Perhaps one of the most sought-after mental and physical states by consumer brands and advertising agencies is emotion. For over a century, consumer brands have been seeking ‘emotional appeal.’ Triggering this is the premise that people are mostly emotional rather than logical or rational. Apparently, this is why they respond more to emotional narratives. The Ancient Greeks called this ‘pathos’.

Pathos is a vital tool in advertising, art and politics – based, as already mentioned, on the assumption that people react more strongly to words and images that appeal to their emotional side. However, there has never been a conclusive study that convincingly substantiates this assumption – even if some psychologists agree with it. Yet, it was this assumption that led to the Age of Reason or the Enlightenment in Europe and the US in the 18th and 19th centuries.

The Enlightenment was an intellectual movement against superstition and religious obscurantism. The outcome of the movement included the rise of science, industrialisation, urbanisation, the emergence of the middle classes, the demystification of religion and the establishment of models of education aimed at imparting the skills and thought processes necessary to advance a ‘modern and rational age’.

Yet, even when influential sociologists such as Max Weber were announcing the rise of ‘rationalised societies’ – where old values and traditions had been substituted with rationality and logic – pathos survived. Initially glorified by the so-called ‘Romantics’ in their literature and art, pathos eventually found its way into advertising in the twenties.

Entire societies were shocked by the carnage witnessed during World War I (1914-18) – an event some scholars believed was caused by the relentless march of the principles of the Enlightenment. In fact, the early 20th-century ‘anti-Enlightenment’ lot were of the view that a strict emphasis on science and rationality had cut people off from their ‘inherent spiritual selves’ and turned them into unfeeling, amoral beings. Sigmund Freud found this to be the reason behind the widespread ‘neurosis’ he observed in large sections of society. For Freud, this state of mind was the result of the constant battle between repressed and internalised emotions and rational exteriors.

Until the twenties, advertising was largely rational and logical, using a style of rhetoric or discourse the ancient Greeks called ‘logos.’ Simply put, it meant presenting a point of view through deductive reasoning or through logic and facts backed by data. This kind of advertising was called ‘functional’. We still have functional advertising that just talks about a product’s features.

A product, however, becomes a brand through pathos. Freud’s nephew, Edward Bernays, was a pioneer of this. Inspired by his uncle’s theories, Bernays believed that advertising should appeal to the repressed emotions and desires of consumers, rather than speak to their rational exterior. He rose to fame in 1929 when he paid women to smoke a particular brand of cigarettes in public in order to promote it among women. It was a radical idea because women who smoked then were often frowned upon. But Bernays hypothesised that after achieving the right to vote (in the US), most urban American women would be both confident and itching to gain acceptance in non-domestic spaces. Bernays handed the cigarette brand to ‘confident’ and stylishly dressed women and called the cigarettes the women were holding ‘torches of freedom’. Smoking among women skyrocketed. The brand had struck a chord in their desire to be seen as confident (yet beautiful) and as socially acceptable as a man who smoked.

After this instance of pathos in advertising, it never looked back; it continued to strengthen and evolve. Then the idea of ethos began attaching itself to the mix. Ethos is when a person considered to be respectable and ethical delivers advice or a speech. These are appreciated because of the ethical status of the person delivering them. Ethos is the perceived ethical make-up of a person or even of a nation.

But since ethos is largely perceived and not scientifically measured, it often produces stereotypes and ‘mythos’. Germans are humourless but hardworking. The Chinese are innovative but robotic. Americans are enterprising but naive. Africans are lazy and violent. Pakistanis are overly emotional. I can go on and on. These are stereotypes concocted from a perceived national ethos – and none have ever been scientifically substantiated.

An advertisement that shows a doctor recommending a toothpaste brand – following images of bleeding gums – is actually ethos delivering pathos. Ethos in this case is the doctor who is instinctively perceived as an expert. The pathos is fear of a disease, which the toothpaste brand (recommended by an ethical professional) will cure. It doesn’t matter if the doctor is actually a model; their white coat and ‘professional’ tone of voice is enough. Logos kick in when the doctor figure (in a lab) begins to talk about a so-and-so ‘special’ ingredient in the toothpaste.

