The Gruen Transfer is a theory that contemplates how to manipulate people into purchase through disorientation. It’s the sort of stuff that casinos do (no clocks, no natural light, maze-like table layout, patterned carpet, etc). Shopping malls and supermarkets too – with their aisles, queues, ambient music, scents, lighting, use of colour.

What’s interesting about this is that we all know what they’re trying to do but still we deliver ourselves unto them. Why?

Well, having worshiped at the alter of the Swedish Wood-Lego God lately, I thought I’d share a few thoughts about how they game you because they’re pretty good at it.

1. Scarcity that sucks you in
In Sydney, there is only one Ikea. It’s central, it sits on a bunch of busy freeways and just sucks and sucks… cars in. The reason they can get away with it is their brand – and I’m not talking about their ads. I’m talking about the little things – like a belief system (eg setting the price then getting designers to make ‘good’ stuff for that price), a friendly and in-situ catalogue complete with designer photos and signatures, a that’s-so-big-I-need-to-see-it store, a kids playground, cheap food, and a cafe. They get away with one location (another is coming), because they make everything in that location worth the trip.

2. One escalator in – there’s no escape!
I laugh at this every time I put my foot on the escalator: how can they be so blatant about this? A walled garden – this sort of behaviour (forced rope-in) would make us despise a company like Telstra… but Ikea get away with it. Why? In Sydney, the escalator is next to the kids’ playground. I think in what is probably accidental, the cues of ‘play’ make us feel like we’re entering a furniture wonderland and to just follow the crowds. Discovery beckons!

3. Start in the lounge room
After you get up the escalator, you’re thrown into the soul of a home – the loungeroom. Why? Is it because this is what most of us are there to buy? Doubt it. Is it because that’s what they want to sell us? Possibly. Or is it because they really just want us to feel at home – utterly surrendered?

4. Activity I ought to be doing, right?
It’s great how Ikea arms us with big, yellow (optimistic colour, isn’t it, semiotics specialists?) bags and measuring tapes. With the bags we feel we ought to buy something; seeing other people’s filled bags makes us… want to buy something. And then there’s the playful activity of measuring stuff, scribbling measurements and orders on paper. This could be me, but I feel if I don’t measure at least one thing before I leave I’ve failed Ikea horribly. The pressure!

5. A flow that blocks then opens
Next time you go to Ikea, think about the flow of the layout. Big stuff then lots of little stuff, then big stuff you need to measure, then little stuff, then a break… more of the same, then a tonne of little, impulse-baiting objects winking at you like a puppy in a petshop in the penultimate pre-panic area. There’s a definite rhythm to the place and plenty of areas to lose yourself in – and to dream the Ikea dream.

6. Social zones to build affinity
Back 20 years, David Jones had a monopoly on this in Sydney. Ask your grandparents. A trip to town meant a trip to the David Jones cafe. Other than providing Ikea another revenue stream, the cafe – placed at the half-way point of your escapade – does a few smart things. It reinforces the brand (price, quality, social). It turns Ikea into a community zone – not just a shop. It provides a timeout so we can energise before we continue. It provides time to examine the catalogue ‘in case there’s anything we don’t want to miss.’  And, surely, the noise and smells add to that home feeling Ikea is trying to spark.

7. Crowds make you act funny
Seeing people do stuff makes us act in certain herd-like ways (read about Information Cascades). Also, and I’ll try to dig the article up, I’ve read that being in crowds changes us physiologically – something to do with less oxygen, less blood to the brain, we act more simply. At least at Ikea that doesn’t usually result in people clubbing eachother with furniture.

8. The Great Hall of Panic
So it’s taken you an hour to get to this point. Can you really leave empty-handed? After all that effort? After the arguments at home, in the car – ‘Did we get the measurements, right? Are you sure?’, ‘I said black would make the room look small – I’d prefer white.’ Are you daring enough to now not buy something? You’re a big person if you honestly answer, ‘Yes.’

Let’s face it, buying furniture can be a bit stressful and after the pressure cooker of the Ikea hour of discovery (we all turn a bit feral in there, oblivious to the measuring needs of others), they give us big trolleys (well, they make 20 of us wait for them) and then unleash us into the Great Hall of Panic. Even if we weren’t really sure what we wanted to buy, we rush to find the shortlist to see if they have stock. If stock’s low, we get even more panicked. We think, ‘I don’t want to have to go through this again!’ We see competitor lemmings hovering over our boxes. And we do what we do: we buy.

The Gruen Transfer wins.

How Ikea get away with it
Having swum in a pool of Ikea balls 25 years ago, bought and quickly broken a poorly made Ikea desk 15 years ago, I can say that Ikea have definitely found their stride. They’ve found a positioning in the market that will take an amazing new idea to compete with: good enough quality for a price that feels fair… and an experience that does feel entertaining when it’s not bordering on anarchic.

In addition, you know you can get something for your needs at Ikea if pressed and they situate themselves intelligently in growing areas with easy access. Their promise of helping me organise my life makes me feel so purposeful and hopeful. They explain everything – why the furniture is flat packed (to save us money), how to find your way around the building, how to buy, their beliefs are near the toilet (from memory). And, unlike so many ivory-tower companies, they put a face to their brand – YES, people react to people.

Smart thinking, Ikea.

Are there any other tactics you feel Ikea employs to disorient us into purchase?

See what people are saying about Ikea on Twitter.
Photos courtesy of J Pellgen, K Haruna.

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