first moved to Australia 20 years ago: This country has a lot of heads in its logos. Dan, of course – but also Bob Jane T-Marts, Dick Smith, Ted’s Cameras, Jim’s Mowing and Paul’s Warehouse, to name just a few. Back then, fresh on Aussie shores, it felt very amateur. Something a small business or sole trader – like a plumber – might do. Certainly not something you’d expect from an established national high street brand. At the time, I wondered if it was ignorance or just Aussie charm. Years later, I think it’s something much more interesting. A uniquely Australian quirk? Of course, most brands start with a founder or founders. Industries as diverse as fashion houses, distillers, law firms, animation studios, food and confectionery producers – even ad agencies – reference their founders directly. Think Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, Jack Daniel’s, Baker McKenzie, Walt Disney, John Cadbury, Will Keith Kellogg’s, Saatchi & Saatchi. But actual heads? Almost none.  Paul Newman – of Newman’s Own salad dressings – makes the cut. KFC’s Colonel Sanders is a well-used, distinctive brand asset, but he functions more as a device or mascot. For the most part, large international brands ditch the founder’s face, opting instead for just the name or a subtle hint – a handwriting reference, a signature motif, a colour. Meanwhile, Australia literally puts a face on it.  Why?  A few theories. We like brands that feel human. A founder’s face signals a real person, a real story, a real business. It’s approachable, unpretentious and authentic. We trust the battler myth. Australia still celebrates the self-made locals who build something from nothing. Their face on the logo is shorthand for origin, honesty and that familiar “started in a shed somewhere” energy. And we’re sceptical of faceless corporates. A founder’s face is the complete opposite of that. Add to this a smaller market, where many national brands simply didn’t scale fast enough to bother with a polished corporate identity early on. The founder’s personality – and often their literal face – stuck around far longer than it might have elsewhere. Why a face works Faces work because they convey authenticity and trust. They also tap into notions of localism and smallness in a positive sense. While a human face in a logo elsewhere might imply a small-time operation, here it can signal a local legend. People also remember faces far more easily than abstract symbols. According to recent JKR/Ipsos (DBA) brand distinctive asset testing, characters and mascots outperform every other distinctive brand asset – colours, shapes, logos, even taglines. They’re the most memorable assets we have. So when brands lean on founders’ faces – real or made up – what they’re really doing is using a shortcut that already exists. A founder is, in effect, a built-in mascot with a narrative baked in. A good character creates an instant mental shortcut. The rise of ‘fake founders’ Given all this, it’s no surprise that some brands sidestep the messy reality of actual humans by inventing fictional founders – all the charm, none of the risk. Guzman y Gomez is famously named after two people who never existed: A fictional duo created to give a sense of Latin authenticity to what is, proudly, an Australian-born brand. James Squire sits somewhere in the middle. He was a real convict-turned-brewer, but the modern beer brand is built around a mythologised version of him – a charismatic rogue crafted more for storytelling than historical accuracy. Globally, some of the world’s biggest food brands have relied on fictional founders for decades. Betty Crocker was invented in the 1920s to add warmth and trust to General Mills’ baking products. Mr Kipling was also entirely fictional. And Dr Pepper isn’t a doctor – or anyone at all. The name was created simply because it sounded distinctive and authoritative. It turns out you don’t always need a real founder. Just a believable one. Like James, countless brands have created founder myths because they’re powerful brand-building tools. Provenance matters – especially in food and beverage branding. Invented founders never age, never offend, never speed, take drugs, have affairs, or give disastrous interviews. Off with their heads? So should brands like Dan, Jim and Bob lose their heads and head to the logo guillotines? Absolutely not. It would spark a public rebrand outcry. Should brands looking for trust, credibility and provenance reunite their founders’ heads with their logos? Again, absolutely not.  Real or fictional, brands should lean into their founder’s stories, ethos and values, but be aware that in fast-paced sectors, a founder’s story can quickly become historical. But as logos get simpler, more abstract and as AI-generated brands multiply, the simple, old-school human face might just be the last thing that still feels genuinely local and authentic. Maybe that’s why Dan Murphy staring at us from a billboard still works: It reminds us that behind every brand, at some point, there was a person. And sometimes, the simplest way to say trust me is to quite literally put your face to it.  But maybe not literally. Martin Hopkins is a creative director at branding agency Principals. Further reading: The rise of analogue, human‑made campaigns.