By Andrew Klein

Dedicated to my wife, who understood the message of the dove.

I. Introduction: The Colour of Politics

In the garden, the doves panic at the sight of red. It is not the fabric they fear — it is the signal. Red speaks to them in a language older than words, older than reason: danger, alarm, threat.

The same principle governs political perception.

Research confirms that colour serves as a “low-level heuristic” for voters — a mental shortcut that shapes perception before a single policy is articulated. In politics, colours are rarely accidental. They are chosen, curated, and deployed as part of a carefully constructed brand.

Consider Pauline Hanson. She wears red constantly — red hair, red clothing, red as a unifying visual identity. Margaret Thatcher, by contrast, built her image around blue — the colour of conservative authority. Both were ruthless, calculating, and servants of an economic system of extraction. Both understood that the package is the product.

This article examines how political figures are packaged for consumption, the interests that fund this packaging, and what it reveals about the nature of modern democratic politics.

II. The Psychology of Political Colour

The role of colour in political perception is well-documented. Studies have found that the meaning of colours can change depending on the degree of incongruity between a candidate’s colour image and voter expectations. When colour images are consistent with expectations, voters respond more positively. When they are incongruent, the effect is less favourable.

Colour serves as a symbolic shortcut that allows voters to form rapid impressions of candidates and their platforms. Different colours carry different connotations:

· Blue symbolises trust, stability, and conservatism.

· Red signals passion, urgency, and intensity.

· Warm colours (reds, oranges) can make politicians seem more likeable.

· Bright colours can make them seem more trustworthy.

Critically, however, the colour red is the most frequently misinterpreted colour in political contexts, due to its historical and psychological connotations which can lead to negative symbolism. Voters do not always interpret political colours uniformly; there is no established universal meaning of political colours. This ambiguity is precisely what makes colour such a powerful tool for image-makers — they can shape the meaning they want voters to see.

III. The Packaging of Thatcher and Hanson

Margaret Thatcher: The Blue of Authority

Thatcher understood that image was power. She pioneered “power dressing“, using structured suits, shoulder pads, and pearls to project strength without sacrificing femininity. Her clothing was a deliberate tool to command respect in a male-dominated world.

Thatcher used blue to symbolise conservatism and authority. At the height of her premiership, she evolved her performance to accentuate her power as a national politician and statesperson using dress. Her style was not fashion — it was strategy.

As one observer noted, Thatcher was “styled not stylish” — a significant distinction. Her image was crafted with strategic and political intent. She was not expressing herself; she was manufacturing a persona designed to dominate.

Pauline Hanson: The Red of Defiance

Hanson’s red is a different kind of signal. For a populist outsider, red projects assertiveness and conviction. It signals passion and urgency — perfect for a brand built on emotional grievance.

Hanson presents herself as a staunch conservative leading the fight against changes she believes are destroying the country. Her image is not accidental. Her 917,000 followers on Facebook (compared to the Prime Minister’s 652,000) reflect a carefully cultivated online presence. She has been “remarkably successful at using social media” and has used it strategically and innovatively for over a decade.

Her brand is unified: the red hair, the red clothing, the combative rhetoric. It is designed to be unforgettable.

IV. The Politics of Product, Voters as Consumers

Modern political marketing treats leaders as products and voters as consumers. The leader’s image is a core part of the “political product“. Voters are targeted through emotional appeals where attractive packaging conceals reality.

The spin doctor — the image manager, the media adviser — is central to this process. Spin doctors aim to generate publicity for their political masters while controlling their public presence. They manufacture “sound-bites” and “designer coverage“. They are the architects of the package.

In Australia, taxpayers fund this machinery. State governments spend $2.75 million annually on ministerial media advisers. This is not democracy — it is brand management.

Hanson’s red is not about policy. It is about branding — a visual shorthand for her entire political identity: loud, unapologetic, and “for the battler.” But Hanson has missed at least 10 days of parliament since the election, including to attend political events at Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida. She often skips Senate estimates and the other lower-profile responsibilities of parliamentarians.

The product is not the policy.

The product is the performance.

V. Who Is Paying for the Package?

The packaging of Pauline Hanson is not self-funded. It is underwritten by Australia’s richest person, mining billionaire Gina Rinehart.

Rinehart has donated a Cirrus G7 aircraft worth approximately A$1.5 million to One Nation. Two employees of her flagship company gave the party a further A$500,000. A dinner auctioned at Rinehart’s event raised $300,000 for One Nation. In total, One Nation has received   $2 million in cash donations from Rinehart associates.

