Mint should match the moment

Toothpaste has apparently decided that every human occasion calls for being punched in the mouth by an Arctic glacier.

Morning? Mint. Bedtime? Mint. Sensitive teeth? Gentler mint, which is still mint wearing slippers.

The excerpt does not prove that peppermint keeps anyone awake. It does expose a daft design habit: judging a sensation without judging its moment. “Fresh” sounds marvellous in a brief because nobody specifies fresh at 6.45am or fresh at 11.52pm while trying not to wake the baby. Adjectives are cheap when divorced from clocks.

Products collect these impossible wish lists. Energising and calming. Premium and accessible. Attention-grabbing and reassuring. Every word wins alone; together they describe a luxury air horn playing a lullaby.

Context changes the job. Bright light helps somebody inspect a wound and makes a recovery room feel like an interrogation. A sharp alert is useful when the boiler is flooding and infuriating when an app has discovered “news”. A heavy control can feel reassuring on a workbench and bloody-minded in the hand of someone with arthritis.

Yet research often asks whether people like the smell, sound or weight while seated in a neutral room at three in the afternoon. Congratulations: you now know what toothpaste should be like when nobody is brushing their teeth.

Test the sequence. What happened just before? What must happen next? What state is the person in? Familiar mint at night may be soothing because habit says “day finished”. Or it may feel like gargling a fire alarm. Either result is more useful than a universal preference score.

My proposed evening flavour is “nothing much”. Marketing may struggle with the launch film.

Behavioural principles

Behavioural ideas at play in this post

Short, plain-English explanations of the principles behind this post, with links to related books and examples in the archive.