There are few moments in life as simultaneously baffling and amusing as watching a baby ignore an expensive toy to fixate instead on the care label of your t-shirt. At first glance, such behaviour seems whimsical, even charming. Upon closer examination, however, it reveals something far more profound—and disquieting—about human nature. Drawing on interdisciplinary studies in sociology, anthropology, and evolutionary psychology, this essay posits that humanity’s inexplicable obsession with brands and labels may well be hardwired into our very DNA and that the obsession with labels is not an innocent sensory diversion but an early manifestation of genetic brand snobbery—an innate drive to seek, display, and differentiate status through material symbols from the cradle to boardroom.
The Infant and the Tag: A Biopsychosocial Inquiry
Picture a six-month-old child clutching a plush giraffe. Surely this is an image of wholesome simplicity? But observe closely and soon enough the giraffe is soon ignored in favour of its tag, now dampened by drool. Why this preference? Why the rejection of a perfectly good giraffe?
[…] we now rely on the swoosh of Nike or the gilded apple of, well, Apple, to ascertain whether someone is worth associating with
Studies by Glendenning and Huxford in Pre-Verbal Semiotics[1] offer a tantalizing theory: these labels, replete with washing instructions and adherence to CE certifications, function as proto-symbols, a kind of early consumer “gateway drug” introducing infants to the intoxicating world of codified value systems. Their research, involving the study of 217 infants, suggests that babies disproportionately prefer tags with numbers or logos, hinting at a latent desire for categorization, identity and luxury branding.
Evolutionary theorists argue that this behaviour is rooted in survival mechanisms. According to Tolbringer[2], early humans relied heavily on visual markers to distinguish friend from foe and access to resources. This practice, Tolbringer asserts, was an early form of branding, wherein the human brain evolved to prioritise recognition of symbolic cues much as we now rely on the swoosh of Nike or the gilded apple of, well, Apple, to ascertain whether someone is worth associating with. Infants’ attraction to labels is thus not merely sensory but socio-symbolic—a mechanism by which they begin to interact with systems of value and distinction following millennia-old instincts.
[…] is it possible that capitalism has gone so far as to colonize the genome?
Genealogy doesn’t account for the whole phenomenon when it comes to a baby’s love affair with tags, particularly concerning recent socio-economic evolution. The modern consumer landscape, saturated with brands, in fact amplifies this innate predisposition. Linda Preeceton’s “Born to Buy: The Consumer Gene Hypothesis”[3] revealed that neuroimaging studies conclusively proved that interacting with a a label activates the brain’s reward pathways in infants as young as six months. In other words, babies are biologically programmed to get a dopamine kick every time they gum a tag.
This phenomenon resonates with Vassiliev’s theory of “brand imprinting,”[4] which describes how early exposure to corporate symbols creates neural pathways that associate brands with comfort, security, and even love. Consider the ubiquitous “Taggie” blankets—fabric strips adorned with miniature tags designed specifically to pacify infants: ostensibly marketed as sensory aids, these objects may function as rudimentary branding tools, conditioning children to derive pleasure and satisfaction from labels.
This raises important questions: is it possible that capitalism has gone so far as to colonize the genome? Did babies in pre-industrial societies display such behaviour, or were they simply denied access to high-thread-count fabrics and intricately stitched labels? Preeceton’s theory posits that babies’ obsession with labels reflects a kind of evolutionary bootstrapping—humanity has always been predisposed to signal status through objects, and capitalism merely provides the tags.
Childhood: The Evolution of Brand Snobbery
The infant’s obsession with tags grows into something more sophisticated during childhood as the engagement with material culture deepens. By the age of three, children are already demonstrating preferences for specific logos, often before they can reliably tie their own shoelaces. In fact, according to studies conducted at the Sussex Institute of Cognitive Sociology[5], children as young as three demonstrate marked preferences for branded toys over identical unbranded counterparts.
Your child’s refusal to wear the unbranded trainers from the discount rack isn’t superficial; it’s survival.
This behaviour cannot be fully explained by external factors like advertising. Instead, Jones and Frey argue that it reflects the genetic predisposition to interpret brands as markers of social capital. By insisting on the “right” action figures or clothing, children reinforce their sense of belonging to aspirational in-groups even when branding is removed from the equation: after all, a Barbie is still a Barbie even without the pink packaging. This suggests a preternatural ability to sniff out social cachet, much like a sommelier detecting undertones of oak in a merlot.
This observation is further reinforced by Wainwright et al in their study published in Cultural Commodities Quarterly.[6] They observed that branded items conferred tangible social advantages in playground settings, with children who had Coca Cola in their lunchbox enjoyed a 37% increase in social invitations as opposed to those children who brought Rola Cola to hydrate and energise at lunchtime proving that even at an early age, branding confers tangible social benefits. Your child’s refusal to wear the unbranded trainers from the discount rack isn’t superficial; it’s survival.