Hanson and Barnaby Joyce billed taxpayers more than $3,000 to attend fundraising and donor events aboard the luxury cruise ship The World, where Rinehart owns an exclusive penthouse apartment. Hanson has also taken multiple flights on Rinehart’s private jets — including a Gulfstream G700 — that were not properly declared in breach of Senate rules.

The party programme now reads like a checklist of the global populist radical right: leave the United Nations, the WHO, and the World Economic Forum; cut funding for the NDIS; abolish the National Indigenous Australians Agency and the Department of Climate Change.

This is not grassroots populism.

This is a wealth extraction operation disguised as a populist movement.

VI. Personal Style as Political Statement

Personal style has long been a marker of political identity. Paul Keating, as Prime Minister, was known for wearing hand-sewn Italian suits from luxury labels like Ermenegildo Zegna. His suits were a statement of sophistication, of worldliness, of being above the parochial.

Thatcher’s blue suits and structured shoulders were a statement of authority, of command, of control.

Hanson’s red is a statement of defiance, of passion, of war.

Style is never neutral. It is always a signal — and signals are always read.

VII. The Wardrobe Mistress and the Manufactured Image

In television and politics, the “wardrobe mistress” (or image consultant) is the person who selects the clothing for public appearances. They are experts in both colour and line. They do not dress the person — they dress the brand.

Hanson’s carefully curated image — the red, the Kidman-branded country attire, the consistent visual identity — suggests the hand of a professional. It is not spontaneous. It is manufactured.

When One Nation banned The Guardian from its events after the outlet admitted that some photographs made Hanson appear “more sinister“, the party was not defending Hanson’s dignity. It was protecting the brand.

The package is the product.

And the product must be controlled.

VIII. The Mixed Messages of Red

Red is a powerful colour, but it is also a confusing one. It can signal passion or danger, love or war, revolution or reaction. Its meaning depends on context.

When Hanson wears red, she is sending a message of defiance. But when she opens her mouth — when she presents the public with stunts, with outrage, with the same threadbare playbook she has used since 1996 — the message becomes confusion.

Is she a champion of the battler?

Or is she a product of billionaire patronage?

Is she a defender of Australian values?

Or is she a performer funded by those who profit from extraction?

The colour says one thing.

The record says another.

IX. Conclusion: When the Colour Is the Message

The packaging of political figures is not an accident. It is a strategy — one that serves the interests of those who pay for it.

Hanson’s red is not about policy.

Thatcher’s blue was not about fashion.

Keating’s Italian suits were not about vanity.

They are about branding.

And branding is about selling.

If the product is so unpalatable that it requires such elaborate packaging — if the person behind the brand is so unpleasant that a carefully curated image is necessary to make them palatable — then what does that tell us about the interests that fund them?

The package is the product.

And the product is being sold to us — not as citizens, but as consumers.

When the colour is the message, we are no longer being governed.

We are being marketed to.

And the question we must ask is not what is the colour?

But who is paying for it?

And what are they buying?

Andrew Klein

References

1. Khrist Jaira, J. (2024). Political Branding: The use of campaign color as symbolism of platforms among the presidential candidates in the 2022 elections. Diversitas Journal, 9(Special Issue), 50-69. 

2. Effects of incongruity of the color image on vote intention. Korean Citation Index. 

3. Park, S. (2025). Effect of Color of Politician’s costume in TV address on electors. Korean Citation Index. 

4. A Study on the Power Dressing of Margaret Thatcher: Focus on Fashion Styling. Korea Science. 

5. Axford, B., Madgwick, P., & Turner, J. (1992). Image management, stunts and dirty tricks: the marketing of political brands in television campaigns. Sage Journals. 

6. Spin doctors and political marketing. Griffith University Research Repository. 

7. McIlroy, T. (2025, November 25). Pauline Hanson thinks she speaks for the mainstream but her burqa stunt shows she is a bit player with bad instincts. The Guardian. 

8. Searchlight Magazine. (2026, June). The billionaire bankrolling Australian far right’s Trump turn. 

9. The Guardian. (2026, April 30). Has Gina Rinehart ‘bought’ One Nation? 

10. Sky News Australia. (2026, June 5). One Nation bans The Guardian from their events after outlet admits using photography which makes Pauline Hanson look ‘sinister’. 

11. Straits Times. (2026, February 19). Far-right leader Pauline Hanson’s crafty social media use in Australia fuels surging popularity. 

12. One Nation’s rise and donor funding. The AIM Network. 

13. Powerhouse Collection. Suit worn by Paul Keating. 

P.S. — The package is the product. But we are not for sale.