Once we know something, it becomes hard to imagine what it feels like not to know it.
More quotesFirst, name the embarrassment. Then make it diagnosable. Then sell the tube.
It is one of marketing’s darkest bits of genius: not meeting demand, but teaching people which part of ordinary life should now cause anxiety. A vague smell becomes a social catastrophe with a scientific-sounding label. Normal skin acquires twelve defects. An inbox becomes a moral scorecard that, happily, requires a monthly subscription to improve.
Naming is not automatically sinister. “Burnout” can make a damaging experience discussable. A term for an accessibility barrier can reveal a problem everyone previously treated as individual clumsiness. Good names let people recognise a real cost and coordinate a response.
But there is a sharp ethical difference between revealing pain and manufacturing shame. If the category survives only by telling healthy people they are secretly inadequate, its revenue comes from farming insecurity rather than curing it. Customers must keep finding new reasons to dislike themselves.
The commercial test should be nastier than “Could this create a market?” Would the promise remain fair if buyers understood exactly how their attention was being directed? Does the named condition cause harm without the product, or merely become noticeable after the advert? Does the remedy improve life, or reset the standard so another defect appears next month?
Brands teach people what to see. That power can give shape to a genuine problem—or turn a harmless human variation into recurring revenue.
“We created a category” sounds splendid on an awards entry. Sometimes it means, “We taught a million perfectly healthy people to inspect themselves for defects.” Keep the champagne corked until we know which one.