I must be on the wrong side of the product life cycle. When I like something, the manufacturer eliminates it.
When I find a certain model of a piece of equipment that is perfect for me, it goes away. Going into a store, I have to purchase a new model of something, a different style or totally different version because the previous one no longer exists. And, of course, you don’t get all the qualities that made you happy with the one you were using in the past. This happens far too frequently than chance would seem to dictate.
It’s almost as if we are being forced to let go of our preferences; there is no choice. Rather than continuing to churn out the tried and true, the current theory says to change it up. That’s not always the way to go.
Take candy, for example. If you like something, you want to keep eating it. That’s the nature of candy.
Chocolate has been around for a long time. Adding things to it, like peanuts, caramel or coconut are inventions of the modern economy that occurred the past 100 years or so, and fueled our growing addiction to candy bars that include an expanded list of ingredients.
One became a favorite of mine – the Mint Oreo Hershey Bar. It hung around for a couple of years, maybe three, then it was gone. Poof. I fell in love with it. I purchased it FREQUENTLY. Then it was no longer available on the supermarket shelves.
I went into a brief depression, wondering how such a tasty, face-stuffingly good piece of candy could be eliminated by the manufacturer (ultimately, it was no longer to be found, so it was not even being made). It is one more example of something you like or find extremely useful being thrown on the scrap heap.
Living in Nebraska , I found a pair of hiking boots that fit my feet like they were hand-made. They were so superior that I saw another pair in a local store, bought them, and saved them in our clothes closet for over a year. When the old pair was worn out, I had some newbies ready to go. Adidas preferred upgrading to a new style and leaving consumers hanging.
Planned obsolescence is part of the grand plan. We could argue humans have planned obsolescence built into us, so we shouldn’t be surprised when phenomenal candy bars disappear or form fitting hiking boots no longer show up in the sporting goods store. We all deteriorate at some point.
Televisions, cell phones, cars, bicycles, golf clubs, you name it, you’ll hold onto them if you like how they perform. Sometimes the new gadget makes sense and you embrace it, like when smart phones overtook your basic cell phone or when HD TV took over analog. You want that improved product.
When a product formula is successful , it should stay the way it is and keep people happy/satisfied. For consumers, the change wouldn’t make any sense. We don’t seem to drive that decision.
I inhale Mini M&M’s, personally keeping the Mars company in business. Recently, my wife informed me that my consumption was not enough. I tried upping my purchases, but failed, as it disappeared from the supermarket shelves.
It seemed like one more personal failure until one day, combing the shelves more closely, it re-emerged miraculously on a different shelf. They probably just moved it because it was too close to the floor and little kids were opening the bags.
It couldn’t have been because it was selling so well and needed a more prominent location, could it?
When I find a certain model of a piece of equipment that is perfect for me, it goes away. Going into a store, I have to purchase a new model of something, a different style or totally different version because the previous one no longer exists. And, of course, you don’t get all the qualities that made you happy with the one you were using in the past. This happens far too frequently than chance would seem to dictate.
It’s almost as if we are being forced to let go of our preferences; there is no choice. Rather than continuing to churn out the tried and true, the current theory says to change it up. That’s not always the way to go.
Take candy, for example. If you like something, you want to keep eating it. That’s the nature of candy.
Chocolate has been around for a long time. Adding things to it, like peanuts, caramel or coconut are inventions of the modern economy that occurred the past 100 years or so, and fueled our growing addiction to candy bars that include an expanded list of ingredients.
One became a favorite of mine – the Mint Oreo Hershey Bar. It hung around for a couple of years, maybe three, then it was gone. Poof. I fell in love with it. I purchased it FREQUENTLY. Then it was no longer available on the supermarket shelves.
I went into a brief depression, wondering how such a tasty, face-stuffingly good piece of candy could be eliminated by the manufacturer (ultimately, it was no longer to be found, so it was not even being made). It is one more example of something you like or find extremely useful being thrown on the scrap heap.
Living in Nebraska , I found a pair of hiking boots that fit my feet like they were hand-made. They were so superior that I saw another pair in a local store, bought them, and saved them in our clothes closet for over a year. When the old pair was worn out, I had some newbies ready to go. Adidas preferred upgrading to a new style and leaving consumers hanging.
Planned obsolescence is part of the grand plan. We could argue humans have planned obsolescence built into us, so we shouldn’t be surprised when phenomenal candy bars disappear or form fitting hiking boots no longer show up in the sporting goods store. We all deteriorate at some point.
Televisions, cell phones, cars, bicycles, golf clubs, you name it, you’ll hold onto them if you like how they perform. Sometimes the new gadget makes sense and you embrace it, like when smart phones overtook your basic cell phone or when HD TV took over analog. You want that improved product.
When a product formula is successful , it should stay the way it is and keep people happy/satisfied. For consumers, the change wouldn’t make any sense. We don’t seem to drive that decision.
I inhale Mini M&M’s, personally keeping the Mars company in business. Recently, my wife informed me that my consumption was not enough. I tried upping my purchases, but failed, as it disappeared from the supermarket shelves.
It seemed like one more personal failure until one day, combing the shelves more closely, it re-emerged miraculously on a different shelf. They probably just moved it because it was too close to the floor and little kids were opening the bags.
It couldn’t have been because it was selling so well and needed a more prominent location, could it?
