FUTURE SHOCK REVISITED

Grrrrrr …

That’s our reaction when well-intentioned marketing futurists start thinking broadly, dis-remembering some communications 101 principles.

The latest example:  The 2025 grocery store, debuting at Food Marketing Institute 2014 (the association for nearly 40,000 U.S. food retailers), sponsored by some big-name powerhouses. 

In ten years, or so the presentation goes, we’ll experience frictionless checkout (read:  a ready-to-charge-it app); micropersonalization, or the customization of products based on our purchase history; and stores that physically transform, depending on the seasons, the times of day, the weather, even traffic patterns.

All cool and not unexpected.  Many of us already swipe our smartphones at Starbucks and other foodie outlets.  Get mailings from fave stores that feature products we just bought.  And, no sleight of hand:  Watch as movable partitions and other ingenuities help merchandise the goods.

So what frosted us?  The mention of lifestyle advisors, store employees who’ll now help people shop (they’re moving on from the check-out aisle).  Why?  Because that involves a new talent profile, a huge investment in learning and development, and a positioning that – except maybe for Whole Foods and occasional store nutritionists – just doesn’t register with us.  At least right now.

Consider your most recent interaction with a supermarket clerk.  Did you ask where a certain product is shelved?  [And how many people did it take to get the answer?]  Inquire about a special order – only to wait for weeks until someone picks up the phone and says, “it’s here.”  Request a quickie course on cooking, say, a Copper River salmon versus the regular kind?  How long will it take for our helpers to respond to these shopper queries, let alone the more proactive kind?

No cynicism, just common sense:  Hey, is this a job for newly retired boomers?

FREEDOM OF CHOICE? NOT SO MUCH

Food shopping, to us, is always a plus and minus activity.

The minus part:  It’s gotta get done, usually during the time (i.e., on weekends) everyone goes supermarketing.

On the plus side, meandering down grocery aisles satisfies our need for visual stimulation.  There are always new products to pick up, packaging that grabs our eyes, and new claims to read and ponder. 

That’s where we invariably get lost.  Because with the amazing amount of products in store, it’s hard to choose, for instance, among 350-something types of toothpastes.  [And that number has been reduced by nearly 20 percent from the previous year, according to market research firm Spire LLC.]  We sigh and then pick the same-old same-old. 

Too many choices also afflict many of us who work in communications and design.  In our heads, there’s the tug between the new media and the tried and true, the weighing of short versus long content, the options provided by brand palettes, differences in tone and voice, use of metrics, just to mention a few.

When actual content is factored in, the number of “I don’t knows” expands exponentially.

So does bewilderment.  

How many retirement savings or health care plans will need to be understood – before employees pick their benefits?  Do senior managers truly care about three or four new identity alternatives?  Will decision makers be swayed or confused by all the options that might help realize more revenues, save costs, attract new customers?

Today, many marketers are beginning to recognize the wisdom of the fewer, the better.   Whether it’s foodstuffs or news channels, car models or restaurants, the consumer (and his/her wallet) decides.  Enough, after all, can be too much. 

As for us?  We just might vote for Hobson’s choice.