I Want What I Think You Want

When I rose from my bed an hour later than usual last Friday morning, I thought about all the shoppers who engaged in "Black Friday" activities while I sat in my fuzzy fleece robe, sipped hot coffee and watched the sunrise. What got them up and going at such an early hour, or perhaps led them to curtail their Thanksgiving activities the evening before? Was it only the lure of not-to-be-missed sale items, or was there something more? What is it about how we think that makes us sacrifice for a sale? Bully our way to the front of the line for a bargain? Forgo free time for long lines of pushy shoppers? And then I remembered our daughter's fifth birthday.

It was late June and I was lying in bed, "sick as a dog," wondering how I was going to purchase the Cabbage Patch doll our five-year-old daughter wanted for her birthday, as well as pull off her party the following day. If you weren't alive in 1982 or 1983 or were under the age of five, you probably don't recall what a sensation these dolls were. Perhaps it was a backlash against Barbies or dolls that walked, talked and wet their pants, but suddenly Cabbage Patch dolls with chubby faces and soft cloth bodies that didn't do anything were on every little girl's list. We were unable to secure one of the prized dolls for Christmas, but by the time our daughter's birthday rolled around in June, we thought we might be able to manage the inflated expense, provided we could locate one. Finally, just days before her birthday we tracked one down in a store about 40 miles from the small town where we lived in southern Illinois. My Main Man, like a hunter in pursuit of game that would ensure his family's survival, drove to Alton, Illinois in pursuit of the prize. Forty dollars and 80 miles later we had our doll.

Black Friday and Cyber Monday are now but a dim reflection in the rear view mirror of 2013, but there's much to learn about the way retailers use these two days to capitalize on a phenomena known as the "scarcity principle." This principle is rooted in both economic and social psychology research and refers to the way market conditions are impacted if people believe something might be in scarce supply. That's pretty much the way it was with Cabbage Patch dolls and we were certainly impacted. Because they were scarce, because not everyone could have one, our daughter wanted one more than ever.

In Contagious: Why Things Catch On, Jonah Berger, PhD notes that "Scarcity and exclusivity help products catch on by making them seem more desirable. If something is difficult to obtain, people assume that it must be worth the effort" (p. 54). Think about it for a moment, why do you think Disney takes its old animated features like Cinderella and Snow White off the shelf periodically and offers them to the public for a limited time only. It's because it increases their desirability. 

 

Do you recall when you had to have special status of some sort to shop at Sam's Club? Even now you have to have a "membership" and your status is checked at the door. Why's that? Because it actually increases the likelihood more people will want to be members. Not only that, but if something appears to be in short supply and we are "lucky" enough to secure it, we tell others much more often than we would have had it been easily obtained.

It's a funny thing about the way our brain works. If we think something is in scare supply, we want it more. It matters little if that item or experience is worth the sacrifice we might have to make for it financially or otherwise. If it's within our power to obtain it, we have a strong tendency to assume it will be worth the effort or expense.

Prohibition is perhaps one of the best examples of the scarcity principle in action. In his latest book, One Summer: America, 1927, Bill Bryson chronicles this era as one of the worst experiments in American history.

[Prohibition] was easily the most extreme, ill-judged, costly, and ignored experiment in social engineering ever conducted by an otherwise rational nation. At a stroke it shut down the fifth-largest industry in America. it took some $2 billion a year out of the hands of legitimate interests and put it in the hands of murderous thugs. It made criminals of honest people and actually led to an increase in the amount of drinking in the country (p.160-161).

Something designed to limit the consumption of alcohol actually increased it. Hmm. . . it got me to thinking. Retailers who decided to open on Thanksgiving this year may want to rethink that strategy for next year. It seems like there's significant evidence to suggest the reverse may prove more lucrative--limit hours and availability and people may want it more. From what I hear, Black Friday profits were down considerably this year from last. Scarcity, limited quantities, insufficient supply--all these may actually increase desire. Then again, if we think those limited quantities may be sold out by 4 a.m., we're likely to keep pushing the envelope on how early we'll rise to participate in the hunt.

Still pondering the mysteries of our brain,

Dr. Jennifer Baker