(FORTUNE Magazine) – About eight or nine years ago, I was strolling through my supermarket's spice aisle when a container of ground black pepper, sold under a brand name I no longer recall, caught my eye. It was very ordinary in all respects but one: The container's label featured a burst that read, "Sodium-free!"

Salt-free pepper--imagine that! It's certainly an original sales pitch, sort of like putting "Lactose-free!" on a bottle of Evian. It isn't clear why the manufacturer's marketing people failed to note that their pepper was also preservative-, cholesterol-, sugar-, caffeine-, and fat-free, all of which was just as true (and just as irrelevant) as the sodium claim. Maybe they were too busy whipping up a burst for their salt-free paprika.

This phenomenon can best be described as "So what?" marketing. Okay, so your pepper is salt-free--so what? It may be a truism that nobody has ever gone broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public, but "So what?" marketing goes too far, crossing the line between disingenuous and insulting. The quintessential example was foisted a few years back by Domino Sugar, whose packages carried a burst proclaiming that the product had "only" 16 calories per teaspoon, thereby eliciting a huge "So what?" from anyone with the temerity to think that sugar might not be the ideal centerpiece for a low-calorie diet. (Interestingly, nobody wants to take credit for this campaign now: Calls to Domino and to the Sugar Association found representatives of both organizations insisting that the initiative originated in the other's camp.)

Do marketers really think the public is this stupid? Evidently so, because the consumer landscape is littered with "So what?" marketing thrusts geared toward a single-digit IQ. One of the best current examples is Nestle Quik Banana Milk, which debuted in 1990 and by November of 1996 began sporting a burst claiming the exalted mantle of "America's favorite banana milk."

All together now: So what? The state of the banana milk market isn't exactly a hot topic in the business press, so it's difficult to know what to make of Nestle's claim, although one gathers from the "America's favorite" wording that the category must be a veritable hotbed of cutthroat competition, right up there with the cola wars. But when Terri Johnson, division and brand affairs manager for Nestle Beverage, was queried about the basis for the claim, she could not cite any supporting data or even name a single competing brand. Undeterred, she nonetheless maintained that "since Quik is the No. 1 branded banana-flavored milk, that's what qualifies it as being 'America's favorite.' "

A chat with a customer-service rep at Nestle's toll-free hot line was no more satisfying. The burst, she said, "is on there because they're telling you it's good." Pressed for more details, she put the call on hold, spent three minutes conferring with a superior, then came back on the line and explained, "My supervisor said it's for marketing purposes and that it has been recognized as America's favorite." By whom? "I don't know," she said, before ratcheting up the sass in her voice and adding, "By the people of America!"

As it happens, this statement is probably accurate, if only by default. Information from Product Alert magazine indicates that only four other banana-flavored milks have hit the market in the past five years, three of them from regional dairies whose distribution muscle and shelf presence are undoubtedly inferior to Nestle's, leaving Quik a relatively unimpeded path to the summit of Mount Banana. But is this really anything worth crowing about?

The question was put into useful perspective by Tom Judge, editor of the trade journal Dairy Times, who confirmed that Nestle is standing atop more of a molehill than a mountain. "It's not a big deal to be the No. 1 banana milk--it's like being the tallest midget," he explained, an unspoken "So what?" implicit in his tone. "It reminds me of a real estate guy I know who took over the sales of a property with 17 townhouses on it and put up a big banner that said, 'Only 17 left!' "

Time will tell if this real estate fellow ends up receiving a job offer from Nestle, but for now it seems safe to say that we haven't seen the last of "So what?" sales pitches. Indeed, although Quik Banana Milk is not, alas, sodium-free, an examination of its ingredients suggests that Nestle may be overlooking a crucial marketing angle: The second item listed is "high-fructose corn syrup and/or sugar," which, if Domino is any guide, means that America's favorite banana milk might just be touted as a low-cal beverage sometime soon.

PAUL LUKAS, author of Inconspicuous Consumption, obsesses over the details of consumer culture so you don't have to.