The following column examines and critiques commercial design, as well as provides commentary on current issues and trends in the design industry.

Consider the color pink.

Throughout history, pink has yielded a treasure trove of paradoxes. In the medieval vocabulary of color, two of its cleverest descriptions were ‘Nun’s Belly’ and ‘Nymph’s Thigh.’ One refers to chastity, while the other connotes lasciviousness.

In the 20th century, one of the most nefarious uses of pink was as a triangular badge worn by homosexuals in Nazi death camps. Forty years later, that same emblem became a potent symbol of gay pride.

The ironic potential of pink is volatile, shifting rapidly with the vagaries of fashion and popular culture. In the ’50s, they painted cars and houses pink; in the ’90s, such a choice would be considered reckless and not a little fey. But underlying the unstable morphology of pink is a set of associations which may be said to be common to western culture throughout history.

Color theorist Faber Birren, in his book The Psychology of Color, associates pink with tenderness, sweetness, blushing skin, childishness and femininity. When asked what they thought of the role of pink in their work, nurses have responded that it is ‘friendly, caring, nice and tender.’

What of the use of pink in the discipline of branding? Its use on brands in the categories of infant care, children’s confections and feminine hygiene would support Birren’s claims. It would also explain its absence from more masculine products (with the odd exception of Fiberglas, a decidedly unfeminine product).

Which brings us to the case of Pepto-Bismol. The association of pink with tenderness and caring may explain the color of this long-standing brand.

Indigestion conjures up the same kind of burning sensation we associate with, say, sunburn, and the tenderness of both these conditions requires the soothing powers of soft emollients to reduce the painful inflammation.

But tenderness in this case has negative connotations as well as positive ones, depending on whether or not you are in a state of pain or relief.

Before using the product, pink hurts; after its use, pink soothes. There’s that troubling paradox again.

The healing properties of Pepto-Bismol, like those of an apres-sun product, consist in their ability to cover the inflamed area with a thick coating of soothing liquid, in effect cloaking the exposed area from the harmful source of inflammation. What we want to do is hide the inflammation so that we can forget about it.

So why does the current Pepto-Bismol advertising campaign achieve the opposite? If you haven’t seen it, the campaign consists of a number of simple shots of the usual causes of heartburn and indigestion: pizza, french fries, onion rings and tacos, all accompanied by the same headline: ‘It lets you stomach it.’

The campaign would work if it weren’t for one very disturbing fact: all of the food in these shots is colored pink.

Presumably, those of us with sensitive stomachs would salivate at the site of any one of these foodstuffs if they were shot in living color, only to be stymied by the bitter memory of the last time we ate one of them. What is attractive about french fries and onion rings is their golden brown color; pizza and tacos whet the appetite with their multi-colored toppings and fillings.

But pink french fries and onion rings just make our stomachs turn. The problem is that, when applied to these foods, pink uncomfortably reminds us of what the stuff might look like once we’ve already eaten it, mixed by our alimentary organs with a healthy dose of corrosive acid. Where’s the appetite appeal in that? Yecch.

In this case, pink hurts. How could such a glaring paradox be missed? One can only imagine that the brief called for a clever way to reinforce the equity of Pepto-Bismol’s most recognizable visual property: its color. But the art director’s logic (Hey! Let’s color the food pink! That’ll stop ’em in their tracks!) has backfired like a stream of bile burning up an unwilling esophagus.

The paradoxical power of pink must be used with discretion. The creators of this campaign should have worked from the gut (if you’ll excuse the expression), not the brain. Although they have created something that is very memorable, it is unfortunately memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Will Novosedlik and Bob Russell are principals of Russell Design in Toronto.