Shelf Appeal – Why Do We Buy Leaders Like Products?
- Brainz Magazine

- Oct 6
- 13 min read
Oksana Didyk is a strategist and researcher in political branding and customer insights. Author of "The Master Watching Over – The Strange Comfort of Strongmen," she explores leadership patterns in the Middle East and beyond, advising organizations on global strategy.

We like to think we choose leaders with reason and careful thought, but much like picking cereal off a supermarket shelf, our decisions are often driven by instinct, packaging, and emotional cues. This article by Oksana Didyk reveals how political branding uses the same tricks as consumer marketing, and why contradictions lie at the heart of leadership appeal.

Introduction: The paradox of choice
Walk into any supermarket and you’ll notice something strange. The shelves aren’t just filled with products, they’re filled with people. Smiling models on cereal boxes. Athletes on sports drinks. A chef’s portrait stamped on frozen meals. Your brain has been trained, aisle after aisle, to trust a face. To choose one person over another as the stand-in for quality, taste, or safety.
The same thing happens when you scroll through a dating app. Swipe left, swipe right, instinctive judgments about who looks trustworthy, attractive, or “worth trying.” It’s fast, it’s emotional, and it’s rarely about rational analysis. You don’t read the entire biography or fact-check the hobbies listed. You look, you feel, you decide.
Politics works the same way, though we like to pretend it doesn’t. Leaders are packaged like products, presented in rows, and we reach for one almost as quickly as we pick cereal or swipe on Tinder. That’s the contradiction. Democracy is supposed to be about careful, rational choice, yet our brains often decide in seconds.
This isn’t an accident. Campaign strategists and brand advisors know that voters rely on shortcuts, or heuristics, when making decisions. A familiar logo, a slogan that feels right, a color that reassures, a face that triggers trust. The mechanics are nearly identical to consumer branding. The difference is that instead of buying toothpaste or choosing a date, you’re selecting someone to represent your future, your identity, and your collective destiny.
And yet, the contradiction deepens. We demand authenticity from leaders, while rewarding those most carefully packaged. We claim to weigh substance, but respond more strongly to shelf appeal. We insist we don’t vote on looks, while decades of research, from ballot order effects to subconscious judgments of faces, show otherwise.
So, what happens when we admit that politics has a supermarket logic? That leaders are chosen like groceries and judged like dating profiles? The answer isn’t just cynical, it’s revealing. By looking at politics through the lens of consumer psychology and neuromarketing, we can see why certain leaders rise, why others fall, and why contradictions are at the heart of political branding.
Because in the end, the real paradox is this. Leaders are sold as individuals, but consumed as products. And once you recognize that, the democracy aisle starts to look very familiar.
With my modest experience of 15 years in consumer goods branding and a PhD in political branding, in this article I want to take you to the backstage philosophy of the same pattern that makes us choose cereals on the supermarket shelf one day, and political leaders during elections on another day.
Political branding as paradox
At the heart of modern politics lies a strange balancing act. Leaders must be both ordinary and extraordinary, relatable and untouchable, authentic and carefully packaged. It’s not just a challenge of communication, it’s the very paradox that defines political branding.
Think about it. Voters say they want a leader who feels “real.” Someone genuine, unpolished, a person you could imagine chatting with over coffee. Yet the moment the leader appears too ordinary, doubts creep in. Can someone that familiar really lead a nation? We demand authenticity, but reward polish. The same psychology of choice lies in choosing to go to the fancy café for a cup of tea from a tea pack instead of making it at home. The second option feels too plain and lacks the “concept,” as the cup in the first option and the table by the window look more attractive. At the same time, when a tea blend at a new café looks too exotic, we often prefer the good Old Grey by Lipton, but still in a fancy cup.
The contradictions pile up quickly:
One of us, but above us. Candidates are expected to roll up their sleeves at factory visits, eat hot dogs at county fairs, or post family photos on Instagram. Yet they also need to embody authority, gravitas, and vision, qualities that set them apart. Too much “one of us” makes them look small. Too much “above us” makes them seem distant.
Change, but continuity. Campaigns often promise to break with the past, to start fresh, to disrupt. At the same time, they reassure voters with familiar cues, the same patriotic colors, time-tested slogans, recycled archetypes of “strong father” or “wise guide.” The message is, everything will be new, except the things you secretly don’t want to change.
