Let’s start with a moment that wasn’t supposed to matter.
I was in Guitar Center Hollywood with a client. It was loud and slightly chaotic, as one might expect. It smelled like old tube amps and 50 shades of ambition. My client beelined to where his brand’s products were on the shelves and handed me one of their new audio boxes. “Ever opened one of these?” He had this twinkle in his eye, not too dissimilar from the one in my father’s eyes when he handed me the car keys to a ‘67 Mustang at my graduation ceremony.
It wasn’t the product. It was the presentation. It was the experience. The soft matte box. The superior construction. The weight of the thing made it feel like it was the keeper of some important secret. For a brief second, my brain forgot I was in a messy, fluorescent cave of retail wonder. Instead, I was immersed. Fully present, fully engaged. That memory has lived rent-free in my head ever since.
That’s neurobranding. And you’ve felt it, too—you just didn’t have a name for it.
The branding divide
The branding world in our time is next-level smart, yet still struggling. On one side, you have the science crowd. Think Byron Sharp, Ehrenberg-Bass, and the performance marketers who worship dashboards and mental availability. Their logic is airtight: Brands grow by being remembered and reachable. Consistency wins. Mass exposure works. All good.
On the other side? The meaning-makers. Godin. Neumeier. Maybe even Simon Sinek. The folks who want brands to feel human, authentic, and purpose-driven. They’re not wrong, either.
Some of us have strong opinions about these. I could evoke some Mark Ritson quotes here, but I’m trying to keep this appropriate… Here’s the uncomfortable truth though: Both sides often miss the human brain sitting in the middle. It’s what I’d frame as Third Way thinking.
We’re not short on purpose, and we’re certainly not lacking data. Those have their place, but here, I’m talking about something entirely different.
Neurobranding entered the chat…
Neurobranding doesn’t reject the principles of reach or purpose. It reframes them through a deeper lens—the science of memory. Sharp talks mental availability. Sinek talks meaning. Neurobranding asks a different question: What makes a brand unforgettable—neurologically, emotionally, chemically?
Neurobranding is where strategy meets the subconscious.
According to research done by Dr. Gerald Zaltman of the Harvard Business School (and others of the seminal work, How Customers Think: Essential Insights into the Mind of the Market), an estimated 95% of our buying decisions are made in the subconscious. Now, you may have heard this before—it was published in 2003, after all. But I’m asking you to consider how this plays into the brand strategies of 2025 and beyond.
Let’s call this what it is: a philosophical shift. A refusal to play only with language and logic, choosing to tap into the emotional engine that actually drives memory, trust, and behavior instead.
Everyone agrees that memory is what matters. Sharp says it. Sinek says it. Which means this isn’t a debate, it’s a shared goal. But where they diverge is in how memory gets built. Sharp says mental availability and reach. Sinek and Neumeier say purpose and belief.
Neurobranding reminds us that memory lives in the nervous system. It isn’t cultivated solely via message consistency or lofty mission statements; it’s made by emotional imprint, sensory experience, and subconscious association.
In other words, this isn’t about reframing what matters, but rather offering a lens by which to build it better. A perspective that’s backed by neuroscience and built for real-world strategy. For I’d argue that infusing emotion is not just about a “hook” or engagement (although this is a feature). It’s not just about attention. There’s something more important than that, and maybe that’s the proverbial elephant in the room.
We talk a lot about attention, but attention is fleeting. Memory is the asset.
In How Brands Grow, Sharp offers the Ehrenberg-Bass Institute’s 95:5 Rule. This principle shows us that only 5% of our audience is ready to buy now, and every competitor is fighting for that attention. But 95% will be ready to buy at some point in the future, and neurobranding is about building a brand that feels like the inevitable choice when that 95% is ready.
So, if success is based on focusing more on memory than attention, how do we (as brands) make memories?
Emotion is the shortcut
The brain doesn’t catalog logos and taglines. It remembers how things feel. And while that may seem poetic, it’s actually chemical. Dopamine, oxytocin, and cortisol are the real brand recall engines. You want to be unforgettable? Start triggering emotions that anchor moments to memory.
And if you need proof, look no further than your childhood pet’s name. Remember that? Now, try remembering the fourth bullet point from a client deck last week.
