. Other irritants are brands in the classroom, confusing product variants and checkout assistants who offer me a half-price chocolate orange when I’m buying a newspaper.

Oh, and then there’s paid-for product placement in TV and films – which is the subject of a big debate in Britain right now. After a long tradition of restricting brand inclusion in TV shows, we are on the verge of a rule relaxation which will let producers and broadcasters sell product integration for the first time.

In countries where product placement is rife, we Brits must seem terribly quaint for even bothering to argue about it. But my view is that the argument in favor of brand integration is flawed for a range of reasons.

So let’s start with the pro-lobby, whose argument has been cogently presented in the U.K. by John McVay, head of indie producer trade body PACT. In a letter to The Guardian newspaper in January, McVay took the line that producers need the extra cash which could be generated by permitting paid-for product placement (as opposed to the existing system where products can be used for free only as appropriate props).

With the traditional ad model under threat from TiVo-style technology, McVay and his allies believe product placement is a way of ensuring that advertiser money still flows round the system. Without product placement, this argument goes, marketers will desert TV and head for media which are prepared to sacrifice themselves on the altar of brand pollution.

Critics of product placement fall into two camps. Firstly, doctors and teachers who argue that paid-for product placement will help perpetuate the problems we face with diet – by further glamorizing fizzy drinks and fatty snack foods. Secondly, editorial purists – who say it will erode the quality of output.

McVay’s response to all this is twofold. Firstly, that it underestimates the audience’s ability to make informed choices. Secondly, that these arguments are overly cynical about producers ‘who care more than anyone about creativity and editorial independence.’

Let’s stifle our smirks for a moment and assume that the latter is true. Even taking this presumption for granted, however, the reality is more complex than McVay suggests. For a start, he is talking as though producers are the final arbiters of what goes on-air. But the last time I looked it was broadcasters calling the shots. Forgive the cynicism, but I’ve seen nothing in the last couple of years to suggest that the U.K.’s commercial broadcasters are capable of acting with any restraint in the field of product integration.

Many producers, faced with the choice of winning a commission or not, are unlikely to cry foul about editorial integrity. At best, they’ll talk themselves into the view that having products in their show adds to its realism. The only exceptions to this scenario are the entertainment juggernauts – but I can’t imagine the producers of shows like Got Talent are short of cash.

Even if McVay ceded this point, he might argue that viewers will determine what constitutes acceptable brand integration. This ‘trust the punters’ argument is trotted out by marketers whenever they want to relax regulation. Implicit in it is the idea that those of us who don’t trust audiences are either patronizing or state-centrists, just like those horrible doctors and teachers who are trying to stop children having fun.

But the fact is that many of us are impressionable. A key part of being a 21st century parent is managing children’s expectations and controlling their consumption against the backdrop of having too much to do. This job is undoubtedly made more difficult if the judges of a top entertainment show pretend they all like to drink Coca-Cola. You’d never see Coke pay to place one of its products in a shock doc about a 20-stone teenager with bad breath. So the message reinforced through association is that Coke makes you thin, beautiful, talented and gives you nice teeth.

Marketers will insist that all that is happening is that viewers are being encouraged to switch between brands. But in the U.K., where 82% of school-packed lunches supplied by parents are deemed to be too high in sugar, salt and saturated fats (Leeds University report), it seems reckless to relax product placement.

This halo effect is also present in the context of drama or film. But there’s an added issue – which is that brands interrupt story and character development. Producers may be in denial on this point because they need the money – but every time the central character looks at their (branded) watch or revs their (branded) vehicle, it creates a disconnection in viewers’ minds.

In the context of TV drama, you might argue that product placement is fine – because it reflects reality. But you really need to distinguish between products being used to reflect reality and paid-for product placement. There are products in my house – but their labels don’t all face one direction like in The Truman Show. And some – god forbid – are cheap or own-brand. Likewise my car is trashed and never clean. There’s a chaos about brand placement in my life that paid-for product placement on TV doesn’t reflect.

It’s McVay’s job to fight for indie producers – so his position is understandable. But the section of his argument I have least time for is this: ‘Most EU states have lifted the ban on product placement. In a recession, when broadcasters’ budgets are shrinking, any source of new investment must be considered. If those groups opposed have any ideas on how to raise the money needed, we’d love to hear from them.’

Firstly, there’s that reference to the EU. Well Germans make great cars, Italians are great footballers and the French do great food. But there’s not a huge amount they can teach the Brits about TV. To me, it seems odd that producers should want to jeopardize a model which satisfies domestic viewers and has also made U.K. content extremely exportable.

Secondly, there’s McVay’s presumption that producers raising money is an absolute priority – more than tackling obesity or managing social expectations. But why shouldn’t producers share the social burden like everyone else? If producers want to make money out of brand communications, then why not set up a dedicated division and make some ads? Or launch a shopping channel. Or make branded online content.

Of course, it’s possible by now you’ll have mentally grouped me with doctors and teachers. But the truth is I have allies in high places. For example, the U.K. government is pro-product placement, except for Health Secretary Andy Burnham. His current view is that product placement ‘exacerbates the decline in trust in British television and contaminates our programs. As a viewer, I don’t want to feel the script has been written by the marketing director.’

Even more delicious is the fact that U.K. advertisers are hesitant about paid-for product placement. Commenting in January, Bob Wootton, media and advertising director at U.K. advertiser trade body ISBA said: ‘Advertisers are concerned that broadcasters will drive them into expensive paid-for product placement. Advertisers paying more to place their products might then naturally expect to see them placed more prominently and it is this increased visibility that may well increase viewer complaints.’