The Guardian’s recent research paper, “Shift happens”, identifies a strong current trend of Brits appreciating the small things in life (a long walk with the dog; an evening making a “fake-away” to eat with friends) and wanting to live in and enjoy the moment, rather than worrying about what tomorrow may bring.

This behaviour, The Guardian reckons, is a response to the permacrisis in which we find ourselves: a natural reaction to extended and wearying anxiety over a pandemic, a cost-of-living crisis, an energy crisis, an environmental crisis and a national infrastructure crisis.

The research suggests that we all feel the need to take a breather, however fleeting, and to focus on the things that we can control (however small) to stave off the sense of being overwhelmed.

So, Guardian readers are clicking on articles that offer them simple ways to find happiness and fulfilment, and they particularly like the options that do not involve spending any money.

Cheryl from Manchester is quoted as saying: “It’s the things that are cheap or free in life that make you happy.” It’s likely the wider British public is feeling much the same.

The question for brands that still need to achieve profitable growth is how to behave in an environment where audiences are re-evaluating what matters to their wellbeing, and challenging the idea that happiness can be branded and purchased?

One obvious route is to associate your brand with light-hearted escapism – and the explosion of all things Barbie-related, in which brands as varied as Aldo and Airbnb have launghed pink-themed offerings (and selling out before the movie even premiered) is a testament to this.

It is clear that fun, frivolity and a hefty dose of nostalgia (for the days when life seemed simpler and sunnier) combine in a cocktail that is strongly appealing right now.

Reviews of this year’s Cannes winners also declare that “Humour is back!”, pointing to an upsurge in beautifully simple, witty campaigns being awarded, and comparing this to the dominance of more emotionally charged and “worthy” entries in recent years.

There does seem to have been a real shift – though whether this is a response to the permacrisis or a reaction against ‘purpose’ is less clear.

Perhaps the two trends are correlated and we should gauge the mood of the industry in much the same way that the length of women’s hemlines traditionally indicated consumer confidence? So the more worried we get, the longer our skirts – and the funnier our ads?

But given the prolonged nature of the pressure their customers are under, brands will need to do more than just offer momentary escape if they want long-term survival: they will need to work harder to prove their worth.

Whether through disruptive innovation, exceptional empathy with their audience or intelligent new approaches to expressing brand purpose, ways must be found to re-engineer the value equation.

In April 2020, MullenLowe was trying to adapt to the first lockdown when our global Lifebuoy Soap client briefed us on relaunching Lifebuoy into the UK, beginning with hand sanitiser.

While both the need and the opportunity to relaunch this brand (created in 1894 with the mission of “Saving lives, by making cleanliness commonplace”) may have been obvious, so too were the hurdles.

Lifebuoy had withdrawn from the UK three decades earlier and had negligible equity. In the intervening years, competitors like Dettol had become dominant and, more recently, everybody from Baylis and Harding to Brewdog had leapt into action to provide the public with hand sanitiser. By the time Lifebuoy launched, supermarkets were awash with the stuff.

To command space on the shelf – let alone in the customer’s mind – required radical differentiation, and so the “Bish, bash, bosh germs!” campaign, with its cheerful animation and catchy song lyrics, was created.

It stood out a mile amid the sombre tones of competitive and government handwashing communication, and spoke in a voice that was confident, practical and, above all, optimistic. The consumer response was overwhelmingly positive.

But Lifebuoy’s decision to be resolutely cheery had nothing to do with escapism or providing light relief. Rather, this approach was the result of the brand’s desire to be of genuine service to the public.

The drive to save lives through better hygiene habits meant the Lifebuoy team not only worked with schools and homeless shelters, but also used its deep understanding of the levers of behaviour change to create communication that did not play back people’s fears but delivered simple hygiene rituals in a way that was highly engaging, hard to miss and easy to remember.

It was the desire to be genuinely useful that engendered genuine affection for Lifebuoy and, in the face of the permacrisis, it’s a strategy more brands need to adopt.