Last fall, I went to a nearby Target for laundry detergent and found the bottles locked in a glass case like prized jewels. I was confused: Was there another supply chain snafu? Or was it a safety concern, like when Sudafed was moved behind the pharmacy counter? Were people getting high on the fumes of liquid Tide?
After waiting nearly ten minutes, an employee liberated the cleaning product, explaining that the inconvenience was due to increased shoplifting. I wondered how anyone could fit gallon-size containers in their purses or down their pants, but I didn’t dwell on it. Until a visit a few months later — when glass cases had sprouted on other aisles. Now toothpaste and Tylenol were also being held captive.
I don’t want to make light of the increased theft that many businesses are facing, which I’ll be writing about in a future column. However, I would expect the response from a $65 billion corporation to be increased security guards and staffing. Neither of which seem to be taking place. In a half dozen investigative visits to three local Target stores this past week, I rarely saw security guards. I saw lots of locked glass cabinets.
It seems that Target’s solution for their security problem is to make it their customers’ problem instead. Which makes us seem less like their customers than their patsys.
I reached out to Target with questions, and though I didn’t receive the courtesy of a response, I should make it clear that Target isn’t alone in this anti-customer behavior. I’ve seen locked cabinets at CVS, Rite-Aid and Walgreens. And when it comes to punishing customers for their patronage, the airline industry is way ahead of chain stores. But airlines have a near monopoly over long-distance travel in this country. Retail stores aren’t so lucky.
Last month, I ran out of detergent and absentmindedly headed over to Target again. But this time when I found myself waiting for an overburdened employee, I pulled out my phone and bought a bottle online from Amazon instead. Numerous friends have told me that the locked merchandise has motivated them to also switch more purchases to Amazon. The problem is that if everyone does the same, Target won’t be around very long.
Now I know that shopping at a brick-and-mortar store is a little old-fashioned in these days of digital disruption. Prices are often better online, and customer service at the understaffed stores can be nonexistent. (The irony is that the lack of staff results in harried employees flinging open locked cases before hurrying to the next waiting customer, defeating any supposed security benefit.)
But sometimes it’s more satisfying to shop in person. Maybe I want to feel the weight of a towel or smell the scent of a shampoo. Or maybe I want to continue to have the option to do so in the future and don’t want Amazon to be the only retail option in the country.
The question is whether Amazon’s competitors are equally committed to their own survival. Target’s sales and foot traffic were down this past year, though their profits soared thanks to increased prices. The C-Suite gurus seem to think they can succeed at the expense of their customers, forgetting a central tenet of capitalism, which is that companies increase in value when they create value for their customers.
We should feel appreciated by the places we spend our money. It would be even nicer to be rewarded. At the very least, there shouldn’t be a bullseye on our back.
Devan Sipher
