7 Campaign Gimmicks Used by Presidential Candidates

The 1840 presidential election was the first “modern” election, replete with catchy campaign slogans, rousing campaign songs and a proliferation of candidate-themed novelty items.

The candidates in 1840 were incumbent Democrat Martin Van Buren versus William Henry Harrison of the new Whig party. The Democrats made a fateful error when they tried to paint Harrison as a rustic simpleton who drank hard cider and lived in a log cabin. In a stroke of image-making genius, the Whigs turned the intended insult into a major selling point for Harrison.

Harrison became the “hard cider and log cabin” candidate—a man of the people—while the Whigs successfully cast Van Buren as “Van Ruin,” a rich, out-of-touch aristocrat. In reality, Harrison was the wealthy son of an established Virginia family, while Van Buren grew up poor. But none of that mattered.

“It’s a perfect example of having campaign slogans and images attached to candidates that, in this case, didn’t really match at all,” says Claire Jerry, a curator of political history at the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History. The museum has amassed a large collection of political memorabilia, including a model log cabin from 1840 that was carried around on a pole during pro-Harrison parades.

The most-memorable campaign slogan from 1840 was “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too!” a reference to Harrison as the hero of the Battle of Tippecanoe and his running mate John Tyler. The slogan was turned into a popular campaign song that poked fun at the diminutive Van Buren as “little Van, the used-up man.”

“Music has always been a popular part of campaigns and politics generally,” says Jerry. “At a time when politics really was entertainment—it was one of our earliest spectator and participatory sports—you’d get together with your friends and have these big meetings. And since you didn’t really have media like we do today, people sang together more across the board for various kinds of events.”

In the 19th century, one of the most visible places to plaster a campaign ad was on a cigar box. The rituals of smoking and tobacco use were a big part of daily life in 19th-century America, which is reflected in the campaign memorabilia of the time.

Bejamin Harrison’s campaign issued a log cabin-shaped snuff box, Henry Clay’s issued a pipe featuring his head and William Howard Taft’s campaign featured a massive, nine-inch cigar emblazoned with his face. Taft was a fan of campaign-themed cigars, handing them out as early as the 1890s when he was a Federal judge in Ohio.

When Americans traded in cigars for cigarettes in the 20th century, tobacco companies issued special election-year packs for each candidate. Tobacco stores used to sell the competing packs side by side and track sales as a kind of informal “straw poll.”

“When Eisenhower ran against Stevenson in the 1950s, stores put out displays with the two types of cigarettes and said, ‘Based on sales, we project that Ike’s going to win,’” says Jerry.

Despite the well-documented health effects of smoking, campaign-themed cigarettes were still sold and distributed nationally as recently as the 1988 contest between George H.W. Bush and Michael Dukakis.

Campaign buttons are still one of the most popular and mass-produced forms of campaign novelties. But have you ever wondered why they’re called “buttons” and not “pins.”

The answer goes all the way back to George Washington. Supporters of America’s first president showed their loyalty by sewing commemorative brass buttons into their jackets and overcoats.

“The original campaign buttons were actual buttons made out of metal,” says Jerry. “That was the style for a while. We kept using the word ‘button’ even after the development of the pin-back versions.”

The first modern campaign buttons came out in 1896 and were made from a new material called celluloid, the first chemically produced plastic. Improvements in technology have always driven political campaigns, and the 1896 election saw an explosion of more than 2,000 varieties of campaign knick-knacks, including a nifty interactive campaign button that let voters choose the winner.

In 1996, the Kraft corporation produced special boxes of its popular “mac & cheese” to hand out at that year’s Republican and Democratic national conventions. The gimmick was that the small pieces of pasta were fashioned into donkeys or elephants instead of elbows.

But that was far from the first time that an American manufacturer sought to market their products to voters in both parties. As mentioned before, cigar and cigarette companies didn’t care about political affiliations as long as they sold more smokes. And even small-scale manufacturers got in on the act, like the 19th-century metalworkers who sold stylish belt buckles for both candidates in 1888.

