How does it feel to feel?

My Friday afternoon took a rather sinister turn after a fight broke out at Melbourne airport.

A couple of guys walked through the terminal, found their man, and then came a violent eruption of punches until a couple of brave passengers stood between them. The attackers checked themselves, uttered a few choice words about broken noses, and then turned and traced their steps back through the airport.

It was all over quite quickly, but the emotion in the air was intense.

Admiration for the brave men who had put themselves in the middle of the melee, and stopped the fight from going any further. Fear from the female Qantas ground staff who found themselves in the thick of it as the fight spilled behind the customer service desk. And a mixture of anxiety, shock and excitement swirled around the scene, along with pretty much every other emotion you care to name.

And it reminded me of just how emotionally charged we are – as a species, I mean.

Yes, granted we spend a great deal of time thinking – "Cogito ergo sum", as Descartes once famously pronounced – but so much of our existence also relies upon our capacity to feel.

Earlier this week, Adam Ferrier wrote in his blog, Consumer Psychologist, about the Melbourne Cup, gambling and the concept of variable positive reinforcement – the practice of rewarding desired behaviour (for example, gambling) at random times and with random amounts. And he wondered why marketers didn't use this concept more often and not just in promotions, under the pretext that, "If it's the strongest conditioner of human behaviour, shouldn't marketers be trying to understand it and applying its principles in a slightly more sophisticated way"?

Again, what Adam is raising here is the very visceral nature of the human race – ideas that relate to our deepest inward feelings rather than to our intellect.

The automotive industry, for one, has always worked hard on designing a human feel to its cars. Not simply when it comes to how they function, but also how they look. In fact, most cars smile.

If you look at the VW Beetle or the new model Mazda 3 (just to name a couple), the bonnet, grille and headlights are often designed and positioned to mirror a human face. And a happy one at that.

At the opposite end of the scale to happiness is loss – specifically death, in the form of cult brand, Death Cigarettes.

Here's some of the on-pack copy:

A pack of Death cigarettes leaves no doubt as to the risks of smoking. We don't print a health warning just because it's law. We believe in telling the truth...a responsible way to market a legally available consumer product which kills people when used exactly as intended.

You couldn't get a more honest smoke.

As humans, we are a complex race full of raw emotion and feeling. They say the truth hurts, and they're right. But not because it's true in thought, more so because it hurts our feelings.

So it is, that the most successful brands are often also the most primal. And if you ask me, that feels just about right.

At a loss for design

The past few weeks have been a bit of a roller-coaster in the world of design – or at least in my little neck of the woods.

First, there was the design industry tying itself in knots over the new AWARD identity on Brand New.

Then, we had the crowd-sourcing debacle on Mumbrella (see the previous post – Logo lemons – for my quick, soul-cleansing rant).

And finally, the crème de la crème, the absolute sense of horror that accompanied the launch of the City of Melbourne identity on Brand New (again) and the AGDA blog.

Comment after comment has rained down as all and sundry waded into each debate with the collective fervor of a 6-year old defending his corner of the sandbox. Arms flailing amid a whirr of windmills. The expectant mob waiting with bated breath for the first sight of scarlet in a classic schoolyard fight to the end.

I would love to say that careers have been racked and ruined, egos smashed on the rocks of egalitarianism, and studios shattered by the demands of artistic integrity, but I'm afraid we have nothing more than a hurty knee. The first sign of trouble, and we have been reduced to a ranting mess. The sheer number of comments speaks not of our industry's strength under scrutiny but of its parochialism, pretension and paranoia.

For a profession supposedly steeped in creativity, conservatism and cynicism rule supreme. Just ask the guys at Wolff Olins who designed NYC or London 2012. Brilliant work that breaks the rules and sets a new standard for how we ought to be building brands. But sadly no. We would prefer to wax lyrical over the miracle that is the new Qantas logo. It's embarrassing.

In sport, whenever two sides at the pinnacle of their powers slug it out in the heat of battle, whether your side wins or loses – and please excuse the cliché – the sport itself is always the true winner.

However, when it comes to new brands and their logos, it appears that designers would much rather destroy than create.