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The Boomerang. "Knocking" slogans, in adman's parlance, are apt to be risky—though pollsters find that the "carpetbagger" label has been damaging to Robert Kennedy's senatorial campaign in New York. By failing to repudiate promptly a supporter's denunciation of "rum, Romanism and rebellion" in 1884, James G. Elaine lost New York's electoral votes and the presidential election against Grover Cleveland. Barry Goldwater has probably lost votes by charging that Lyndon Johnson is "soft on Communism"—an inflammatory Republican slogan a decade ago, but now a burnt-out cliché. Another Goldwater slogan that boomeranged was "extremism in the defense of liberty"—even if it was intended as a paraphrase of Tom Paine's aphorism: "Moderation in temper is always a virtue, but moderation in principle is always a vice."
To be compelling, a slogan must above all be simple. Its acceptance, says University of Houston Psychologist Richard Evans, "is rooted in man's basic intolerance for ambiguity." But it doesn't always work that way. One of the most successful slogans in recent years was a "Vote for clean water" campaign in St. Louis, which led many citizens to believe that a proposed $95 million bond issue would be spent to purify their drinking water. In fact, it was intended to reduce pollution of the Mississippi River downstream from the city, but confused St. Louisans passed the bond issue in a 5-1 landslide. Nothing ambiguous about that.
*Tyler was the Whig vice-presidential candidate in 1840. "Tippecanoe" was used to glamorize Gentleman Farmer William Henry Harrison, who had scored a dubious victory over the Indians in a skirmish at Tippecanoe Creek 29 years earlier, but routed Martin Van Buren in the election. A more forgettable Whig slogan affirmed: "With Tip and Tyler we'll bust Van's biler."