This kind of ethos-pathos-logos mix is even more effective if the ‘ethical’ protagonist is a known figure. He can be, for example, a ‘respected’ religious figure who has launched a clothing brand aimed at appealing to the religious aesthetics of a group of consumers belonging to a particular social class or strand of faith. Wearing the brand marketed by the admired religious figure (ethos) in itself becomes an act of faith (pathos). There is no need for logos here because it is a case of an ‘emotional purchase’ and not so different from impulsive purchasing, which gave birth to the concept of ‘retail therapy’.

The term retail therapy was first used in 1986 in the US and refers to the act of buying things for yourself in order to feel better. The American journalist Mary Schmich explained retail therapy as a way to ‘nurse psychic ills’. In this respect, brands that use pathos try to directly appeal to emotions that are causing ‘psychic ills’ and present themselves as healers of such ills. They promise ego boosts, confidence and feel-good vibes, as well as words and imagery that can make one smile or shed a few quiet, therapeutic tears.

A few years ago, a TV commercial for Shan spices turned into a huge hit. Two young Pakistani brothers living in the US are preparing a meal to celebrate Eid. The younger brother is emotional because this is the first time the brothers are celebrating Eid without their mother, who used to prepare delicious dishes using Shan spices. The elder brother decides to go out and buy Shan spices to cook with them. When his younger brother comes home and sees the dishes, he is delighted. He then hears his mother’s voice coming from another room. When he enters the room, she is on Skype and says she is here with them. Both brothers dissolve into tears.

According to research, this ad made ‘thousands of women cry’. Tears became the measure of the ad’s and – therefore the brand’s – success. Most brands want their communication to achieve a similar teary-eyed outcome. They want pathos to define their brands. However, engaging emotions is not only about tears; it can also be about smiles or laughter.

Except for a few examples, brands in Pakistan are not very good at humorous communication. A series of Ufone ads a decade ago succeeded in this, but there was not much else before or after that – except maybe many unintentionally funny ads.

Does this mean Pakistanis can’t be funny? Quite the contrary. The problem is that brands start with the largely assumed premise that Pakistanis are very emotional people (hum bohat jazbati qaum hain) and that humour doesn’t count as an emotion. But crying does, as does exhibiting ‘passion,’ especially during a cricket match – even if such displays of passion (painted faces, young folk jumping up and down on sofas, waving the national flag, praying in unison until a six is hit) have become both caricatures and unintentional self-parodies.

The disconcerting aspect of the premise that Pakistanis are very emotional people sometimes crosses over to perceiving them as extreme people. A few years ago, a cola giant proudly announced that Pakistanis were indeed extremists and then tried to turn this on its head by suggesting that Pakistanis are extreme in the good way we treat our guests (the ‘hospitality’ trope) and in how resilient they are (another worn-out trope). The ad was heavily lambasted and had to be taken off the air.

In 2019, a Karachi ad agency approached the owners of a food brand based in Punjab. The owners of the brand were originally from rural Punjab and had established a thriving business in urban Punjab. From this, the agency deduced that the owners would be emotionally attached to ‘folk Punjabi culture’ and designed their campaign on this premise. The company’s owners were rather angry at what they were presented with. They said that while they may have come from a small town, they had taken pains to give themselves and their children a modern education. They added that they wanted to change the stereotypical way Punjabis are perceived.

Brands want their communication to be ‘different’ yet they end up basing their communication on a kind of pathos based on a premise that is disconnected from the prevailing economic, social and political realities. Realities that are making Pakistanis more Darwinian. They have to be on their toes to survive and my own research suggests that most Pakistanis want to be seen as rational, smart, mindful and aware – and not jumpy, emotional or fatalistic – not extreme in any way. Why? Because changing realities require them to be realistic and pragmatic.

Have you ever seen a protagonist in a TV commercial who is rational? A brand message that encourages a rational and moderate disposition? Yet, this is how most Pakistanis want to be seen. Not as folk who cry at the drop of a hat or jump up and down for the heck of it (such desires are fully catered to by TikTok).

Brands need to start exploring how Pakistanis actually want to be seen and understood – and beyond the ‘we are a very emotional people’ premise. Let’s stop glorifying the lack of reason and intelligence. It is by being intelligent, pragmatic and moderate – and not emotional – that people can overcome mounting economic, political and social crises and address the challenges posed by new realities.

Nadeem F. Paracha is Head of Ideas & Research, Adcom Leo Burnett. He is also a published author and weekly columnist for Dawn.