Among the strangest product tie-ins were soap babies. These commemorative soaps were among a proliferation of tchotchkes that came out during the 1896 election. That year’s race was between Republican William McKinley and Democrat William Jennings Bryan, and the major campaign issue was whether to ditch the gold standard for Bryan’s alternative economic plan called “free silver.”

In 1896, soap companies like Jergens wanted to show off new manufacturing technology that allowed them to make soap in any shape imaginable, not just bars. Bizarrely, someone decided that tiny soap babies was the way to go.

“They came in these boxes with little tags on them, saying, ‘My dad’s for free silver!’ or ‘My dad’s for the gold standard!’” says Jerry. “Nothing says economic policy like a four-inch naked baby made out of soap.”

Political bumper stickers are a mainstay of modern presidential campaigns, but versions of political bumper stickers have been around almost as long as there have been bumpers. Back in the 1920s and 1930s, early automobile owners would advertise their political loyalties by attaching metal signs to their license plates and bumpers.

The very first license plate attachments appeared in 1924, like this 12-inch attachment for third-party candidate Robert “Fighting Bob” La Follete. Supporters of FDR were so committed to their candidate that they drilled holes in their bumpers to permanently attach a metal sign screaming “ROOSEVELT.”

The first modern bumper stickers were sold after WWII thanks to wartime improvements in plastics, adhesives and highly visible dayglow colors. Although anyone who’s stuck a political bumper sticker on a vehicle knows they’re almost as hard to remove as a bolted-on metal plate.

Children can’t vote, but that hasn’t stopped political campaigns from appealing to the “child” in every voter with candidate-themed toys and games.

Grover Cleveland’s 1888 re-election campaign released a specialized deck of cards. Cleveland was the first president to get married in office, and his young and beautiful wife Frances was a 19th-century celebrity. The Cleveland campaign capitalized on America’s fascination with the first lady by printing a deck of playing cards with Frances as the four queens, Cleveland as the kings and an assortment of cabinet secretaries as the aces and jacks.

For the 1896 election, an enterprising toy company released the “Presidential Muddle,” a sliding peg game in which the winner was selected by the results of the electoral college. Advertised in The American Stationer, the manufacturers may have oversold the muddle’s entertainment value:

"All the world and his wife are interested in The Presidential Muddle. We know of nothing that life has to offer which is so entertaining, so satisfying as this puzzle. It is a happiness which postpones all other amusements, and makes theatres, concert halls and ballrooms cheap enjoyment.”

For the 1960 election, Richard Nixon’s campaign distributed its own version of a popular children’s toy called a clicker or “cricket.” The small, handheld toys made a sharp clicking sound that was equal parts exciting and annoying. The Nixon campaign even came up with a catchy slogan and song to go with the toy, called “Click with Dick.”

Today, political candidates and their donor networks spend billions of dollars on TV and online advertising. But back in the early days of TV, not every candidate understood the power of this medium to get out the vote.

The 1952 contest between Dwight D. Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson was the first election to feature TV ads. Fewer than 200,000 American households owned a TV during the 1948 election, but by 1952 there were tens of millions of TV sets nationwide.

Stevenson was wary of the new medium. He was particularly concerned about the ways that political messaging could devolve into outright “propaganda.” Instead of airing 60-second ads, Stevenson’s campaign took a more substantive approach, broadcasting 30-minute “information sessions” where the candidate soberly explained his policy positions to voters. Because the Stevenson campaign didn’t want to pay a lot for these spots, they aired late at night when viewership was low.

Eisenhower also took some convincing. At first, the conservative-minded general pushed back against campaign strategists who wanted to team with Madison Avenue admen and Hollywood producers. But Ike eventually embraced his role as America’s first “TV president.” He rode the wave of the wildly successful “I Like Ike” campaign to a cascade of TV ads and live appearances.

By enlisting Hollywood pros, the Eisenhower campaign produced gems like an animated TV ad made with the help of Disney artists (above), while Steveson’s campaign settled for a patriotic song that would have felt at home in a 19th-century campaign “songster.”

Eisenhower won in a landslide and future presidential candidates learned not to underestimate the power of TV.