I’ve never been interested in advertising.

I’m kind of like Lloyd Dobler in the movie “Say Anything,” explaining what he plans — or doesn’t plan — to do with his life to his girlfriend’s father. “I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career,” he says. “I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don’t want to do that.” Well, I don’t want to do any of that, either, which is probably how I landed in journalism, a profession with a long history of attracting people with no business savvy. In any case, I view all advertisements as useless hype, designed to trick me into spending money on stuff I don’t need, and I ignore them.

Given this attitude, why do I find the AMC television drama “Mad Men” so intriguing? After all, the show is set in a 1960s advertising agency, and it’s not like I’ve ever been particularly interested in the advertising agencies of that era, or any era. Most of the characters aren’t particularly likeable; my favorite character in Don Draper, the creative partner at Sterling Cooper Advertising Agency, who seems like a decent enough person, but also happens to be a serial philanderer. (Jon Hamm, who plays Draper, has a beautiful voice, and so it’s possible that he’s really a terrible person and I just can’t see it because I love listening to him talk.) I feel sorry for Draper’s wife, played by January Jones, who is clearly unsatisfied with her suburban homemaker existence, but she’s not especially likeable, either, referring to her young son as a “liar” and always seeming completely uninterested in what her children are doing. Then there’s Peggy Olson (Elisabeth Moss), the sole female copywriter, who had a child last year and gave the baby to her sister to raise. I like Peggy, who’s smart and talented, but her abandonment and apparent lack of interest in her own child leaves me a little cold. And then there’s Pete Campbell (Vincent Kartheiser), the ambitious young account manager, who is competitive and sneaky and entitled. He’s a good character, fascinating in a reptilian sort of way, but I don’t like him at all.

Nevertheless, the show is engrossing, perhaps because it so incisively depicts a world where the few scruples anyone has are easily cast aside. These characters are constantly faced with big moral questions; what’s remarkable is that they so consistently make the wrong choices. The show is a period piece, set in a world where there’s no such thing as sexual harassment and people smoke and drink in the office whenever they want, but in some ways it’s not so different from the world of today. People still work too hard, and distance themselves from their families and the people they care about through foolish actions, and engage in behavior that is, at best, amoral, and at worst, completely immoral. When Draper is told to cut loose a loyal client, he protests, but does it. That’s the way it often goes for these people: They know something is wrong, but do it anyway, often because it’s part of their job. Even though the show is set in the past, it raises questions about the present, and why we act the way we do.

The characters are workaholics, but it’s still kind of amazing that anyone gets anything done at Sterling Cooper, given the amount of liquor consumed. The other night a friend of mine made me a dirty martini, and I nursed it for a while until he said, “I won’t be offended if you don’t finish it.” Relieved, I set it on the counter. It made me think I wouldn’t last a day at a place like Sterling Cooper. Which is probably for the best.