Authenticity, but curation. We admire leaders who appear spontaneous, cracking jokes, speaking off-script, showing emotion. Yet those moments are often rehearsed, staged, or carefully timed. The “unpolished” authenticity is itself a polished product.
Neuromarketing studies show why these contradictions work. Human brains are drawn to clarity and familiarity, but also crave novelty. We want leaders who feel safe, but who also spark curiosity. The most effective political brands are those that can embody both sides of the paradox without breaking. They hold opposites in tension, giving each voter something to connect with, even if for different reasons.
And this is where the supermarket metaphor becomes useful. A new cereal brand may claim to be “unlike anything else,” while still using the same bright colors and fonts we already trust. A dating profile may stress individuality, while still ticking the boxes that signal reliability. Leaders operate in the same way, unique in presentation, familiar in packaging.
The paradox isn’t a flaw of democracy, it’s the engine of political persuasion. Voters want to believe they are making rational choices, but often the choices that resonate most are those that soothe and surprise at the same time. Leaders who master that contradiction aren’t just brands. They become symbols.
Neuromarketing shortcuts: When the brain wants simple answers
If democracy asks us to think deeply, neuromarketing shows us why we rarely do. The human brain is wired for speed, not deliberation. Faced with a wall of choices, whether cereals, dating profiles, or candidates, we rely on shortcuts. Psychologists call them heuristics. Brand strategists call them shelf appeal.
These shortcuts are what allow us to survive the chaos of modern life. Instead of analyzing every ingredient on a package, we trust signals. The color green means healthy. Gold lettering means premium. A smiling face means safe. In politics, the cues aren’t so different:
A blue tie signals calm and trust.
A slogan in bold red signals urgency.
A steady voice signals competence.
Your brain makes these judgments in milliseconds, long before your rational mind has time to weigh policies or compare track records. Neuromarketing research proves this. Eye-tracking shows where our gaze lingers on a ballot. fMRI scans reveal that emotional centers light up before rational ones when judging leaders. We think we’re thinking. Mostly, we’re feeling.
The contradiction is glaring. We insist democracy is built on informed debate. Yet the same brain that reads policy papers is the brain that buys yogurt because the packaging looks “fresh.” Politicians know this, and so do their advisors. That’s why campaigns don’t just argue, they stage. They don’t just inform, they frame.
And these shortcuts work because they align with two deep needs, familiarity and simplicity.
Familiarity: Voters gravitate to what they’ve seen before. The incumbent’s name, the party logo, the familiar color scheme. Even negative exposure increases recognition, and recognition often feels like trust.
Simplicity: A single word can do more than a ten-point plan. Hope. Change. Security. These words bypass analysis and attach directly to emotion.
Supermarkets exploit the same wiring. A new brand rarely says, “Here is our 27-page supply chain analysis.” It says, “Now with more taste.” The promise is simple, clear, and emotional. In politics, the stakes are higher, but the psychology is the same.
This doesn’t mean voters are shallow. It means voters are human. Our brains conserve energy by outsourcing decisions to patterns, signals, and gut feelings. The tragedy, or the genius, of political branding is that it thrives not on our rational ideals, but on the shortcuts our biology demands.
The supermarket shelf metaphor in action
It may sound like a stretch to compare leaders to products, but the parallels are hard to miss. The supermarket aisle is a masterclass in influencing choice, and politics borrows many of the same tricks.
Shelf placement and visibility: In stores, eye-level shelves drive the most sales. Products at the top or bottom often get overlooked. In politics, visibility works the same way. Candidates with prime media coverage, debate center-stage placement, or the first spot on a ballot enjoy a measurable advantage. It isn’t about who is “better,” it’s about who is easiest to see.
Packaging and visual cues: A cereal box doesn’t just protect food, it tells a story. Bright colors, clean fonts, or heritage symbols like family crests send instant signals. In campaigns, logos, typography, and even wardrobe choices function as packaging. A candidate’s brand identity is built as much by visuals as by words.
Promotions and limited-time offers: Supermarkets thrive on urgency, “Buy one, get one free.” “This week only.” Political campaigns often do the same. Appeals like “Last chance to protect our future” or “Only one month left to vote” create a sense of scarcity that motivates action.
Impulse buys and undecided voters: At checkout, shoppers often grab a chocolate bar or magazine without much thought. Elections have their version too. Undecided voters swayed in the final days by a speech, a debate moment, or a social media trend. These aren’t irrational choices, they’re natural responses to fresh cues at the right moment.
