Once again I have survived that pinnacle of consumer capitalism called Christmas that pervades the industrialised world today. I managed to avoid both the worst excesses of 'Black Friday', Christmas shopping frenzy and steered well clear of the post-Christmas sales. The madness of things, of designer labels that seek to gratify but end up without meaning and worthless. Glimpses of Lord Sugar's 'The Apprentice', just finished, also reinforces the pervasiveness of consumerism in which we live - whereby contestants seek to outdo each other in who can be more savvy, more wiley and more persuasive in inventing new products and services and seeking to sell as much of the goods or services as possible to those who do not need it or really want it, for their own personal gain.
It's perhaps too easy to reject goods in a land of plenty. And it's not to be dismissed lightly. I benefit too from the availability of smartphones, laptops and supermarket conveniences whose existence both enriches my life (connectivity and knowledge) and makes my life simpler and more convenient (access to goods in a supermarket). That is probably the dilemma for those of us who do not want to be defined first and foremost as consumers but make use of the conveniences offered to us.
While supermarkets in London seek to maximise profits and cater for consumer demand by stocking chapati flour, ghee, basmati rice and spices, modern food retailing has struggled to make any headway in India. Unlike cities in China, Thailand or Turkey where large, clean and modern supermarkets are now ubiquitous, India remains resistant.
In March 2014, Tescos signed an agreement with Trent Limited, part of the Tata group in a 50:50 joint venture with Trent Hypermarket Limited, operating under the 'Star Bazaar' banner. They are currently very very small fish in the potential market – with only 11 stores across the country. India's own supermarkets only account for about 2% of food and grocery sales and struggle to make a profit. With so much potential to modernise distribution, reduce food waste and spoilage and cut out multiple middlemen that characterises today's distribution in India, it would seem there was plenty of room for improvement[1].
But it seems that India's consumers are resistant to supermarkets, remaining loyal to local traders for frequent purchases of perishable goods, even among the more affluent. Large scale out of town supermarkets stocking a huge range of products have also not been that popular, especially if other infrastructure such as good roads make access difficult if potholed and poorly maintained[2].
It's not as if other markets in India cannot be as competitive or ruthless as any in the world – for example with mobile phones, low-cost airlines or hotels. You can find bottled water or Coca-Cola in almost any village in India, so the distribution networks are also there. There seems to be something particularly resistant to modernisation and liberalisation in food and grocery retailing.
Could supermarkets empower women? For in India, while a patriarchal society still sees women as mainly domestic labour in the home, spending hours cooking for the family, there may be no impetus among male decision makers and entrepreneurs to push for change. Wealthy middle class women will have servants to cook and do the housework. Perhaps in the West, convenience and one-stop shopping in supermarkets came of age when women started to seriously compete in the job market, without the benefit of domestic help, leaving little time left for domestic chores.
I am now torn. I know that a solid food retail chain could bring huge improvements to the supply and distribution of basic foodstuffs in India, hopefully cutting down on food waste as it brings more efficiency to the distribution. It could also mean one further step away from any values not based on buying and selling goods, on the ever expanding wants and desires needed to satisfy that craving that ultimately is meaningless. Can India bring better core values, more meaning, more connection to capitalism? Or will it, too, end up defining a person's worth by what goods they can afford to buy?
[1] See 'The journey of an Indian onion' - The Economist 14/12/2013
[2] See 'Grocery retailing in India' - The Economist 18/10/2014
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