“I’m sorry to sound cynical but it is the ego-driven nonsense of brand managers who’ve forgotten that their brand isn’t part of the consumer’s life—it’s just the thing they clean their teeth with every night.”
I laughed out loud when I heard that quote in an interview with marketer Mark Ritson. Because it’s painfully true. And because I’ve been on both sides of it.
As someone who’s worked across branding, marketing, and communication strategy for years, I’ve seen this play out more times than I can count.
You’re in a room, mapping out customer journeys, and suddenly the conversation shifts from solving a problem to “How can we make them feel more emotionally connected to our toothpaste?”
And look, I’m all for emotional resonance, but if we’re pretending our product is some profound, identity-shaping part of a consumer’s daily ritual when really, it’s just a tube of minty goo next to a tap, we’ve missed the plot.
Most of the time, our brand is a background character in someone else’s movie.
We Want to Matter More Than We Do
The truth is, marketers are meaning-makers. We’re storytellers. And stories need stakes, protagonists, and transformation. So we try to make our product or service the hero.
We say things like “we’re not just a bank, we’re a movement” or “this muesli bar is a rebellion against ordinary.” We want the work to feel important.
But that desire can quickly become delusion.
We start projecting our own aspirations onto the consumer. They’ll wake up and think of us. We’ll be part of their morning routine. We’ll be the spark of joy in their otherwise grey existence.
But most people just want to brush their teeth, not write a love letter to their toothbrush. Most of the time, they don’t even remember the brand they used. And that’s okay.
In fact, that’s the starting point for better marketing. When we remember that people don’t wake up thinking about us, we stop trying to make everything precious. We become sharper, clearer, and more useful. Instead of begging for attention, we earn it.
The Toothbrush Test
Here’s a simple exercise: think about how many brands you interacted with before midday. Your phone, your car, your coffee, your breakfast, your shoes, your inbox.
Now count how many of them you felt a genuine emotional connection with. Probably not many.
There’s a great term in marketing: low involvement category. It refers to things people buy with minimal effort or emotion, think dishwashing tablets, bin liners, or yes, toothpaste.
We forget this. We start crafting 40-page decks on our “Why” when the customer just wants to know: does this get the job done? Is it good value? Will I regret buying it?
Most of us live in low involvement categories and pretend we don’t.
When Ego Creeps In
What that quote captures so well is the creeping ego behind so much brand work.
It’s not driven by the consumer, it’s driven by us. By our need to feel significant. By our desire to make a mark. And hey, that’s human. We all want to feel like our work matters.
And I’m one to talk. I’ve specifically carved out a career working for industries that try to make a difference – arts, government, technology. I think that’s an admirable goal.
But marketing becomes ineffective when we confuse the work with the outcome. When we start designing for ourselves, not the customer.
When we imagine they’re paying rapt attention to our every post, every tagline, every new limited-edition packaging design, when in reality, they’re half-asleep, reaching for whatever’s on sale.
The uncomfortable truth is this: most customers don’t care about our brand nearly as much as we want them to. So our job must be to serve better.
Be Useful, Not Self-Important
That’s not to say you should ditch your brand purpose or kill creativity. Quite the opposite. But the most impactful brands I’ve seen – the ones that really stick – are clear, grounded, and relentlessly useful.
They don’t try to become something they’re not. They don’t pretend they’re solving world peace when they’re selling mouthwash. But they do deliver real value. They know their place in the customer’s life and do that job exceptionally well.
Think of the brands you do remember: the ones that save you time, make your day easier, or bring a tiny bit of joy. Not because they yelled louder, but because they showed up in a way that mattered to you.
They didn’t try to be the hero of your story. They just helped you get on with your day.
The Reality Check
If you’re a brand manager or a marketer reading this and feeling a bit attacked, I get it.
I’ve been there. I’ve written the overwrought mission statement. I’ve put the brand story above the customer’s needs. I’ve fallen in love with the brand I’ve built and forgotten that, to most people, it’s just a bottle, a button, a barcode.
But I’ve also learned that the best marketing is humble. It doesn’t posture. It listens. It solves. It respects that the customer’s life is full, and that we’re lucky if we earn a small corner of it.
Sometimes, the best thing your brand can be… is the thing they reach for without thinking. And that’s not a failure. That’s success.