Exactly.
Chances are, if you’re a creative—writer, designer, music-maker—you’re “a Mac person”. Consider this: There’s a world of difference between saying “I prefer Apple products” and “I’m a Mac person.” In the latter, your identity has shifted and claimed a stake. The same case could be made for Harley Davidson, Fender, or Jameson whiskey.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a Japanese tea brand or a Danish headphone startup, the principle is the same: People remember what they feel.
Neural coupling > funnels
When we hear a well-told, artfully delivered story, our brains are all in—they sync with the storyteller. That’s called neural coupling, and it’s what makes great stories contagious. Our neurons fire in rhythm with the storyteller’s. Suddenly, we’re not just receiving the message, we are the message.
In neurobranding, the goal isn’t just to tell a story, it’s to sync brains.
This is where the funnel fails. Funnels assume a linear, logical progression. But the brain? It jumps, loops, forgets, and falls in love unpredictably. The real funnel is made of feeling, not frictionless steps.
In a former life, I delivered high-end audio gear to recording studios all over Los Angeles. We’re talking vintage tube mics—the kind producers rent for legends. I’ve stepped foot in the home studios of David Foster, Sheryl Crow, and Rick Rubin.
But the story I tell the most?
One time I was making a delivery to Jackson Browne’s studio in Santa Monica. I’d been there half a dozen times before. Great crew. Chill vibe. Never once saw anyone famous—it just wasn’t that kind of gig. You dropped the gear, maybe said “hey” to a tech, and kept it moving.
This time was different.
Jackson himself opened the door.
Big smile. Warm handshake. And then, without a trace of ego, he asked if I wanted a Coke.
Just like that, I was standing in the studio of a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, holding a vintage mic, and being treated like an old friend. I thought I was just delivering a microphone. What I got was a memory that stuck.
That’s neural coupling. One moment of human connection, and now you feel like you were there, too.
We all agree that storytelling is paramount, but not all stories are built the same. Stories that reel us in, take us on a trip, and leave us with something to think about last longer. They build a photo album in your mind and start filling it with memories.
Subconscious associations drive conscious behavior
People don’t buy the best product; they buy the one that feels right, often without even knowing why. That’s because our brains make decisions based on deep, invisible associations built over time. These links form through immersion, not explanation. Through symbols, sounds, stories, and signals repeated across time and space. This is why a Toyota feels reliable. Why Chanel feels luxurious.
It’s not the ads that make a brand what it is, but rather the emotional breadcrumbs it leaves in your mind.
This is why logos and colors are important. Not because they are the brand, but because they whisper in a language the subconscious understands—symbols, emotions, and what feels familiar. And if your brand doesn’t live in the subconscious, then it’s already disappearing into the ether.
This means that neurobranding is more a lens than a strategy. The only question is, what does it look like in practice?
Instead of asking, “What does our customer want to hear?”
Ask, “What memory do we want them to carry forever?”
Instead of chasing attention, chase immersion.
Ask, “What kind of moment will trigger oxytocin?”
Instead of crafting a brand voice, craft a brand feeling.
Ask, “What do I want my customer’s brain to recognize in milliseconds?”
This changes the job of the brand builder. You’re not a copywriter, you’re a memory architect. A mirror neuron manipulator. A trust engineer. And your best work will never show up in a heat map, it’ll show up in someone’s nervous system.
The fight against forgettability
If today’s brands are fighting for attention, tomorrow’s brands will fight for memory.
Attention is cheap. Manipulable. Fleeting. It’s why clickbait works and TikTok drains us. But memory? Memory is earned.
The brands that endure will be the ones that trade in deep feeling, not surface-level reach. They’ll trigger trust, not just retargeting. They’ll be unforgettable—not because they shouted the loudest, but because they embedded themselves in our brains.
What if you’re not just a marketer? What if you’re a signal in someone’s story? What if your job isn’t just to inform, but to transform? Not just to convert, but to connect?
The future of branding doesn’t belong to the biggest budget or the most clever campaign. It belongs to those who understand what moves the human brain and builds emotional resonance that lasts.
That’s neurobranding. Not better but different. And maybe—just maybe—unforgettable.
Cover image source: Yana