Familiar brands vs. challengers: Shoppers often stick to brands they know, even when alternatives may be cheaper or better. Voters too tend to favor familiar names, parties, or archetypes. Newcomers must work twice as hard to earn trust, usually by combining novelty with elements of the familiar.
The supermarket metaphor doesn’t reduce politics to shopping. Instead, it reveals how environments shape choice. Just as store design influences what ends up in your cart, campaign design influences how leaders end up in office. Neither guarantees the outcome, but both tilt the odds.
The key point is not that voters are manipulated, but that all humans are influenced by context. Recognizing these parallels helps us understand why some leaders rise quickly, why others fail to connect, and why contradictions, between packaging and authenticity, choice and guidance, remain central to the story.
When branding backfires
Branding is powerful, but it is also fragile. Just as a product can overpromise and disappoint, political branding can collapse when the contradictions become too visible. The very strategies that create shelf appeal can, under pressure, turn into liabilities.
Over-packaging and the authenticity gap: Shoppers often sense when a product looks “too designed.” A snack marketed as natural but wrapped in layers of glossy plastic raises suspicion. Voters respond in the same way. Leaders who appear excessively polished or rehearsed risk being seen as inauthentic. The packaging shines, but the trust cracks.
Mixed messages: In branding, clarity wins. A product that tries to be premium and budget-friendly at the same time confuses customers. Similarly, when a campaign sends conflicting signals, promising radical change while clinging to tradition, or claiming transparency while controlling every detail, voters notice the mismatch. Confusion often breeds doubt.
Ignoring context: A product that succeeds in one market may flop in another if cultural cues don’t translate. The same holds true in politics. Symbols, colors, or messages that resonate with one audience may feel hollow or tone-deaf with another. That is why some candidates who gain attention in one region, state, or city might be unnoticed in other places. What was meant to unify can end up alienating.
The risk of overexposure: Even strong brands can wear out their welcome. A product that dominates every aisle may start to feel overwhelming. In politics, constant visibility can backfire if it tips into fatigue. Voters may start to question whether the message is genuine or simply everywhere.
The moment of truth: Ultimately, branding creates expectations. If the lived experience of a product or a leader doesn’t match the promise, disappointment sets in quickly. Campaigns can generate momentum, but governing sustains or breaks trust. When the gap between image and reality grows too wide, branding becomes not an asset but a liability.
These backfires don’t mean branding is a mistake. They highlight its limits. Packaging can open the door, but only substance keeps people inside. For campaign managers and advisors, the lesson is clear. Branding amplifies strengths and exposes weaknesses. It cannot replace credibility; it can only frame it.
Why contradictions matter
At first glance, contradictions in political branding may look like weaknesses. Why would a leader need to be both relatable and exceptional, spontaneous and rehearsed, familiar and new? Yet these very tensions are what make political branding work.
Contradictions matter because they mirror the way people think and feel. Human beings live with paradoxes every day. We want security, but we also want freedom. We crave change, but we seek stability. We admire leaders who seem authentic, yet we expect them to carry the polish of professionalism.
Political branding reflects and packages those tensions back to us. Leaders who manage to embody contradictions without collapsing under them become powerful symbols. They appear to stand at the intersection of competing desires, the steady hand and the fresh voice, the insider who promises to disrupt, the relatable figure who still inspires awe.
From a neuromarketing perspective, contradictions keep our attention alive. The brain is drawn to novelty, but it also needs reassurance. When a leader offers both, they activate two systems at once, the comfort of the known and the excitement of the new. That combination is far stickier than either alone.
But contradictions matter for another reason. They reveal the true mechanics of democracy as practiced, not as imagined. We talk about elections as rational, policy-driven debates. In reality, they are arenas where emotions, symbols, and identities compete. The contradiction is not a flaw, it is the core of how people connect to leaders.
Understanding this doesn’t cheapen politics. It makes it more honest. Voters aren’t irrational for choosing leaders like products. They are human, navigating complexity through simple cues, drawn to figures who promise to resolve their own inner contradictions.
For campaign managers and advisors, this is both challenge and opportunity. The task isn’t to eliminate contradictions, but to manage them. A leader can’t be everything to everyone, but they can embody enough paradox to feel resonant across diverse groups. Too much clarity can feel rigid. Too much contradiction can feel fake. The art lies in balance.
