The end of shopping

Martin Parr/Magnum Photos

by Walter Kirn, excerpt from New York Times Magazine, December 4, 2005

I learned recently that cellphone companies are working on a miraculous device that will take all the risk out of comparison shopping. This thingamajig will scan a product's bar code, access and search databases on the Internet and tell the user if a similar item can be purchased at any nearby stores for a lower price. Talk about making salesfolk sweat. Armed with such definitive information, consumers will not only have the upper hand over even the craftiest retailers, they'll also have the one and only hand, and profit margins should shrink accordingly. The best price for something, in theory, will be the only price, everywhere and absolutely, and bargain hunting will be a hunt no more but something akin to a point-blank execution.

"I want that TV for $340. Now. And I want you to smile when you ring it up."

Should the "shopping phone" fulfill its promise, deep discounts will become standard and universal, and stores will have to seek an edge in less familiar ways - perhaps by dressing their workers in clingy costumes the way Las Vegas casinos do. That would be one route: pile on the thrills. The other, more likely, more cost-effective route would be to stamp out the thrills entirely and cultivate a dreary bare-bones efficiency that will make today's Wal-Marts seem like Roman palaces and today's Wal-Mart employees look like emperors.

The few employees who remain, that is. In the race to economize spurred by foolproof pricing, stores may come to resemble unmanned warehouses except for a guard or two posted at the door. Select your item, scan it and walk away with it - with the help of a robot if the thing's too big to lift. The infamous cheapskate labor practices that Wal-Mart has been taking such flak for lately may fill people with nostalgia when that time comes. Remember those darling senior citizen "greeters" with their neat little name tags and perky words of welcome? So what if they had lousy health plans? So what if the women earned less than the men? They made the long aisles feel less lonely. They were cute.

Will the high-tech perfection of shopping mean the end of shopping? And what will Americans do with themselves then, with no Sunday-paper circulars to study or holiday sales to stand in endless lines for, plotting their course through the electronics aisle to the stockpile of $99 digital cameras that went for $220 the day before and will go back up tomorrow? Without all that hustle, drama and suspense, why should customers even bother to leave their houses?

Of all the error-prone human activities that digital technology is working to streamline - diagnosing illness, finding love, obtaining driving directions - racing around in search of a good deal may be one of those we miss the most. Despite the cost-controlled monolithic gloom of the Wal-Marts and Costcos of the land, human beings, deep down, are still creatures of the bazaar, with a restless desire to haggle and finagle that cuts across cultures and the centuries. Outflanking the salesmen and beating out other customers is a primal survivalistic drive that links modern Topekans with the ancient Turks. It's a contest we lose as often as we win, but when we do win, it makes us feel alive and gives us something to boast about to friends.