At first glance, political movements tend to present themselves as singular, distinct and morally unique. Each cause claims urgency. Each struggle insists on its own language, symbols and priorities. Climate activists block streets and glue themselves to infrastructure. Feminist movements organise marches and online campaigns. Labour unions strike. Nationalist movements rally under flags and slogans. Different demands, different enemies – different aesthetics.
And yet, once you start paying attention to how these movements communicate, the differences begin to blur.
Political movements rarely invent themselves from scratch. They emerge within existing cultural, political and media environments, borrowing tactics, visuals and narratives from those that came before them – and from those they oppose. Social movement scholars describe this process as movement spillover, where ideas, organisational forms and symbolic repertoires travel across movements, even across ideological boundaries (Meyer & Whittier, 1994).
A slogan migrates. A colour palette resurfaces. A gesture becomes universal.
The clenched fist is perhaps the most recognisable example. Originally associated with labour movements and anti-fascist resistance, it has since been adopted by feminist, anti-racist, queer and climate justice movements. In each context, its meaning shifts slightly – empowerment, solidarity, resistance – but its emotional core remains intact. Symbols accumulate histories. Movements inherit them whether they want to or not.
What becomes particularly striking is that opposing movements often rely on remarkably similar branding tactics. Uniform clothing. Simplified messaging. Strong emotional narratives. Clear distinctions between “us” and “them.” Even when political goals are fundamentally incompatible, the communication logic remains the same. Everyone is competing within the same attention economy.
This mirroring effect is especially visible in polarised political landscapes. Progressive and reactionary movements alike frame themselves as authentic, silenced or under threat. They claim moral urgency. They mobilise fear, hope or nostalgia. Communication theorist Paolo Gerbaudo argues that contemporary mobilisation is less about rational persuasion and more about emotional identification – movements succeed by making people feel part of something (Gerbaudo, 2018).
Belonging, however, requires recognisability.
This is where branding becomes essential. A movement must be instantly identifiable, repeatable and scalable. Limited colour palettes, recognisable symbols, consistent tone of voice – these elements allow movements to circulate across platforms and contexts without losing coherence. Whether it’s climate justice or nationalist populism, the mechanics are often identical. Same fight, different fonts.
Interconnectivity also becomes visible through coalition-building. Climate justice movements increasingly align themselves with labour rights, feminist politics and anti-racist struggles, recognising shared structural enemies. These alliances reshape visual language too. Messaging becomes broader. Symbols soften. Aesthetics adapt in order to accommodate multiple identities without collapsing into incoherence.
Yet this process is never frictionless. Interconnected movements must constantly negotiate whose priorities are foregrounded and whose are marginalised. Branding choices become political decisions.
Ultimately, movements do not operate in isolation. They exist within shared cultural systems, media infrastructures and design logics. Same platforms. Same visual languages. Same struggle for attention.
Different politics. Same design rules.
Sources:
• Gerbaudo, P. (2018). The Digital Party. Pluto Press.
• Meyer, D. S., & Whittier, N. (1994). Social Movement Spillover. Social Problems, 41(2).