In the end, contradictions matter because they are the truth of leadership. Leaders don’t resolve them, they carry them. And it is in that balancing act, messy, imperfect, but deeply human, that political brands take hold.
Strategy lessons for campaign managers and brand advisors
For those building campaigns, contradictions aren’t headaches to hide, they are assets to manage. Leaders succeed not by erasing tensions but by embodying them in ways that feel credible. Here are five principles every strategist should keep in mind, no matter what the context is, general elections, a local political campaign for a specific leader, or gaining the attention of a new board member in the corporate world.
Embrace the paradox: Voters want leaders who are approachable yet inspiring. That’s why effective campaigns show both sides. A candidate in rolled-up sleeves, shaking hands in a factory, and the same candidate delivering a statesmanlike speech on a global stage. The trick is not to resolve the tension but to balance it.
Design shelf appeal consciously: Think like a brand manager. What’s the first impression at a glance, on a debate stage, a ballot, or a social feed? Visual identity matters as much as words. Colors, logos, wardrobe, even posture are signals that shape trust. Ask yourself: If this leader were a product on a shelf, would someone instinctively reach for them?
Simplify the choice: Voters, like shoppers, tire of too many options. Complexity blurs impact. Campaigns that succeed usually anchor themselves in one word, one story, one clear promise. The leader may stand for many things, but the brand should signal one powerful idea.
Use neuromarketing cues ethically: Emotions move people faster than arguments. Color psychology, tone of voice, and symbolic imagery all prime voters before a word is spoken. But overuse of fear or urgency erodes long-term trust. Campaigns that tap into positive emotional anchors, belonging, safety, pride, build more durable appeal.
Test tolerance for contradictions: Some contradictions resonate, “a humble billionaire,” others repel, “a transparent but secretive reformer.” The only way to know is to test. Use focus groups, surveys, and even neuromarketing tools like eye-tracking to see how messages land. The question isn’t only what do people believe, but which tensions will they forgive, or even find attractive?
The ultimate lesson is that contradictions are not weaknesses to eliminate. They are the raw material of political branding. Leaders who can embody opposites in balance, human and heroic, steady and bold, familiar and fresh, create the kind of shelf appeal that endures beyond a single election cycle. For advisors, the challenge is not to flatten the paradox but to frame it.
Takeaway: Awareness is power
Whether we are pushing a shopping cart or casting a ballot, our brains use the same shortcuts. We trust familiar faces, reach for simple signals, and lean on shelf appeal when the choices feel overwhelming. That isn’t a flaw in democracy, it’s human nature.
But awareness changes everything. For voters, recognizing these patterns means pausing before the impulse grab. It means asking, Am I drawn to the packaging or the product? Am I responding to the promise or the proof? Awareness doesn’t remove emotion from politics, but it allows us to see when we’re being nudged.
For campaign managers and brand advisors, awareness means using contradictions wisely. Leaders can’t be one-dimensional, but neither can they be everything to everyone. The art of political branding lies in holding opposites, approachable yet authoritative, authentic yet prepared, familiar yet new, without losing credibility. Shelf appeal is not about hiding contradictions, but about framing them so they resonate.
In the end, democracy and the marketplace share a truth. Choice is rarely about the full set of facts. It’s about which stories feel right, which signals reassure, and which contradictions we’re willing to accept. Leaders succeed when they embody those tensions in a way that feels human.
So next time you pick up a box of cereal, swipe on a dating app, or listen to a candidate’s speech, notice the parallels. The patterns are everywhere. And once you see them, you can never quite unsee them. That awareness, simple, human, and powerful, is what turns shelf appeal from manipulation into understanding.
Read more from Oksana Didyk
Oksana Didyk, Strategist, PhD in Political Branding, Author
Oksana Didyk is a strategist and researcher in political branding, customer insights, and the curious ways people choose everything from leaders to lattes. With a PhD in political branding, she has spent years examining how power, trust, and image are manifested in the Middle East and across global markets. Author of The Master Watching Over – The Strange Comfort of Strongmen, she blends sharp analysis with storytelling to reveal why people long for certain kinds of leaders, even when logic suggests otherwise.
She is also the founder of The Didyk Consultancy, where she advises organizations on global strategy, market entry, and branding. Her mission, no decision left unexplored, because behind every “yes” is a reason worth knowing.









