We'll accept that signs don't win races, nor do they (in and of themselves) constitute a grassroots campaign, but let's assume they count for something. Perhaps a couple of percentage points. I can't find a photo of an actual Broun sign, so I'm assuming they were a variation of his masthead logo, shown below. If not, most of this is moot.

Whitehead's site is already off line, but here's the google cache of whiteheadforcongress.com. In contrast to the rather cold, slick, contemporary grid of Jim Whitehead's materials, Broun's stuff is retro and quaint. By design or default (and I'm pretty sure it's the latter), his campaign identity hits emotional, nostalgic notes. The very same notes that were polished completely out of Whitehead's presentation by the vaunted Stoneridge Group.

Some design features of Broun's logo are more obvious than others. How many can you spot?

The red and black color scheme nods to the home team and snaps well against green summer landscapes. The primary font used for his last name is Aachen, the same typeface used for both Clinton Presidential campaigns.

This chunky font conveys strength and is more legible at long distances than the prissy typeface selected by Team Whitehead. The upward angle is reminiscent of Bill Clinton's too, but is basically an old graphic technique still commonly used for consumer packaging, especially snack foods.

The colors are bold and high contrast, with no elements to impede legibility. If you squint, the whole thing could pass for a vintage beer can label and is twice as common. Broun's signs were reported to be larger than standard size, which would make them about the size of hand painted beer and restaurant signs that dotted highways in the 30s, 40s and 50s, before billboards ate the rural landscape.

There's nothing new about any of this, and that's the point. Vernacular design has long been a tool in the designer's kit, and for good reason. On some level, everyone recognizes that vintage typefaces, color combinations and shapes can immediately conjure images of earlier, simpler times. Nostalgia works with every age group and demographic, in every product category, and is a powerful motivator in driving consumer choice. Cars and trucks are sold to Generation X males by linking them to favorite childhood toys such as Transformers and Hot Wheels. Keds are sold to Baby Boomer females by reminding us of Summer days with Dad. There's Kiehl's, Chrysler and Coke. The list of manufacturers that rely on nostalgia in product, packaging or advertising design is long. All A-list products with A-team creative. So why not politics?

We don't talk much about design in the context of campaign identities, and neither does anyone else. Excluding political posters (protest and propaganda), there is very little design training, literature or criticism devoted to political work. It just isn't recognized as a discipline. There are a few compilation sites for reference, the best of which is probably 4president.org. There are some great pieces there, including the most exquisitely crafted typographic treatment for the candidate you've never heard of.

And of course there's the famous Paula Scher visual critique of Bush and Kerry signage that appeared in the NY Times in 2004, along with Scott Dadich's scathing review. If only those two giants had spent their time designing Kerry's logo, instead of critiquing work pooped out of an amateur's laptop, things might be very different.

Historically, campaign logos were the purview of printers or sign painters and never really approached anything close to what we would now consider brand design. That's changing, but slowly and with mixed results. Those who do undertake political creative projects like The Stoneridge Group and PlusThree approach them as they would corporate or institutional design, and generally seem more focused on web widgets than identity design.

Of the two, PlusThree has a stronger grasp of the consumer aesthetic, as demonstrated on John Edwards' site. That said, I'm not at all happy with Edward's logo. On the Republican side, Stoneridge's contrived jingoism often comes across as a sterile form of consumer idealized design. As Paul Broun demonstrated, this is easily beaten.

While I'd never suggest any candidate take the "folk art" approach of the Broun campaign, or that every identity should have a vintage treatment, there's something to be learned from his materials. For local races, especially those in rural areas, campaign identities without energy and warmth aren't worth the cardboard they're printed on or the pixels that illuminate them. Creating the right mark isn't difficult or expensive if you know what notes to hit, but no amount of money can compensate for a weak graphic identity.

Of the many expenditures to The Stoneridge Group in Whitehead's disclosures, the one most likely to have included fees for identity and web design is labeled MEDIA PRODUCTION for $25,071.25.

Frankly, I'd be surprised if Broun paid $1,000 for his whole kit and kaboodle. The moral of the story is that Democratic candidates could save millions AND win races if we just think about what we're doing and why. We live in a visual culture where every detail counts and smart low-tech can trump dumb high-end every time.

If nothing else, here's hoping our eventual Presidential nominee learned something from the Kerry/Edwards logo debacle in 2004 and won't repeat the same mistake. Nor should we at the local level.