“Los Angeles must be liberated.”
That wasn’t a military general; it was a U.S. politician describing a city governed by their political opponents.
“They’re invading our borders.”
That wasn’t a national security briefing. It was a campaign talking point about immigrants.
Language has the power to shape perception, shift belief, and stir us into action. Words carry power. Package them, repeat them, and they can reshape ideology. Advertising is proof.
Apple's "Think Different" campaign wasn't just a product pitch; it was a belief system. It tapped into something universal: the human desire to feel original. Owning a Mac became shorthand for "I see the world differently," aligning you with the likes of Einstein, Dali, Dylan, and Picasso.
Nike did something similar with "Just Do It." It wasn't about shoes. It was about the universal struggle to get started. It was a motivational cue to overcome our doubts.
These weren't just ads. These weren't just words. They were mantras. They spoke to who we wanted to be. Even if we didn't buy the product, we bought into the feeling because powerful language bypasses logic and plugs directly into our identity.
Language isn't just a tool for communication. It's a tool for transformation.
Brands use it to sell you an identity.
Now, politicians are using it to sell you their power.
"Invaders" used to imply a war-like scenario, to trigger our tribal defense instincts. "Liberate" used to imply oppression or occupation to prime us for retaliation. Calling undocumented people "illegals" reduces humans to a crime. These aren't just words; they're psychological cues. Repeated enough, and backed by authority, they change how we see the world and each other.
Whether you're selling sneakers or fear, the formula is the same:
Simplify the story.
Speak to identity.
Repeat it until it feels like the truth.
The Political Rebrand. From Slogans to Scapegoats
It's no coincidence that modern political rhetoric sounds like ad copy. Trump didn't just use the language of branding; he embodied it. His entire persona is built around a name, a logo, and a promise.
Every phrase he repeats, like "Build the Wall," "Lock Her Up," "Make America Great Again", is a crafted slogan. Simple. Emotional. Stickier than facts. That's not accidental. It's strategic.
He turns complex issues into bite-sized conflicts. "Us vs. Them" becomes the default. Add emotionally loaded shortcuts like "criminals" or "illegals," and it's no longer about policy. It's about psychological persuasion.
Like any great brand strategist, Trump understands repetition breeds familiarity, and familiarity breeds belief.
He doesn't argue. He brands. He doesn't explain. He positions.
He's not just selling us policy, he's selling a story. And in his stories, there's always a hero, a villain, and an urgent call to action. Just like in every great ad campaign.
The problem is he's too good at it, and he's not selling a product, but rather policies with real human consequences.
This isn't a partisan trick, either. It's a political one. Republicans are good at using slogans to trigger fear. Democrats use them to trigger shame. One paints someone as the enemy, and the other paints you as morally inferior. Either way, the goal is the same: to simplify the story, stir emotion, and shut down complexity.
Hillary Clinton – “Superpredators” (1996)
“They are not just gangs of kids anymore. They are often the kinds of kids that are called superpredators—no conscience, no empathy.”— Hillary Clinton, promoting the 1994 Crime Bill
This label dehumanized Black youth. It framed kids as monsters beyond redemption. And it helped fuel a wave of mass incarcerations.
The Language of Dehumanization
"They're not people. They're animals."
“We will stop the invasion of illegals into our country. We will defend our territory. We will not be conquered."
"We must liberate Los Angeles."
These aren't policy statements. They're emotional triggers. They frame people as threats, cities as battlefields, and decisions as acts of moral warfare.
This is branding applied to power. The administration becomes the "liberating" hero. The other side becomes an "invading" force. It's an ad with a villain and a call to arms.
Dehumanization isn't just a side effect. It's the point. Language is used to rally loyalty and justify overreach. It makes cruelty feel justified.
Fear-based persuasion is as old as propaganda itself.
History Repeats: Language as The First Weapon
Nazi Germany: Jews as "vermin" and "poison"
Rwanda: Tutsis as "cockroaches."
United States: Native Americans as "savages," Japanese as "threats," African Americans as "subhuman."
In every case, language preceded violence.
Always.
We're already seeing the early effect today: Troops sent to U.S cities because of riots. Mass deportations, child separations, protesters, and government leaders were labeled enemies of the state.
Words That Divide. Words That Decide.
"Just Do It."
That slogan inspired. It elevated. It unified.
Today's political slogans divide, dehumanize, and desensitize. Words don't just describe what we see. They decide how we feel, and once they influence who we see as human, it's already too late.
“They’re invading our borders.”
Sounds like a part of a war speech, but it's being said about American cities and families seeking safety.
We need to listen more carefully to what is being said in politics and the media. We need to question everything. Not just the what, but the why and the how. Because if history has taught us anything, it's this:
Atrocities don't begin with bullets.
They begin with words.
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–Luis