We not only recognize brands through their logos, we trust the stories embedded in them. A bitten apple evokes a tragic genius (Apple), blue-and-white checks make us imagine a propeller cutting through the sky (BMW), and when we face the golden arches shaped like an M (McDonald's), we think of hamburgers. The problem is that these stories are sometimes not true. More interesting is that myths not created by corporations are made and spread among consumers, and ultimately become part of the brand. A narrative more persuasive than the truth overwhelms the truth. And sometimes the myth gives the brand even greater value.
v Myth: an apple to honor Alan TuringThe father of computer science, Alan Turing. A genius mathematician who decisively contributed to the Allied victory in World War II by cracking the Nazis' Enigma code. His achievements, widely known to the public through the film "The Imitation Game," laid the foundation for the modern computer.
But this war hero faced harsh repression for homosexuality charges. Choosing chemical castration, Turing died in 1954 after eating an apple laced with cyanide. Many people believed that Apple chose a bitten apple as its logo to honor Turing, a pioneer of cutting-edge technological progress, symbolizing his final moment. The story was perfect. The narrative—an innovative tech company and the father of computer science, a tragic genius and a tribute to him, and even a sense of human rights—spread quickly across the internet.
v Truth: a practical choice to distinguish it from a cherry
But Rob Janoff, the designer of the logo, has clearly denied this in multiple interviews. "Alan Turing? It has nothing to do with it." The reason he gave is surprisingly practical. A simple apple drawing could be mistaken for a cherry or another fruit, so he added the bitten shape to clearly say, "This is an apple." The aim was merely to use a friendly fruit image to soften a tech company's stiff image, while keeping it simple and clear.
Steve Jobs chose the company name "Apple" for similarly modest reasons. On a fruit diet at the time, Jobs visited an apple farm in Oregon and suggested, "What about Apple?" He considered the practical advantage that it was concise, friendly, and would come before competitor "Atari" in the phone book. Despite the explanations from the designer and the founder, the Turing-tribute theory is still widely discussed. This is how collective interpretation completes a brand.
v Myth: from aircraft engines to cars
When you see the blue-and-white check pattern of the BMW logo, a natural image comes to mind: a spinning propeller. A propeller gleaming white against a blue sky. Combined with the fact that BMW originally made aircraft engines, this interpretation was accepted almost as established fact. The story that the precision and technology of the aviation industry were carried over into automobiles fit perfectly with BMW's upscale brand image. And so, for nearly a century, the myth spread as if it were fact.
v Truth: the colors of Bavaria's flag
BMW began in Munich, Germany, in 1917. Its corporate name was "Bayerische Motoren Werke," or "Bavarian Motor Works." That is where the abbreviation BMW came from. The blue and white in the logo were taken from the state flag of Bavaria. The Bavarian flag is characterized by a blue-and-white lozenge pattern. At the time, the German Trademark Act prohibited using a state flag directly as a trademark, so BMW kept the colors but altered the arrangement within a circle. It was a practical way to embody regional identity while complying with the law. Interestingly, even though BMW revealed this in 1963, it neither actively denied nor leveraged the propeller myth. With the "truth" of regional identity and the "myth" symbolizing advanced technology coexisting, BMW became a brand that represents both tradition and innovation.
If Apple and BMW are cases where consumers created the myths, Bluetooth is a rare case where a mythic narrative was designed from the planning stage. In 1994, Sweden's Ericsson began research on wireless communication technology, and in 1997 Intel engineer Jim Kardach found inspiration while reading a history book about Vikings. He named it after King Harald Blåtand Gormsson, who unified Denmark and Norway in the 10th century, nicknamed "Bluetooth," with the grand dream of linking different communication devices under a single standard, just as he united Scandinavia. The logo itself perfectly embodies this philosophy. It combines the runes for H, corresponding to Harald, and B, corresponding to Bluetooth. Runes are ancient characters used by Germanic peoples and were widely used across Northern Europe. This is not just logo design; it is time travel. A script from the Viking era 1,000 years ago has become a 21st-century wireless communication standard. The narrative that a philosophy of unification in the past became a modern technology standard is one of the beautiful stories in the history of technology.
One of the most globally recognizable logos is McDonald's golden arches. Most people naturally think it stylizes the first letter M of "McDonald." But in fact, it was merely an eave to keep off the rain. On Apr. 15, 1955, salesman Ray Kroc persuaded the McDonald brothers, who were running a hamburger stand in California, to open the first franchise in the suburbs of Chicago. The store sat by a highway, and to keep customers ordering outside from getting wet, the building had a golden arched eave on top. Noticing that from the side the eave looked like the letter M, the current logo was designed. The company ended up with the lucky coincidence of matching the first letter of its name, but the beginning was simply a practical architectural element. A logo born from the convenience of customers avoiding the rain has now become a symbol of the entire fast-food industry.Apple did not honor Turing, BMW did not symbolize a propeller, and McDonald's arches were originally an eave. The truth was more ordinary than expected. A choice to distinguish it from a cherry, the colors of a regional flag, an architectural structure to keep off the rain. But the myths were more appealing than the truth. A tribute to a tragic genius, a propeller slicing through the sky, golden arches embodying architectural innovation. Such stories added depth and meaning to the brands. What is interesting is that many of these myths were created by consumers. Corporations merely created a logo, and consumers found meaning within it, made connections, and built narratives. As philosopher Roland Barthes said, myth does not explain things. Instead, it makes them so natural that the very question disappears.
Stories more appealing than the truth overwhelm the truth. Apple's apple became a symbol of technology and design, BMW's logo became a fusion of tradition and innovation, and McDonald's arches became a symbol of convenience and speed. The truth of logo design matters, but the influence of the myths it generates is even greater. Myths not intended by corporations, and myths perfectly planned, both make brands more special. One thing is certain: a good logo creates stories. It satisfies the human desire to find meaning, to make connections, and to believe. That is why a logo becomes the soul of a brand, beyond a simple graphic.