The Adult Consumer: Brand Loyalty as Evolutionary Strategy
The proclivity for brands, nurtured in infancy and refined in childhood, blossoms fully in adulthood into a consumer with a carefully curated wardrobe, curated Instagram feed, and anxiety about being caught with last season’s handbag. Adults no longer merely consume brands; they integrate them into their very identities. Christopher Northrup’s “The Tribal Consumer”[7] argues that human reliance on brands parallels primitive tribal behaviours: just as early societies distinguished themselves through symbolic totems, modern individuals use Prada bags and Apple AirPods to signal allegiance to a particular lifestyle.
It’s as if our brains are hardwired to reward us for being shallow—a delightful evolutionary quirk that explains both the appeal of Gucci belts and the enduring success of reality television.
Neurologically, this consumer behaviour is deeply satisfying. Research conducted by Dr. Eleanor Casten and published in her insightful “Neuromarketing and the Mind”[8] indicates that purchasing luxury brands activates the same reward centres associated with dopamine release. Casten concludes that this biological reaction reinforces lifelong brand loyalty, an evolutionary vestige of ancient mechanisms for resource acquisition and status signalling. It’s as if our brains are hardwired to reward us for being shallow—a delightful evolutionary quirk that explains both the appeal of Gucci belts and the enduring success of reality television.
Brands as Modern Mythology (or Modern Madness?)
Of course, this all begs the question: why do humans, uniquely among mammals, obsess over abstract markers of value? Barthesian semiotics positions brands as “modern-day myths”[9] that condense complex social narratives into consumable icons. For instance, the Starbucks mermaid does not merely signify coffee; she conjures a lifestyle, a sense of commonality between land and sea creatures, and aspirational sophistication. Tesla as another example signifies environmental responsibility and/or good company perks and/or subservience to a charlatan billionaire.
[…] if Apple ever declared itself a religion, most of us would join without hesitation.
Infant tag fixation may thus be interpreted as a proto-engagement with mythology, wherein the label serves as an archetypal cipher for larger cultural meanings wherein adults elevate brands to near-divine status in some social and cultural circles and utilise them as a means of navigating increasingly complex identities. Indeed, the continual fervour which accompanies the launch of a new iPhone suggests that if Apple ever declared itself a religion, most of us would join without hesitation.
Cultural Critique and Counterarguments
Sceptics may argue that the link between infantile behaviour and adult consumerism is speculative at best. Behavioural economists like Aaron Lattimore[10] contend that branding effects are primarily learned, not innate. They highlight that many children raised in non-commercial environments—such as hippy communes—display diminished interest in material goods.
However, such counterexamples often feature brand substitutes and are quite easily dismissed as unconvincing: Lattimore himself even notes that in “brand-neutral” environments, children invent their own symbolic systems of valuation such as privileging certain objects (e.g., colourful feathers or girthy blunts) over others. This suggests that the drive to ascribe value to material symbols is irrepressible and biologically ingrained, even if specific manifestations are culturally contingent.
Conclusion: Toward a Biocultural Understanding of Consumerism
In sum, the infant’s obsession with labels is more than a cute quirk; it’s a microcosm of human nature itself and provides a compelling lens through which to examine the evolutionary intersection of biology, culture, and consumerism. From the pre-verbal attraction to garment labels to the adult’s longing for a Balenciaga tote, we see humans demonstrating the same genetic impulse again and again: the drive to ascribe meaning and value to objects as a way of signalling identity and belonging.
This latent brand snobbery, far from being a mere construct of capitalism, appears deeply rooted in our evolutionary history and allows us to not only acknowledge these biological origins but address their implications for human identity and social organisation. Whether this should make us feel proud or ashamed is an entirely different essay, but one thing is certain: the next time you see a baby playing with a label, think twice before you laugh as you are likely witnessing the earliest stages of humanity’s grand, and endlessly profitable, obsession with stuff.
[1] Glendenning, P., & Huxford, E. (2011). Pre-Verbal Semiotics: A Study of Infant Material Engagement. Cambridge University Press.
[2] Tolbringer, J. (1999). Markers of Belonging: The Evolution of Symbolic Recognition in Homo sapiens. Oxford Anthropological Review.
[3] Preeceton, L. (2005). Born to Buy: The Consumer Gene Hypothesis. HarperSmith.
[4] Vassiliev, M. (2017). “Brand Imprinting: A Neural Perspective.” NeuroCultural Studies Quarterly.
[5] Jones, P and Frey, A (2012). “Playground Capital: On Brand and On Fleek.” SICS Press.
[6] Wainwright, D., Miller, A., & Cho, L. (2018). “Playground Capital: The Sociocultural Value of Branded Toys.” Cultural Commodities Quarterly.
[7] Northrup, C. (2012). The Tribal Consumer: How Brands Build Modern Identity. Beacon Hill Press.
[8] Casten, E. (2020). “Neuromarketing and the Mind: How Brands Shape Our Brains.” NeuroLexis Press.
[9] Barthes, R. (1972). “Mythologies.” (misquoted, fictional edition).
[10] Lattimore, A. (2015). “The Limits of Branding: A Behavioral Economics Perspective.” Journal of Consumption Studies.
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